* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Fantasy
Fantasy is my friend,
the refuge that fosters sanity
where none can ever be,
where irrational anticipation
seizes the wonders
of cellular's connection.
Seamless and wireless,
it rings my selection,
"Home."
Expectation fanned, I stand,
waiting,
waiting for your land-line greeting,
"Hello, ... one-zero-six-five."
And for just one precious moment,
only one delicious moment,
I feel, my love,
that you are still alive.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Reality
Reality,
my cruel companion,
dredges up memories
that are now my only
Reality
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sentries
Shadowed trees
silvered in moonlight
stand as sentries
and watch over my mourning
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lord of My Night
When moonlight scatters among shadowed trees
and memories swirl like falling leaves
ghostly forms from my twisted past
play and replay with no change of cast
They sail forward
They fall behind
these phantoms of my mindless mind.
Lifting up, and down, and around,
insisting, persisting,
with soundless sound,
they assault sweet sleep
which, helpless bound,
stakes no claim to dreamland's right
And Memory reigns-Lord of my night
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I Reach for Stars
It's midnight.
I watch as snow
softly sweeps across my window.
Cold, I see it gleam
on the moonlit hill,
and I wrap myself in flannel.
Cheating winter's chill,
I slip beneath our covers
of woolen fleece.
Then closer--closer I slide
toward your pillow
and with an outstretched hand,
I reach --
I reach for stars:
Stars, on a folded flag,
embroidered white on a field of blue,
resting on the pillow,
that was always meant
for only you.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Haiku for Charles 1
Discrete make believe
Belies the insanity
Your tombstone is real
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Haiku for Charles 2
Winter's frosted moon
Silvers waves upon the sea
Sunrise eats silver
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere Lost in Time
Somewhere lost in time,
a boy with love light in his eyes
put his lips on mine,
and we were lovers then.
But once a love is lost in time,
it's never found again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Counsel of Our Lord
Troubled parents,. have you never heard?
It is the mother and father who feast upon the Word,
And bathed in waters of unwavering faith,
Bear loving fruit, full of heavenly grace.
With joyous hearts sealed in blessed calm,
By souls sustained in peaceful psalms,
Their children follow and fully embrace
The counsel of our Lord.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hazel's Skill
Hazel, my friend, I admire your skill
That, together with your indomitable will,
Transforms a fabric, once woven plain,
To a thing of beauty, a treasure to gain.
Then also weaves in friendship's band
A circle of women who might otherwise stand
Feeling alone with little to do
Except for this talent shared by you.
For fingers that fumbled and once knew aught
Become nimble tools, by Hazel taught.
And as loving ladies, with heartfilled gleam,
Send thousands of dollars to St. Jude's team,
I wonder what child can gratefully say,
"Because of Hazel, I have today."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
From the forum challenge to write a clarihew
My husband's name was Steinman
In life, he was a fine man
He loved his country and his wife
No man could dream a better life
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Martha, the widow of Steinman,
Dared by one of his classmate clan
To pen anew a clerihew
Would prefer to write a billet-doux
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