A Love Note (day 781)

I thought I was picking up a love note
Delicate letters written for her eyes only
Speaking of some fair damosels beauty
With long golden hair so fine
Fairy tales were written with it in mind
Perhaps of her smooth and noble skin
So soft it soothed any sad thoughts away
I thought I was going to read about
Such graceful and elegant fingers
Scarcely seen a day of hard labors toil
Or of the emotions evoked from
Eyes so blue and deep
Philosophers sought them to speak of future

But alas, what I had found
Was a list of odd measurements
Unintelligible and incomprehensible

Poem For a Great Dog (day 780)

I had a dog – a great dog to do him right
A dog so valiant he was my brother
A dog so honorable he made me proud

His sticks were always the biggest sticks
That the forest could offer up
Two lengths wide; head held so high
That was the kind of dog my dog was
And when you threw that stick for him
There wasn’t another care in the world
Bounding over logs and through tall grass
Around small trees and through thick brush

I would let him come upstairs
Sit by my feet as I worked away mine toils
Especially with loud thunder
Shaking yonder hills
I can still clearly remember when,
As a young pup, I tried to acclimatize
The tiny dog to a perch on my bed
He grew so fast and at first chance
He jumped from those heights to
More stable grounds below

He made friends with all the other dogs
He was loved by all those who knew him
His heart beat so true none could deny
His kind, gentle demeanor as he prodded on
Hardly a pup could try his strong patience
But let’s not be fooled that when needed
He wouldn’t take much testing
From neighborhood mutts

It is uncountable the amount of times
He would scare away a bear, herd away a moose
Scamper after a fleeting deer through long grass
Or jump at the sound of the resident squirrel
Sending him high in branches of his tree
He would lose himself in the forest tracking a scent
Only to reappear down the trail looking for me

He had his friends that roamed the trail behind the house
The young girl down the road and her witty sled dog
The Germans and their duck dog, oh what a pair those two made!
One that couldn’t stand a loud sound
The other that lived for the sound of a shot!
Or the wolf hound three doors down
And the proud girl with her border collie around the bend

He was a great dog, the dog that I had
When I returned home, his tail would knock
Over anything near, excited yelps uncontrollable
He would always put his nose between your legs
Slowly walking through as you scratched him down
When you got to his tail, his legs would go weak
For it was there that gave him infinite pleasure

I will miss the dog that I once had
A great dog, a brother of mine till the end
I will miss him more than the trails we used to walk
Or the seasons we’d always play

HonemoonDriveHike-20110722 (106 of 164)

Looked Like a Lover (day 779)

She looked like a lover I used to have
Who wouldn’t let me hold her tight
Though she’d lay naked on my bed

She looked like a lover I used to know
Who would sing a song to my keen heart
Then tell me not to listen to a word

She looked like a lover I used to love
Eyes so wide, figure so heavenly
But she told me not to smile again

She looked like a lover I used to believe
Words weaving dreams and harmony
Till she blew out her last plume of smoke

She looked like a lover I used to praise
Elegant and beauty deep and divine
Then she spoiled my words with one final goodbye

Röbert Mönchkin (day 778)

It isn’t that the seasons take away my pleasures I bask in in the summer; running carelessly about the fences and jumping from branch to branch. No.

It isn’t the shade from the sun, nor the darkest of clouds that hover over horizons I see from the top of these branches in this place I call home. No.

It isn’t the infestation of caterpillars that slither their way into every single crevice I’ve ever held dear to me and my family, eating away the lush green leaves that paint the exterior of my home. No.

It isn’t the bears the rummage in my little piles of stores I’ve secured away for winter lengths, nor the beavers that take my home for theirs. No.

It’s that blasted dog that jumps every single time he sees me, barreling away at the highest speeds to bark me all the way up the tree.

But, I suppose that I do provoke him with my constant chattering and taunting…

aSquirrelII

Röbert can be purchased here.

Ruckus, and Other Saintly Practices (day 776)

Touch me as I lose control of my breath
Lower my eyes into the depths of fire
Invite my courage to span this low lit mood
Rumble over my curves like the moon
Encourage my glow to seek thy skin
With an eruption of goosebumps
Curl around my exposed knees
Bend until you’re wrapped so dearly close
Loosely drape sheets about your naked breast
Skirt my attention with tangles of your hair
Blow upon my fingers as you read about their days
Measure out the distance to the embers of my heart
Icy cold hands make your heart flutter flutter
Sip upon the brow of this thickly layered elixir
Put between your lips the essence from a kiss

Tree of Life (day 775)

I like the words tree of life
It weaves its way around my mind
Like a healthy vine
Working its way eagerly
Around any healthy hosts

I always picture it standing
In the middle of a field,
A marvelous spectacle out there
Silhouetted in the morning sun
Full plumage, healthy bird culture

I always feel at home
Under the tree of life
The grass is always greenest
Roots are always thickest
Qi is always fullest

A Poem For the Pretty Girl to Fly By (day 773)

It’s not long now before you go; wings spread open wide
Lifted from your feet and swept through blue skies aside
Over hills and deep ravines shall you soar a graceful glide
For all the while, as love and life be with you by your side
Gremlins and their evil minions will run away and hide
Leaving gone, far be gone, like retreating oceans tide
Oppressions game, an evil name, laid down to end it’s ride
And off and off, up, away, beyond, gone away it slide
Peace become up high so far, to life that’s open up so wide

As the Dagger Begins to Sink (day 772)

Don’t throw away my misery as if I’ve been kindly handling your manner for years
Respect it and covet it like a well worn lawn mower, hardly spewing black smoke
And dance around it with spears and face paint while chanting god-speek
Because if you, for one single moment, think the moon will set before the deed is done
Then you’re sadly mistaken, sadly believing in mystics and chimera
Barking at the moon fully loaded for bear with a hand down your trousers
While the children of the night roll around at your feet, stretching for answers
Into the pale night skies pockmark’d rivers of darkness
Don’t let me be, standing here against the cold wall of ancient growth alone and heavily breathing
Listening for forgotten sounds to ring alert, echoing in the night
A calming sensation growing up through my spine as anxious boils over into my thoughts
When the dagger begins to sink into it’s last goodbye