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Proceeding

It was two glasses in
And the curling memory of brunette hair,
But she has erewhile gone
And Sonoma Merlot just doesn’t care.
The rhymes won’t come—
Here I am inside this couplet mess.
I guess it takes more than mere Love
To complete this synapsing poetic process.
Meld two roughs into one,
Balance the scan and mind the rhyme,
Maybe I’ll get some ‘Likes’;
I manage to do so from time to time.
Fear floods in;
I managed to lose my job.
Now with gray hairs and beard
Who now would care to hobnob.
Today next-door neighbor
Pleasantly responded to my hi and hello.
There’s no ‘there’ there
And it’s so past time for me to go.
Brother turned sixty—
Who knows about sixty-one.
Wish we were better friends;
A brother would be nice on this long end run.
We need a finishing couplet to release our tortured reader;
It’s all good, love from your poet, another forgotten bottom feeder.

Bumblebee and Sally

Sally Gossamer Wingstep heard a most curious sound,
It came from beyond the wilderness copse, over, about, and around;
When Sally flew around the last tree a wonder she could see
A greying Fablehaven hound softly baying at a prone bumblebee.
Sally risked to go closer to inspect this quite usual sight—
Instantly she flew for Johnny H. Beekeeper in a quite frenzied flight.
Can he find the resolution for a bee brought down so low?
If he lacks the right solution, where then could she ever go?
Johnny was tending keen to the so new garden green—
Petite pois on the trellis, coifed and coiled like you’ve never seen,
Tomates on the vine, carrots long and tall, blueberries arching high;
And Johnny’s prized honeycombs, so grand as to make a master bumble bee sigh,
And cousin-once-removed baby Amber Grace with the prettiest wee fairy face
Was flutter-skurrying in and out of plants and was just all over the place!
“Johnny, O Johnny”, Sally cried to her family friend with sure pride
“Come quick with me to see this poor poor bee, laid low and curled to one side.”
Finding hard-working Katje to attend their baby Amber Grace
Sally and Johnny flew straight off to the far away wooded place
With simple mind and quiet grace, John approached the curled up bee
But twas nothing more could be done, was plain and simple to see.
“Let’s take him home” offered John to Sally’s slow honoring tears,
Nodding, Sally looked for brambles to build a sled as for one’s peers.
A far off buzz grew nearer, the Wild Hive had come to find their brother;
A rippling peace reigned as Bumble Bee and Fairy regarded one another.
John and Sally backed away bowing as the Bumble Bees took up the reins
The bees would long remember how those aloof fairies had taken such pains.
The old Fablehaven hound bayed again as the sled disappeared around the wooded copse;
Sally and John made their long slow way back to home and the fairy-grown crops.
Sally made her thank you’s and kissed wee Amber Grace
Quite a wonder to see how Honor and Love forever bless this place.

My Stop

Sally Somewhat Lovely wondered why all the fuss
She had just been standing there awaiting the bus,
When Bob Horridman stumble stumbled across the street;
Bobby wan’t much to look at, but Sally, he wanted to meet.
Exchanged hellos and embarrassed burps and such,
The two wannaloves stood close but they didn’t touch;
Then Bob stepped off the curb to gather his thoughts
And a Chrysler mowed him down and connected the final dots—
Because inanimate objects always win over flesh and blood.
It dawned a rainy day, the sun came out, but ended with a thud.
Later on the Crosstown bus Sally Somewhat Lovely didn’t cry
She tried to remember his face, didn’t, couldn’t understand why;
She had just been waiting for her end-of-day bus ride home,
Now sitting seared with the image of flashing cloth, blood and chrome.
She looked out to see the leaves were all gone from the oak tree top,
Then the familiar called and she stood to say, “Okay, Driver, this is my stop.”

When A Cat Goes To Heaven

When a cat goes to Heaven
He can chase all the mice around
But he quickly finds they’re fast friends
Enjoying cheese and tuna by the pound

When a cat goes to Heaven
He gets his 9 lives back
Such a celebration 9 times a year
For nothing will he ever lack

When a cat goes to Heaven
Furballs are a thing of the past
And oh please about those fleas
To a different place are they all cast

When a cat goes to Heaven
He watches over his owner every day
And when his friend comes to his or her end
Your cat will show you the most heavenly places to run and play

His Own Way

Begging your pardon
I’ve not a blessed thing to say
Could you look into these eyes—
I watched my Papa die today

He went pretty easy
He went how he wanted
No extra measures called for
No one’s gonna be haunted

Asking your blessing
But what can I do for you?
You share your smile with the angels
Can you tell me what I’m supposed to do?

Papa died clean
Papa died in his own bed
Hospice got their dnr
But Papa went his own way instead

Families walk over the worst when at their best
Your heroic work is done, son, now take you rest

A Leaf of Plot

Death raised his scythe on high
The Final Answer was at hand
No more questions broached
No replies begged or risked demand

The leaf at last let it all go
Fluttered to its demise below
The wind added its sighed contempt
Blew our leaf scuttering to a future undreamt

Down the path with attention rapt
A 17-nothing wrought prose off the rack
Laurie screamed—the leaf brushed her face!
Characterization blanched: there’d be no turning back

A writer in a Nature, freed of pretense
Her plot thickened and made Total Sense
Death winced scurrilously and not too haughty
17-nothing conjured twists bland and who knows—naughty?

The wind richened and hurried our protagonists along:
A dead leaf and a fallowed teenager trying to catch the song

There Was That Tear That Refused To Fall

There was once that tear that refused to fall
It lingered long but turned deaf to gravity’s call
A hospice someone had thanked and departed
Seems the end can be a long time before it is started

Instructions passed calmly for our nurse erstwhile
Morphine administered to salve a torment febrile
Half, then, quarter, then, tenth of breaths short taken
The daughter was only too aware though rudely shaken

Why did God allow such stupid pain to tartly linger?
Cannot God wave it all away with a half-crooked finger?
The line is that it is not ever ours to even wonder
At the lithe petal that can mock the mighty thunder

Mother then at long last breathed her living last
And son and daughter became bereaved newly-cast
And that tear that just would not suffer to fall
Was joined in torrents heeding mourning’s pall
A history written and rewritten for the to-be-departed
Seems the end can be a long time before it’s even started

As It Will

Small people, little people
The Wind knows nothing of these
Big times, noble times
The Rains still fill the trees
Grand Love, Heartbreak
Discover your knees
One death, another last breath
Time passes as it will please

A month ends, a new week shines
No right answer calls
Newborn cries, an old lady sighs
A poor candle spits and stalls
Sun glows, Moon rises
Cold blusters thru the walls
A bell rings, the horde finds the access road
Time and midday traffic stalls

Little people, my people
Earthkind teeming all around
Mere races, many-coloured faces
Trying to keep above ground
Have Faith with Freedom to saith~
I disagree with what you propound
Singers spiel, Dancers reel
Look to what Music has found

Another death, one last breath
Time passes as it will please

It Will

Pity you couldn’t stay
You could’ve had me for a song
But of course you couldn’t stay
You couldn’t be away for so long
Your sister was nigh passing
A transition to a better place
You were there to hold her hand
You were there to stroke her face
To tell her don’t be afraid
To tell her everything’s okay
And you’ll be there so soon
And it’ll be a better day

Funeral home-bitter tears-cremation
Death’s clean industry will never end
You did your hard, honored part
Your Love and Spirit did well attend

Grieve, all should and will now
Love will take her keen shrouded bow
Hold onto the memories small and pale
You walk the path of an old, holy trail

Please, don’t be afraid
Please know everything’s okay
And all will be whole soon
And it’s already a better day

Chopin Prelude Number 13

The pretext to context—
I’m not supposed to be here:
That’s what my father told me.
But here i am, dropping a tear.
Now, quit my next job,
As brother suffers the same.
How do i talk with you
To get out of this game?
i had a true love;
i failed her so bad;
Now i have a daughter—
Damn, how can I do ‘Dad?’
Pallbeared in Marble Falls,
A family ripped apart,
I can’t do this any more
With this ignorant heart.
Brother, thankfully, didn’t die,
Though anger rules his house.
I’d love to be of help,
But he only sees another louse.
So i put down these lines
To see where can I go—
Can we really ever help?
No? Yeah, I suppose I should know.
But here i am, dropping a tear.