Alone, left out, abandoned, afraid

Reaching out for a hand to hold

Seeking the warmth of a smile, a nod,

Never finding the open door.

Windows locked, curtains drawn

A life shut down. A misery born

Of wasted dreams, useless schemes,

Anything to get inside where others laugh
And no one cries.

But doors are blocked for those like me

Those who drown in endless seas.

I hate spiders and they hate me

They live inside my room you see

And when I scrunch down in my bed

I listen close with hopeless dread, as

My light goes out, and I hear them creep.

The scritching and scratching of hairy feet,

And up I jump, the light comes on,

But they've hidden well, I see not one.

I know they're there, just out of sight.

They fill me with dread and sleepless fright.

So now I sit with broom in hand,

And prepare to make my final stand.

I wait and watch, my vigil begins,

Knowing in dark they creep again.

I do this nightly because, you see,

I hate spiders, and they hate me.

For my Mother

She sits and rocks and reads her book,
A book she's read so many times,
A book of love and kisses sweet
Just an hour she calls her own.

What memories, visions, thoughts she has
As her lips curl with the faintest smile?
Her head falls back against the chair
For just a bit her large eyes close
In a face worn with the trials of life.

Do visions dance within her mind?
Of things that were,
Of all she wished,
Does she regret the choices made
When the man came to her father's door
Bearing gifts of hand and heart?

She opens her eyes and sees her book,
Open still upon her lap.
As dime-store glasses slip down her nose,
She smiles her smile, and finds her place
In this treasured book,
Her book of dreams.

Sometimes I feel I am not there
And those I'm with are not aware
Of how much I do not care
If they notice where
My mind has taken me.
Those around me fade away,
And memories I hide find
There way into my mind
How I wish I could leave it all behind.
Like ghosts they haunt me
The the things I've done
The wrongs I claim, the things undone.
I wonder at times if my presence fades
I become transparent, an image made
Of ice or glass, invisible, my true self fading
Into the guilt and shame I feel,
Wondering if I am truly real.

Reaching for a hand to hold,

I shiver, feeling lost and cold.

Loneliness comes creeping in

And sadness settles on my skin.

I brush it off, like desert sand,

As if a storm reared up the land.

Waiting here in muted light

While motes of dust spin soft and bright,

Yet cling to cobwebs, in corners dark

As shadows grow inside my heart.

Still I sit with out-stretched hand

In bitter cold I wait, I stand

And know that soon the chill will lift,

A hand will come, and darkness shift

Away, as sunlight fills my life.

It lifts me gently, up, so high,

Where angels clasp me, hold me near.

And give such warmth, I disappear.

He stands alone with hat in hand,

He scans across the wasted land.

He glances skyward, he knows in vain

Hoping for a glimpse of rain.

His horse needs water, he won't survive.

In his last attempt to keep him alive,

The few drops left in a rusty canteen

He gives his horse, as if in dream.

He knows his time grows short at last,

He thinks of home, and green green grass.

Off comes the saddle, worn and old

He feels the weight lift from his soul.

He recalls the times his life, the weight,

His horse has carried with steady gait.

The weary horse stumbles, falls,

His eyes so dry, no tears at all.

He remembers well the trails they made.

The gifts of trees, and streams and shade.

The adventure, the spirit, those golden days,

And as evening comes they drift away.

For My Father, At Ninty-One

I hear you snore, and know you sleep,

And, once again, my vigil keep.

I hear your dog prepare his bed.

He keeps his watch. He doesn’t rest.

I fall asleep and in the night,

The dog comes, with footsteps light,

We quietly creep, to your room to see

If, indeed, you only sleep.

Leaning over your silent chest,

I finally hear the faintest breath.

I hear you breath, and watch you sleep,

And once again I am relieved.

Hush, now, boy, I tell ole Joe,

He is all right. You heard him moan.

That's all it was. But still he keeps

His silent watch as my father sleeps.

I curl up in the easy chair,

And feel the chill that's in the air.

I light a fire, and sit alone, as

Coldness hurts an old man's bones

My father sleeps. I can relax,

But ever ready for my task.

To keep him safe, to meet his needs,

And keep him warm in restless sleep.

I hear you breath. I know you sleep,

And once again I am relieved.

I light the fire and sit alone,

Coldness hurts an old man's bones.

For my Sons on Learning to Walk

Today I tried to capture a moment,

And had it clasped in greedy hand

But lost it as I reached for you

To help you as you tried to stand.

But I kept the tear from fearful eyes

Carressing a cheek, both and tan blushed,

And the smile that followed close behind

A mother's whisper, a mother's touch.

The moments gone, but the smile is mine

And with the tear I'll never part.

They are with me now, and will always be,

For I've tucked them away within my heart.

Just one more time

To see your face

and touch your hand

that's all I ask

but it seems

a question always

unanswered.

uttered in an empty

hall, where echoes

linger like ancient dust

left long ago

by forgotton souls.

I beg you please

stay just a while

a little longer, if you will

the days and nights are

long and cold.

I swear i'm frozen

to my soul

And yet, I know,


you will not stay

you cannot stay here

anymore, why

this is, I cannot know

but only hope that

one day soon, i'll

touch your face

and see your smile,

if only for a little while.