Snowflakes

So many snowflakes from above,
Each one like no other.
They seem to go on their own path,
Swirling wildly round and about.

As they fall in their own way,
They are on a common path.
From the heavens they surely float,
Directly to the waiting earth.

Where they cover all they touch,
Beneath a soft blanket of white.
As they work together,
For with a common goal

Waiting For Sleep To Come


Deep in the night
I search for mind numbing things to do
Waiting for sleep to come.
My mind turns over so many things I’ve done,
Wishing they could be undone.
It makes any rest elusive,
And my mind will not rest,
For many hours to come.

The night goes through changes.
The wind comes up,
Bringing a comforting cool.
The stillness of the night
Broken as thunder rumbles
Closer through the dark.
I hear rain moving up the road.
The shower grows into a torrent.
Lightning flashes.
Thunder roars awakening the night

As with life
The storm moves on
The thunder grows distant
And the rain that once showed its relentless powers
Fades to a drizzle.
And the sudden spring storm departs as it came
Leaving me alone in the night . . .

Waiting for sleep to come


Are You There Ernestine?

Are you there Ernestine?

I see the faint gleam in your eyes
Lighting your lost, fragile smile
And wonder if you are still here,
Or back in a moment from long ago.

Are you here Ernestine?

With the same question asked,
Uncountable times throughout the day;
A victim time so heartless and cruel,
Eating away at your mind, blinding your way,
Living live in a shell of your former self.

Where are you going Ernestine?

Creeping down the center of a busy country lane,
Unaware of others coming the other way.
Living an independence long since past,
Blind to the danger you put in our path.

What are you doing Ernestine?

As you pitter about on unsure steps,
A giant bag clutched on your tiny arm,
Casting a shadow of the elegant girl,
Who turned boy’s heads and broke their hearts.

Won’t you come back Ernestine?

Before you’re lost to time’s embrace,
A fog in our memory. . .
A blurry face.
We will keep your memory alive for a time,
Until our own does subside


The River Moves Along

Misty water passes under a bridge,
Never stopping, always flowing,
It won’t go back to where it began
The river moves along.

Over rocky shoals,
Around crooked bends.
Whirling pools, fast or slow,
The river moves along.

Deep or shallow clear or murky
Carrying debris along its course,
Just under the surface without knowing
The river moves along.

Past homes filled with love and hate,
By the light of day or in the dark,
Under so many bridges along the way;
The river moves along

Under clear skies on a sunny day,
Or a foggy late October night.
The fate of life knows no honor;
The river moves along.

Nothing can stop the water flowing,
On its determined journey
From the mountains to the sea;
The river moves along.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 20.12.2009

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