The Love That Was

The love that was, where does it go?
Why does it slip away?
She wonders, as the autumn slow
Comes drifting in with orange glow,
To keep her hopes at bay,
To keep her hopes at bay.

The love that was, why does it rage
And storm to find no port?
Just scribbled hearts upon a page,
The price of pain, the lover’s wage,
And dreams cut far too short,
And dreams cut far too short.

The love that was, why does it end?
Why should such sorrow be?
But none can ever comprehend
The ways of life and loss of friend
Or love, that endless sea —
Or love, that endless
Sea

Nightscape

Some people say that where they are
Is where they’re meant to be;
For years, I never understood –
Those comments puzzled me

Sometimes, you’re down and desperate,
As I was, long ago:
I saw no reason at the time
Why it needs must be so

For almost thirty years ago
I tried to end my life;
I never would have known my kids
My grandchildren, my wife –

I never would have typed these words
That you are reading now;
I would have been a nobody,
A nothing. A no how —

I couldn’t find a reason,
Couldn’t generate a spark
To see me through the nightscape;
Through the hopeless, whirling dark

But somehow, day led on to day;
And I regained my voice.
Then I decided living
Was my only living choice

I do not know where you might be,
How your life’s filled with pain;
I do not know the grief you’ve felt,
And that, I will not feign —

But this I tell you, reading friend:
There is, most times, a light:
So you can climb the hill ahead,
And fear
No more
The night
 


 

(“Nightscape” – 7-1-2015)

Perceive, remember, and descry…

Perceive, remember, and descry
The truth among the many weeds
That hide away from softer eye
To where the heart’s true river leads –
  For love’s a day,
  A year, a land,
  And hope is ever
  Near at hand.

Observer, discover, and inspect
The reasons why the night still aches:
And in the quiet times, reflect,
That love may bend, but never breaks –
  For where we be
  The echoes fall,
  And hope is ever
  Standing with
  Us all

Hole (An Autocorrect Poem)

Your presence gives me hole —
As though a week was lifted from my shoulder —
I kosher it’s just a trope,
The kind we entertain as we get okra —

You wear it like a diary
That sparkles in the sketch,
Inline to you for everything
And you donut ask why —

Your live, it gives me hope:
It’s like the kiss that signature Spring
The hole you place

In everything

Oh, Love —

Oh, love —
Let every touch be love,
And may the very light that brushes eyes
Call out your name —

Oh, love —
I’ve felt you in the dark,
The hope that whispers comfort when
The night is filled with shame.

The emblem, and the meaningless,
The symptom, and the curse,
The absent, and the manifest,
The chapter, and the verse —

Oh, love —
I want to know your heart,
And feel you pulsing there,
Beneath my skin —

Oh, love —
There is no other way:
For all of us must end where we
Begin

First Great Hope

The lake was pure
As innocence,
The sky was deep
As truth,

Their minds were full
Of everything
That can be thought
By youth.

The lake’s now fillled with
Powerboats,
The sky’s a fearsome
Token,

But they’ve not lost that
First great hope,
It’s just more rarely
Spoken