The Hopes of Many

The hopes of many dwell in shade
And shadows, by forgotten ways;
The hopes of many bills unpaid
For clemency and judgment stays

The hopes of many, beautiful,
In towns and cities, dutiful,
Where love, and death, and tears aren’t rare,
And great folk neither see, nor care

 


 

Photo / picture credit : ID 23845726 © Ankdesign | Dreamstime

Pigeon Point

We sang until our voices broke,
Then rode and drank and laughed some more;
A while then, ere someone spoke,
The distant lighthouse on the shore –

The memory is fresh as paint
Of friendship shared without constraint,
And men who hadn’t lost their joy
Or what it meant to be a boy

Heartbroken

The porpoise may become a shark,
If we don’t have our species right;
Because she loved him in the dark,
She thought she knew him in the light

She thought she knew; she felt so strong –
But love gone left is simply, wrong,
And hollow is the memory
That now is tinged with treachery


© Katarzyna Bialasiewicz | Dreamstime.com – Heartbroken woman

Summer Breaks

The summer breaks, and skies come down,
It’s more than we can understand,
No safety anywhere in town
As darkness falls across the land

Let ev’ry heart that is awake
Take heed: the summer’s born to break –
As we are, when the feelings come
That leave us overwhelmed
And numb

to float and fly

to float and fly, to soar and sing:
this is a part of human joy —
to start with feet but then, take wing –
a must for every girl or boy —

lest we forget, mid years wide-flung:
life isn’t easy for the young,
they want to reach, to touch the sky —
feel what it is, to float
and fly

The Ripping Out

The sound of only stillness birds

The grass that’s manicured and clipped

The emptiness that knows no words

The should-have-been’s that all get skipped

 

There is a knowledge only they

Who’ve felt the ripping out can say:

Though time stretch long, and legs go far,

Forever loves

Forever

Are

Amid the Winter Stars

He walks amid the winter stars,
His feet are clad with snow and ice;
Away from critics, kings, and cars
Is somewhere he calls paradise

The solitude is like a salve,
There’s joy in all he’s come to have;
He stretches – though he’s still the scars –
And walks amid the winter stars