Habitat (day 2692)

I hope that I have not become
A garden of your worry
As lost have I found myself
To most of what was once
Have left the tool for another spade
A new life on the rise
Here I toil, finding myself
Dotted with more depth, more dirt
More truth to become with you
A fruit that groans
As seasons play upon our habitat

Megalith (day 1960)

I could write out the sounds of a thousand butterflies,
Or hooves of ten blazing stallions;
I could impress the weight of three falling leaves,
Or hardness of one megalith;
I could fall to your feet in Roman respect,
Or your arrow you’ve sent on the run;
I could find every fruit in the garden of Autumn,
Or a reason to look far away;
I could let a simple dream drift off like a wish
But I’ll never let your heart away.

Memories Walk (day 1867)

I think a stranger walks away
Knowing from all a little more
Every time he steps outside
And leaves behind his mopped floor.
I think a parent walks towards
The object of themselves
To feel attachment in everything,
Mind, body, spirit, and soul.
I think a lover pulls towards
Sweet nectar of every fruit
To behold grace, to sweetly ignite,
Set fire to burn the loot.
I think a friend never knows
What brings them back again,
And if they do, they’re surely reckless
For nothing stays as memory remains.

Once Again, In Bloom (day 1806)

As seed took its flight
From the palm of my hand
I felt a cloud
Receding from my heart,
Deep as I remain.
I knew what had been
Had come again to us
Not to tarry as long
But definitely sent
To help us on our way.
If you dared close your eyes
And listen to early summer breeze
There was, singing sweetly,
An apparition to remain.

Can you call me one more time
Like so many times before?
Can you share your wisdom
To help my youthful pride?

If I should waste another breath
I shall not hold my stride
That you so valiantly kept,
Like gale force winds
And secret glimchens
Upon your heart so clear.
Like every day that’s come again
You brought your soul divine
To bask in changing season
That always stopped to overtake.
You recognized that as a robin comes
A sparrow and bluejay shall too,
You knew that purple pansies grew
As humming bird feeders drew.

Your wind called out where we all heard,
Your wind amidst our sails,
Your peach upon our fruit trees,
Forever once again, in bloom.

Pull My Arrow (day 1737)

I travel to lonely points of inactivity;
Challenge even the iron hearts,
Let my fruit fall all about me here
And lose my heart to a beating drum.
I crawl down to the setting sun;
Steep slope and I’m bleeding mom,
Hands gnarled, so let me gently down
Back to my cold and lonely ground.
I’ve swept out the tangled mess;
Chilling webs of my sweet duress,
If an Angel should come right now
Pull my arrow to shoot her down.

Pull My Arrow by Ned Tobin

At the Grocer (day 1267)

It’s easy to fall in love at the grocer,
All of those melons and apricots,
And loose leaf teas.

I’ve actually smelled love
As I walked by the slow roasted coffee beans
They had especially imported from Argentina.

I’ve met a lover as I perused the cereal isle
Searching for a wheat free granola,
Lamenting at the fact they only had Cheerios and Fruit Loops.

I’ve yet to make love at the grocer though,
Carnal instincts among blueberries and yams.
I’ve almost been there,
Sitting amongst my pillows and a lover,
Nibbling on strawberries and freshly cut cheese on rice crackers.

Gaia’s Birth (day 1066)

And you crawl out
To where we sing.
To which we carry high
Lofty goals,
Lifting our honour
With romantically inclined love,
Like sweet mother Gaia
Discarding Winter’s white cloak
To dawn
Spring’s rainbow.

I cannot follow my empty thoughts
Through the havens of a darkened loft.
I live forever better
With your heart upon my hearth,
Warming every thought
As darknesses cold, cold moon
Falls asleep to Gaia’s waking sun;
Sweet nectar caress.
Alive like our emotion
Captured in long walks
Through Spring’s blooming alleys.
A landscape ere enliven.

Like sweet hanging fruit
– Summer’s lush temptation –
This lover’s ever clutch.
Anxious for turning seasons
As the fresh air soaks my dewy brow.
Can you not also give to great excitement?
I laugh and run wild a while,
For what is satisfaction
Void a lover’s yearning heart?
What worth is Summer
Dry from Spring’s never drought.

It’s a Struggle (day 833)

The soul of a man was never here
There was never a judgement day
The seas never parted for sanctity
No dove soared over these skies

There was no path along the way
No dotted map mapped out
The road was never straight
And the going was never easy

I was never taught vowels to speak
Never held to stop the fall
My cuts were never cleaned
No wounds have ever healed

No grapes have ever grown here
The sky has never rained
Carrots have always stunted
No fruit truck ever stopped

There has never been love here
No kind touch from a woman’s hand
No laughter has ever sung here
No peace has ever been found

A Free Soldier (day 654)

A lost soldier makes his way home
Elsewhere, grenades go off in combat
Where trenches are dug deep into earth
Casually the soldier wanders home
Through orchards full of fresh fruit
Through rolling country hills
And friendly strangers minding
Their own important business
Along double track dirt roads
Fields of flowers for napping carelessly
And picking, one hangs loose about his shirt pocket
Heavy combat coat flung freely about his shoulder
Fresh cut grass sends over the valley
A smell so potent and refreshing
Even the young birds come stay for a visit
Enjoying the new horizons created
By the arching suns daily pattern
Carrying it’s essence onward
Into the mind of the young soldier
Making his way home away from battle
In peace so strong a hand from nowhere reaches out
And assures him that all will be right
And walks him onward, into the light