Ages of Man

While the old man sits and rocks, thinking, dwelling
On what was, what might have been,
Considering the paths he should have, might have, could have
Taken through a long, wandering life,
He dreams of loves lost, of battles fought
Of happier times, of meaningful moments.
He knows full well there are more days
Behind this day, stacked up, piled up
In his sputtering memory
Than there are ahead for him.

A young man walks, not looking yet
For a path or trail, not considering where
Foot may fall, or which road is taken.
His mind wanders over things he will do
Hopes and dreams, goals and "gimmees"
Wants, desires, lusts, laundry lists of things
Fill his rumbling, tumbling, busy mind.

Baby boys sits up,
Falls over, rolls over
Lifts foot high in the air
And contemplates his big toe.

The Watcher

Old, feeling ancient,
He sits on his porch
Rests on his porch swing
Grizzled brown mountain cur
Curled up by his side.
Weary, bleary, rheumy
Eyes fixed on the road.

Watching, patiently waiting
Sitting so quiet, so very still

The soft, rythmic snoring
Of his worn little dog
Is the only sound to hear.
Way down yonder,
Far piece down the road
The sound of an engine
The dust rising from the road
Beat up old Ford truck
Shakes, rattles, rolls
Comes closer, closer
Slow, passes by.
Old man, most ancient
Throws up a hand
Driver responds
Nod, touch of the hat.
Truck rumbles and gone.

Old, feeling ancient,
He sits on his porch
Rests on his porch swing
Grizzled brown mountain cur
Curled up by his side.

Weary, bleary, rheumy
Eyes fixed on the road.               Watching, patiently waiting

Finger painted morning

Birds sing their simple morning songs
Peepers shrug off the chilled dawn
Joining the chorus with their songs
Of bog bound love and loneliness.
In the trees squirrels are just awake
And rubbing a tiny paw on sleepy eyes.
A weary ol' mama possum walks along,weary
Looking for breakfast, digging through
Thick leavings from Autumn and Winter.
Serving as omnibus for six tiny youngin's
Clingin' to her back, holdin' on tight
Tooth and jaw clamped to mama
Like rat ugly hair clips.
Yet above all the hustle, the frenzy
The bustle, the busy, frenetic
The cheeping, the peeping, tweet tweeting
And croaking, harumphing, coo cooing
Conk honking, qua-quacking, whee wheeting
Of morn...
Above all the caught up-ness, the mating
The eating, the cleaning, the seeking
The business of dawn
God is slowly painting the horizon
Once more with the finger paints of creation

Dogs, they am happy

Dogs, they am happy
Wiggle all over.
Dogs they am happy,
Glad to be seen.
Skin loose an jiggly
Ears just right floppy
Tail it am thumpin'
Come on now,
Let's eat.

Bird Songs

Early, early, damp, dark morning
Whispers of sunrise, glimpses of dawn
Six in the morning, rising for coffee
Smelling the bacon, hear the sizzle of eggs
Birdsong is rising, hinting near the horizon
Flying ahead and heralding morn.
Whistles and tweets and "tum tum tum twee twee
Arise and be joyful, take to your wings.
Join us in singing, fly up now skyward
Morning is coming, come, let us sing."

Deep Place

What is that deep place the soul goes
Saddened and lonely, hurt and hungry
Digging, burrowing so deep, so low
Blind, angry and deaf to the joy
Not hearing or seeing tomorrow
Sleepless, yet so sleepy
Seeking respite, relief, comfort and care.
Broken and wounded, sick and confused.
Can't and won't look around
Building a prison, rock and stone
Rock of rejection, stone of sadness
Erecting and edifice of pain and regret.
Monument to madness
Pylons of pain and suffering.
Bowed and broken by self pity.
Alone, alone, his choice is
Alone.

Timeless Melody

Little boy
Thinks he is
Alone
Beats and thumps
On his bare belly
And sings
Rubaduba
Dubadub
Whacka whacka
Doobie dooo.
Eternal youth
Timeless melody