Of Love

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I wrote this about a young friend of mine who was about to become a first time father... he's not exactly a "poetry reading type"... Police Officer, Harley rider, Hunter etc."... but, I knew him when he was a little boy...and the little boy is still in there... He didn't have a clue what this new little girl was gonna do to him. Never did show him the poem...



A feeling of euphoria;
a woman and a rose;
a long, committed partnership;
of love the husband knows.

A tenuous and abstract thing
of love he understands…
or thought he did until they
put a baby in his hands.

A tiny girl in tatted lace
has brought him to his knees;
she grips his heart with fear at
every cough and baby sneeze.

She calls to him in silent nights;
the deepest sleep defeats--
she hold his breath in hostage till
he knows her heart still beats.

Behold, the hulking man of men
of beastly, manly powers--
who’s brought to tears by tiny fists
with gifts of mangled flowers.

A feeling of euphoria;
a little girl, a rose;
a dirty face, a sloppy kiss;
of love the father knows.

In a Hand Basket

________________________________________ The bike is coasting down the lane the wheels go round and round, why am I in this basket and where is it that I’m bound? I take my chance, a leap of faith, then quickly to the farm. To jump into her arms, again I’m safe from further harm. Then off to walk the yellow road, adventures are in store. I think it’s safe to say we aren’t in Kansas anymore. This was inspired by a bumper sticker I saw today.... it read, "Why am I in this hand basket, and where am I going?" and it just wouldn't go away until I wrote it. "If happy little bluebirds fly Beyond the rainbow, Why oh why can't I?"

It Follows

My eyes roam skyward sailing East
and though each moment seems a moon
when senses on such beauty feast
the night will pass away too soon.

My soul is drawn when sailing west
to more than one can safe absorb.
I am by heaven's grace possessed;
enraptured by an ancient orb.

It follows that a moonlit sky
will call your beauty to my mind.
No matter where my roving eye;
no matter where you are I find
a glow that distance can't eclipse;
I feel your love-- if not your lips.

Old Salt

"'O God the sea is so great and my boat is so small.'" ~ John F. Kennedy ~

Man hoists a sail to fly upon the wind,
through spray and storm; to scale the mountain sea.
And though it’s just, it feels as good as sin
and moves us near to heaven; ecstacy
that fires the human spirit. God’s decree
was that our salt should match the sea, and this
has charged the very blood that flows in thee.

A sailor bleeds of nature’s dark abyss
and lives to taste her tears; her deep primeval kiss.




"I really don't know why it is that all of us are so committed to the sea, except I think it's because in addition to the fact that the sea changes, and the light changes, and ships change, it's because we all came from the sea. And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have, in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea--whether it is to sail or to watch it--we are going back from whence we came."

~ John F. Kennedy ~ Remarks in Newport at the Australian Ambassador's Dinner for the America's Cup Crews, September 14, 1962, Public Papers of the Presidents: 1962, p. 684.