| Poems Page 2 |
| Guitar strings.. not much alone. Without the wood, not tied to screws.. without the juice.. what's the use? Guitar unplugged. In the corner sits without fingers, no mind full of notes to play- nothing to say. Guitar man tired of the muse's scene- in between songs-- in between dreams. |
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| Moonlight You sit so still, poised in your place-- no wanting, no will- waiting for what, who can say? The most you show is but half of yourself.. your peace undisturbed, soft as dust-- just as well that you never blaze, but, reflecting the light of the earlier day, you're calm, from afar... filtered, like stars. Love you best when you're full and giving your all on the shattered sea swells.. your silver light twice falls. |
| Peace and Quiet It's never so quiet as after great noise. It's never so still as when torment's just gone. There's no such peace as when war's just done. When the storm is raging so loud, you can't hear.. sounds slow to abating, the din everywhere. Can't separate the sounds that fill within-- and all around. But when you're in that special time of in-between storm and clear sunshine- you hear each drop, distinct and clear, on it's (slower now) slide.... from air to branch to ground to ear. |
| The night so quiet, the dark so still- morning coming so slowly- seems forever till it gives light to the dew. And in between, like a needle skipping across songs in my mind, oft comes the dream (so right) of you. |
| Frail boat skimmed over water so deep-- on but not in. Did a small bit seep into depths unknown, or did darkness keep the light unshown? Tail feathers flicked, beat the beat of the wind. Too quick, like an instant's sin-- like a magic trick. Grind your teeth in the night- wake, work, do it again. Won't get it right till you get down in. |
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| Poems Page 1 |
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| Raymond I walked into the woods today (don�t know how I remembered the way) to the old willow tree we used to climb in another life, another time. No trace of it, no sign of it�s withered roots and crusty vines. No drench of shade, no shadowed glade. Sadly, my eyes went down to willow seedlings grown all around, in tune with life from my old tree, now gone. |
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