Often,
Life’s greatest pleasure
—is getting the pain to stop

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)

In reference to nothing
Alone with itself
The truth burns in fury
Damnation to melt
Its legions are many
Believers so few
The stragglers all freezing
And lined in the queue
The mirror the liar
Death hiding within
The priest the deceiver
Who threatens with sin
But truth holds dominion
Setting fire to the throne
Rising above and beyond
What’s self-righteously known
It calls to you silent
As it calls to you loud
Do you hide in the shadows
Or answer back proud
That thing that you reference
From your prison within
Those things done in deference
Now caught in the wind
You lie as you bargain
You cheat and defame
One voice now your jailer
And calling your name
Your back to the altar
You hide in the pew
Before robbing the poor box
A new low for you
Your history tarnished
And legacy shot
Your name ill-begotten
From all you are not
But truth has no time stamp
No ticket to claim
One choice will release it
Life starting again
Your mortal days finite
You have to act fast
Will you ask for redemption
—your soul to repast

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)

A steward of memory
  —the caretaker of dreams

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)

The older I get
The less people to call
Is it by choice
My spirit’s downfall

The older I get
The less then to care
A life once so pointed
With little to share

The older I get
Beginning to end
The ones that stood by me
The ones I called friends

The older I get
Meat gone from the stew
The faces just names
Of those I once knew

The older I get
Doors lock from within
A constant reminder
The blaming now stings

The older I get
The less people to call
No sand in the hourglass
—last curtain to fall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)

As days become short
  the more precious each hour becomes

Memories lengthen
  to stretch like the rays of the sun

Time is unfolded
  its layers unmasked to expose

This moment transcendent
—the past and the future deposed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)

Victory is a lover
—that must be wed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2014)

My first breath every morning
   a thank-you to the Lord

My heart beats then in tribute
  single note in heaven’s chord

My last breath every evening,
  as I close my eyes to sleep

To thank him softly once again
—his grace now mine to keep

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
  From ‘The Book Of Prayers’
  Written for my Grandchildren:
  Kiley, Hunter, Braden and Parker

In a region divided
  on a hill far away

A last echo subsided
  quiet ruling the fray

The soldiers asleep
  fate waiting for dawn

New blood to be spilled
  ever right—ever wrong

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)

An unknown voice cried

  out from the abyss

As the nameless got in line

 with the rest

 

Promises offered

    lies to reclaim

As the devil called out roll 

  from his list

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2014)