Her voice resonates
Strongly in my delighted ear;
My soul smiles -
As if she'd not died years ago
And been shut away in a wall ...

marred by insults
the heart heals with time
scar tissue remains

I stroll down the sun-dappled trail                              
under a tranquil canopy of trees
where the glow of light uplifts my spirit
and the shades of shadow soothe my soul,
The aroma of blossoming flowers
strives to set me free from
the restless nights and trying days
persuading my forlorn heart
to venture forth
in the quest of love anew;

I believe in charity –
Simple but profound –
Joy made compound –
Spurred momentarily.

One act – hand to hand –
Across the bridge –
Is one’s privilege
For the strong withstand.

I believe in humanity
And if a smile be requited –
Humble and innocent –
It little cost me.

I am your enthusiasm
That helps you learn a new thing.
I am your hand mirror
Beholding you on a bright morning.
I am your sandals
That caress your soft soles.
I am a whispered prayer
Hanging while you doze.
I am your blanket
Keeping you warm at night.
I am your luck that flies by day
To make things go right.
I am the one in your life
Who stays near and keeps you -
If only you knew.

My heart is an empty jardiniere
Receptive to flowers and affection.
By your wayward glances, I could swear
There is a festering attraction
But speak up bravely; be not passive
And may we start a journey called love.

Wonder why black or white isn’t the only option?
Why gray became a choice?
Why sitting on the fence became acceptable
When the fence was meant to divide, not cradle?

Time, man’s greatest ally,
And perhaps his worst enemy.
I suppose it depends which side of the fence you’re on.

Time blurs things,
Until you question if they ever were.
It creates illusions so vivid,
You think they’ve always existed.
It heals old wounds
Or tears open new ones.
It births both the best memories
And the worst.
Do any come to mind?

JUST A SHOWER

They’d said it would be raining all day
Well, not just rain but a thunderstorm
Yet for this time of year, it’s the norm
And what d’ya know, it’s true to form
But more likely as showers, I would say

I admit to liking that gentle pitter patter
As if trying to wash away all of the lies
Feelings of being cleansed is no surprise
Almost similar to these tears in my eyes
But just those few drops do not matter

Rarely freezing, even warm on occasion
It can seem like that from time to time
Less a song of rain, it’s more like mime