Little Loving Urchins

waking up

sun breaking

air is still

water calm

a loon wails

tea kettle answers

brew a steaming cup

pull on a sweater

down to the dock

mist rising

lake shimmering

deep breaths

slow sips

in the kitchen

bacon sizzles

eggs are stirred

toast pops

and coffee drips

an angel wakes

comes toddling

from her room

hugging her bear

rubbing sleep

from her bright eyes

a cuddle with mum

to start the day

‘did you have good sleeps’?

gets a nod and a smile

mornings of love and wonder

too soon just memory

little loving urchins

stumbling from their beds

dreams fresh in their faces

warmed by the wood fire

and gentle greetings

snuggling under blankets

clutching a favoured toy

parents spoon cereal

while they have the chance

babci in her bathrobe

and little boy

in the green room

speaking of

bull dozers and birds

busy in the trees

days of play and adventure

splashing in the warm sun

reflected on cool water

running still and deep

like family

~e

A Morning Jewel

sunrise on a northern lake

whorls of mist on the glassy pool

push off from shore in the paddle’s wake

sunrise kayak–a morning jewel

the mist slowly lifts revealing blue

sun burns off its billowy veil

blades carve water straight and true

lily pads sway in the rippling trail

sliding slowly across the bay

as the sun ignites in hues of red

a touch of beauty to start the day

while companions still doze abed

on the other side rise small isles

where birds collect among jutting rocks

blueberry island brings a smile

with noisy gulls amid the flocks

listen for the loon’s wailing call

watch for cormorants flying low

in the marsh stands a heron tall

the wild glides by as i serenely row

so rise with the sun in a scenic spot

for summer’s close is nigh

and every morning kayak taken not

in winter’s freeze evokes a sigh

~e

A Morrow Less Wet

raining raining

windows wet

come the storm clouds

dark and gloomy

an end to sunlight

poorly met

raining raining

dampened fur

the shaking dog

and its dripping coat

on the carpet sleeping

lies the friendly cur

raining raining

lake water stirs

cold grey depths

in lapping waves

no people swimming

no dogs immersed

raining raining

so wet and cold

children huddled

‘neath cozy blankets

quietly reading

within a sofa’s folds

raining raining

boats bob, docked

no water skiers

cross the wake

no rods are cast

no fish are caught

raining raining

laundry spins

dishes washing

a kitchen cleaned

newspaper read

nap begins

raining raining

the unseen sun sets

start the supper

and chill the wine

hope the dawn brings

a morrow less wet

~e

To The Curb In Reverb

slip-slap flat feet hit the mac

rolling out yellow grain growing high

tic-tac bad breath on the mat

walking like you’re late for work

arms glide green fields slide by

pushing up the hilltop

ball fields cut grass warm dry

frisbee flies leaping up dog grabs

young man shin pads soccer ball–gol!

extra practice uniform dribble drills

train rumbles traffic stops red lights ding

cars resume woman with stroller smiles

short breath light sweat level off

paved lot glows hot cars in spots

lester young solo sax–sweet spot

gliding in smooth sound cross town

cross the street tall trees hidden path

leg cramp sidewalk crack broken back

house numbers hydrants painted doors

cul de sac turning back off the track

ella sings heartstrings lush voice

louis toots big horn bold as brass

from the grass to the curb in reverb

walking on heartbeat up setting sun

going down head for home shuffle on

mingus plays fight song takes too long

front door turn the key earphones out

relax gulp some juice kick off shoes

~e

And Small Birds Sing

the house stirs

doors are shut

sun beams in

i am awake

indian music

plays softly

from the kitchen

wafting like spices

poems hung

on the walls

abstract art

everywhere

the mistress’

little touches

throughout

but she’s not here

downstair neighbours

come and go

their numbers grow

vagrants wander

and in my rooms

my pictures hung

an uncle’s lamp

lights waiting laundry

my bonsai grows

new green buds

i pull off everyone

like horsefly wings

in a corner

my mac shines

its calling light

reminds me to write

while wet towels hang

slowly drying

on the back of the door

beside my robe

the sporadic smell

of mary jane

lingers round

stirring memories

lock the door

and start walking

today i climb the hill

ignored too long

the first step

always the hardest

a hurdle leapt

and small birds sing

~e

In So Many Words

storm clouds and broken glass

bleeding fingers and the chilling fog

empty like a tide elapsed

the gnawed abyss deep inside

storm clouds and chain-link fence

the caged voice screams

and in silent torment vents

hot tears streaming cleanse

storm clouds and loneliness

the patient freeze of isolation

anxiety's frisson with attendant stress

the long decline and no sensation

storm clouds and dark of night

the sleeper slowly wakes

and in a stupor stares in fright

at shadows weaving on the walls

storm clouds and bitter rain

the sense of failure's keening ring

the giving up and the trying again

the pervading numbness of everything

storm clouds and rays break through

the shadows and the piercing sun

the lasting struggle for my virtue

the moment passed the challenge won

storm clouds in a steel blue sky

roil and broil toward distant plains

depression in so many words

stills the body and numbs the brain

~e

A Warmth That Went Cold

box of old letters

love letters of old

scent of her incense

and a warmth that went cold

such potent memories

of our lasting fling

we played out our romance

it consumed everything

hearts are too human

and fail over time

discarded connection

the young lover’s crime

time carries on

unmeasured like rain

marking our world

in sand’s single grain

subtle scent beckons

her lovely face

we kissed in the dark

stars shooting apace

a love writ in letters

from beginning to end

hearts bled on pages

we’d faithfully send

our love was shortsighted

and doomed to its fate

i buried her letters

in a dusty old crate

hidden away

abandoned to time

the sad little story

of love in our prime

she chose her way

and i took my own

the world lies between us

we reap what we sow

forgotten and wistful

love letters of old

wilting away

like lovers grown cold

~e