Thank You Lord

 Thank you for the poetry Lord,

  thank you for the verse


Thank you for the words that play

   and on my fields converse


Thank you for the feelings

  letting others join in song


But thank you most for reaching down

  —and guiding me along


(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

     From ‘The Book Of Prayers’

Try To Be Smart

Stop trying to be clever,

  and try to be smart


The coyote said

  to the fox


The hunters are coming,

  the bounty’s been offered


Their traps are all baited

  and boxed


Stop trying to be clever,

  and try to be smart


The coyote to the fox  

  said again


There’s a reason your fur

  is always in season


And mine, never coated

   —or skinned


(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)  

         ‘For My Grandchildren’

Borrowed Time

Today I turned seventy,

 and the clocks all faintly chimed


My hour glass near empty

 to mark the waning time


Weeks left on the calendar

 the moments more than days


With laughter most important now

 each memory through the haze


Today I turned seventy,

 and my dog he seemed to know


He whispered to my grandchildren,

 and their love began to flow


Bright sunshine through the window,

 but night is sure to come


The joy and pain of who I’ve been

 —to live on when I’m gone


(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)



Left To Brew

The daylight hid from the nighttime

 like a rabbit from the fox


As the sun ran through my memory

 freeing moments that were locked


With twilight came a foretelling

 and its darkness swearing true


But a light still burns inside me

 —from a promise left to brew


(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

In Search Of My Own

I traveled from Essex

  to the kingdom of Wales

  in search of a family tree


And passing a cobbler

  I then was reminded

  what these shoes really mean to me


I’ve walked and I’ve walked

  and I’ve searched and I’ve searched,

  for a name more than mine on loan


And through leather worn thin

   these sparse clothes that I’m in

   will walk to China in search of my own


(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)



Killing The Past

I knew you were coming,

  as I walked across the cell

  still in chains


I knew you were crying,

  as the guard called out three times

  announcing your name


Your silence was deafening,

  as my final meal

  was delivered at last


The time intensifying,

  the markings on the wall

   —killing the past


(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)