. Renaissance for Rob Salminen I am as old as I have ever been, And I've not seen all that I'd hoped to see— But every day my life begins again, And I'm as young as I will ever be. . . Lost and Found a pantoum It’s hard to...
Read moreDetails. Renaissance for Rob Salminen I am as old as I have ever been, And I've not seen all that I'd hoped to see— But every day my life begins again, And I'm as young as I will ever be. . . Lost and Found a pantoum It’s hard to...
Read moreDetails. My Heart's Desire There is one thing that I long for, _and another that I need. One essential to my soul, _the other made of dreams. My heart tries to deceive me, _wants what I can’t have. The Spirit dwelling deep within me _has a better plan. I justify...
Read moreDetails. Truths Be Known _A cryptical dawning _This foggy gray morning With images drifting about. _Deceptive impressions, _Opaque are the visions, Illusions of Wonder, no doubt. _Then comes a clearing, _All truths now appearing As vapors disperse to the sky. _Conceptions unveiling, _Awareness prevailing, Reality cannot deny. . . Margaret...
Read moreDetails. Capacity “This is too big and inexcusably Extravagant, so next time I insist We buy a smaller glass. This one will be Always half-empty,” said the realist. “You say this from experience,” replied The visionary, “But should realize That if our lot improved then you and I’d Be sorry...
Read moreDetails. Aged Elation When reaching that age where you fear getting slow, The advent of faculties starting to go, It’s great inspiration---you can’t ask for more--- To figure out something you couldn’t before. . . Adaptation We aren’t blessed with complete compatibility. At times I’m not so sweet; you more...
Read moreDetails. Strauss Vater Scene: Vienna, Austrian Empire: Midnight, October 15, 1844. On this night the famous musician, Johann Strauss, Sr. snubbed the professional musical debut of his soon-to-be famous son, Johann Strauss, Jr. (nicknamed “Schanni” by his relatives) at Dommayer’s Casino. Strauss Sr. had been engaged in a campaign to...
Read moreDetails. Scarlet Pimpernel Amassing clouds—the air still warm; But you, my scarlet pimpernel, You sense that there's a coming storm, Compress your petals, and transform To brave the current's rising swell. . The pimpernel is also called the "old man's weathervane" because it closes when there's a drop in atmospheric...
Read moreDetails. Fifties Country Living Sit down with me my children, come! __I'll spin a tale or two About when I was just a kid __in nineteen fifty-two. No cell phones, televisions, laptops, __email, or internet, Connecting with each other face __to face was your best bet. Oil was for cars...
Read moreDetails. Moments Matter When my daughter was just three __I took her to the zoo. She laughed and smiled and had a blast __And I myself did, too. My friends said, “Why did you do that? __She will not recall The day you took her to the zoo, __At least...
Read moreDetails. A Grain of Sand A grain of sand got lodged into __A little seagull's eye. He spluttered with indignant rage, __"Now I can't even fly!" And so his eye grew worse and worse, __The seagull shrieked and whined. Until one day the poor old bird __Eventually turned blind! A...
Read moreDetails. Evensong The embers dimmed on the Pacific; _The sky a scarlet hue. One might conclude the fire seraphic--- _A seascape brushed by the muse. Some mares’ tails smudged the vista with soot _While gulls alighted on sand. The beach was wet---I’d not set foot _And desecrate this strand. The...
Read moreDetails. A Bogus Bishop’s Prayer My prayer is not pitched heavenward _To fall upon deaf ears. It’s lashed to Earth for greater good. _It cashes in on tears. It's feathered several nests for years--- _I'm Croesus-rich and famed. I’m feasting at the public trough _And I am not ashamed. My...
Read moreDetails. Another Winter Another winter's growing old. __Another spring is coming. Another hive, gripped by a branch, __Will make its endless thrumming. Another smile's to soon emerge __From pastel white primroses. Another swallowtail will grace __Our garden with her poses. Another year for taking out __The worn clothes from my...
Read moreDetails. On the Porch The roof and eaves, low walls or none, slim railings, Contrive a sense of shelter customary. Worn floor between front steps and door betokens Minutes or hours of ease preliminary. The aura framed by any style of column Enhances intimate communication, For porch-positioned outlooks gently foster,...
Read moreDetails. Reflections on Still Waters . Isaiah 55:12 You shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace, And a song will break forth from the lands. While the echoes of praise in the hills never cease, And the trees of the field clap their hands. . 1...
Read moreDetails. Lament to the Passing of Paper I learned to write my A-B-Cs and form my shapely 1-2-3s on paper, when I was a lad; but now, since I’ve become a dad, the era of the written word is passing like the dodo bird. The whisper of the turning page,...
Read moreDetails. A Summer Hour A burgeoning bush, some butterflies, Low wooden steps, warped, faded, rise Amid the calm of idle talk— The blur of shadows on the walk. Sometimes a passing, random thought Within winged fantasy is caught, While puffed clouds in a bowl of blue Lie quiet in the...
Read moreDetails. Concerning Snow ---a conversation between Beauty and Necessity “Well, there you go again.” “What's that?” “Come now, don't act so innocent. You see that plow out there, defacing what it took all night for me to sculpt.” “Now listen, let’s not fight about this, not again. It’s only snow,...
Read moreDetails. Classic Case History Though I was blind, it wasn’t hard to see That blindness was a gift at least as good As any other. People seeing me As someone less insightful than he should Have been were blurry shadows on a field Of murky gray, and I was able...
Read moreDetails. The Grindstone The grindstone spun as fiery sparks were sprayed,for even iron broke against his force,and by his edge the blunt became the bladea king would hold upon his charging horse. The stone was proud to be of use to kings,for by his work the grindstone was defined,and loved...
Read moreDetails. Forecast One to Two Inches Within the snow’s approach I sense a hope Connected more to memory than truth. It fails to fall within the narrow scope Of solid message; seems instead a trope For something bright and clear and lost: A Midwest morning; backyard winter-tossed; A world made...
Read moreDetails. The Untimely Demise of My Dear Uncle Sam I received the somber news __as sun set low today. My beloved Uncle Sam __by death was swept away. It wasn’t on the battlefield that __he met his demise. ‘Twas long before when men ignored __the counsel of the wise. Through...
Read moreDetails. Accidents Happen We’re told time tends toward catastrophe, And that a butterfly’s ephemeral wings Might quake the sky somewhere across the sea By strange cascades of simple happenings, Arousing thus a violent hurricane; Which is to say that no one really knows Just how or why occurrences occur, But...
Read moreDetails. The Settlers —to my forefathers, and all the intrepid men and womenwho settled the Oklahoma panhandle. Across these barren hills, the cold winds blow,As bitter now as in those days long past,When first their rustic wagon, rolling slow,Came down a slope against an icy blast, And settled on this...
Read moreDetails. Snow Sonnet Where silent flakes of whiteness fill the air And cutting winds of winter come to rule The bitter storm of new year strips all bare With iciness at once perfect and cruel. We drift into an otherworldly realm Where spectral pallor shrouds the sleeping earth Such beauty...
Read moreDetails. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Silently beats an invisible clock. Night turns to day, day turns to night. Following a metronome nowhere in sight. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Sixty seconds make a minute. Sixty minutes, the hour limit. Twenty-four hours beget a day. Seven-day weeks just slip...
Read moreDetails. Autumn Twilight Full moon. Crickets singing. Scarlet sky.Long past summer solstice; now the sunDescends before the short day’s work is done.Last light and fast-invading violet vieTo shape inconstant shadows. Moving cloudsRe-sculpt themselves, suffusing the horizonWith sunset’s deepening watercolor-crimson.Together with the cricket choir, crowdsOf brittle oak leaves rattle---tambourinesSyncopating nightfall’s music....
Read moreDetails. The Introvert Sequestered in an abstract mood,Replete in blissful solitude;Behind the veil of scenes overtYou’ll find the pensive introvert. You may not find him center stage,The Hercules of any age;But like the spy who goes unseenHe functions best behind the scenes. The kind of friendship that he seeks,The few...
Read moreDetails. Libra There in my hand I held a crystal vial Of distillation potent, red, and sweet, By which my broken heart was put on trial, And golden apples scattered at my feet. Ask not the name of him who gave to me The dark elixir, nor the price I...
Read moreDetails. On Bill Mahrt’s Retirement as Choirmaster of the St. Ann Choir (June, 2024) W e all should thank our God for William Mahrt, I nto whose hands He placed a sacred trust, L eaving to him to keep the aural art L aid down with care, but left to...
Read moreDetails. I Will Awaken the Dawn The birds have yet to echo Their songs across the trees, The sun has yet to whistle Its foggy rays in streams, The dark still holds the world, Creation slumbers on; But now the time has come, And I will awaken the dawn. The...
Read moreDetails. True Love On a hill far away, a true love waits, In a place of weathered, broken gates. And though the gates are falling down, One place on the hill is hallowed ground. Nothing moves on that faraway hill, But dry, dead leaves and a wind that’s chill. And...
Read moreDetails. Another Crossroads I have a rendezvous with destiny.It’s at the crossroads of Straight Street and Main.With cardboard sign, that man rules his domain.(Cops do not bother with such vagrancy.)Some iced tea and granola bars—my snack.The green light cautions, quickly turns to red.The dude certainly does not look well fed.He’ll...
Read moreDetails. The Magic Trick Another dove spawns from the wizard's hat. A youngster, goggle-eyed, forgets to clap, enchanted by the spell. With every flap this spongy creature makes, he wonders at the skill required to master such a craft. Last stunt, and then the curtains will unfurl. Dissected in two...
Read moreDetails. Cloth of Destiny From his jail cell, he preached civility— despite the agony centuries had brought. Proud Rosa occupied a seat; though fraught with risk, that act preserved her dignity. We dreamed of equal opportunity, and bloody segregation’s end besought. King asked: “How can such justice not be wrought...
Read moreDetails. Anticipating President Trump’s Golden Age Unburdened from that which has recently been. An era of progress about to begin. Mending the messes afflicting our nation. Ending the slow California-cation. Money for groceries, and eggs by the crate. Payments to credit cards, never made late. Dining, at times, at a...
Read moreDetailsFree People In some sense, free people have no needOf poets to give their speech a better voice.But freedom wanes without great art and heedOf powers that will enslave us with rejoiceIf only given a chance. They’re here again,Insidious as ever, they’ll try to seduceAnd lull the hearts of good...
Read moreDetails. Stones for My Parents I didn’t want to come. How sad it sounded To kneel beneath a hazy sun surrounded By strangers’ graves---grim watchmen for the bones Of those who’ve crossed the Bridge. The ghosts outnumber The living---I can’t even count the stones. But somewhere in these rows I...
Read moreDetails. Whoever Am I? Preface to His Poetry .by Prudentius (c. 4th century AD)translated by Margaret Coats If I see clear, through fifty yearsI’ve lived. The seventh after them appears to wheelAround as we enjoy these whirling circlings of the sun. My end is near, and every dayThat God may...
Read moreDetails. The Hectic Life _Sometimes we get discouraged _With life and all its fuss, Its raucous moments speeding by _Like children on a bus. _It’s all the hectic worries, _The troubles and the stress, That pull us down and tear us up _And make our life a mess. _They make...
Read moreDetailsMany thanks for this pure tribute to the boy who is the best known of the individually canonized martyrs from…
Great galloping rhythm, David. Your atmosphere owes much to the sensitive eye of the soldier and surveyor--whose observations appear mainly…
Grazie, Maria. Molto sensibile alla vostra gentilezza.
Very inspiring Heera. How lucky you are that the good Lord has pursued you so completely.
Being a Poetess myself, this poem brough me to tears because I can resonate with it. I am a single…
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