Sunday, December 18, 2016

December 18, 2016 The Sunday Whirl @78 -- Sunday's Whirligig #90 -- Poets United Poets Pantry/ The Chrildren of Aleppo

The Children of Aleppo
today cold         perfect day to curl up on the couch            cuddle into the cushions

select a favorite book    thrust my toes toward the fire        the morning quiet

the neighborhood like a graveyard      no one about       snowflakes balance on the sage

the sun is out        snow glistens as it melts        dripping moisture onto the thirsty earth



christmas cards still in the package     maybe they are for next christmas     even the wind

is lazy today                still snuggled in             the mother and father playing makebelieve

tell the children about a jolly fat man dressed in red            who drives a team of reindeer

on christmas eve          brings good children gifts            a bag of switches for bad children



... I wonder... what did the children of Aleppo do?



worlds collide             they say it is civil war life                          grinds to a halt

war machines take the streets       life a nightmare                        the volume of war

turned up                    children scream                                          grown men cry

misery is everywhere        everyone trying to escape                    find a safe place



someone dreams of the warmth of straw in the barn                sunbeams filter through

dust motes in the air     eating figs on a summer's day      wasting the afternoon because we can

memories of another time                  today is cold                   our homes in rubble

the road home has vanished        struck from the face of the earth       death and destruction



the symbol of war is everywhere           citizens mutter           search the rubble

for bread                                      the spirit of man down                        but not out

comfortable in our warm beds             we wonder                    how they do it

could we do the same                  could we survive                   could our children

December 18, 2016





















Wednesday, December 14, 2016

December 14, 2016 Poets United Midweek Motif -- Music/

Spirit's Song

the music i like most        is made by the wind        when it whistles through the sage

and across the mesa         winter wind comes to my door          wants me to let him in

songs of birds                   beautiful and mysterious              as they call to each other

from the tops of sage        in lonely canyons                      canyon songs can be heard

in the late afternoon          the sounds of drums                         float to meet me

the river babbles and sings          as it flows south              heading for the border

spirit is in the wind            its' song echoes in my mind            no need of words

my body sways                  i am surrounded by your song         i visualize your return

                                                                                                     ...i hum along

December 14, 2016






Sunday, December 11, 2016

December 11, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig #87 -- The Sunday Whirl #277-- Poets United/ The Answer

The Answer

you say it is the answer but what is the question

the question changes the focus changes we change

the morning grey overcast clouds hang low

cover the mountain tops the yellow sun sleeps late

pulls the covers over his head snuggles back into his cozy bed



often life itself seems like a game who will win

who has the momentum who will hit a foul ball

the crack of the bat the ball flies high perhaps it will be you

who catches the ball or perhaps it will be a home run

take all the bases rejoice your reputation is not tarnished



there is no grime on the bus windows your vision clear

no shame you are still sane though a bit unsteady

your instincts will get you through you haven't lost your touch

the wheel spins you pick three you wait

put up your shield close the door look for answers

December 11, 2016








Sunday, December 4, 2016

December 4 2016 Sunday's Whirligig -- Poets United Poets Pantry/To Die

To Die

to die      it's just a matter of time             be it then or now

be it autumn        when the leaves fall from the trees      bare limbs remain

your favorite time of year     ...or some other exceptional time      your leaving

will be a loss        i will suffer                   and there will be longing

i have walked this path before        not to say              i know it all

i do not                  only my own experience                it is hard

there is no outline       no instructions                           no map

you will be languid        there will be hints                   but no escape

no way back                   the road only goes forward        there will be no more

it is the last thing we do       no one knows what comes after          only silence


December 4, 2016