Your eyes in this moonlight
Keep reminding me of home.
Warm nights and a younger I
Filled with dreams
Absent far too long.
It’s hard to understand
How no one feels like you do,
No lucky card or future expressions.
Just diamond eyes and good luck charms,
Sweet smelling dew drops.
I still remember when we first met,
I’ll be going there tonight.
I remember how you came down
To lift my eyes like a sweet song
And you said: “No, no, don’t stay away long.”
Smokey bandages flutter through the evening sky.
An autumn sun burns the day’s light
Through whiskey breath and campfire.
Cooling breeze shelters the afflicted from blackened breath,
Dire, sister, dire.
Animals have no home, foraging between un-agreed upon lines of human traffic.
Chain link fences only survive through this madness.
Don’t shake wisdom apart again
Like you’ve been carrying it
Upon a heart so strong.
Like a canvas yet painted
This is a crime eating time.
And if emptiness enjoys a lie
So grass grows long in a mother’s worry,
Let the sunset cleanse the sky
And soothe you’re ancient mind tonight.
In yesterday there’s a tomorrow,
In an island there’s some fun,
As every eye is an open window
Let this song be an empty gun.
With skies and broken arrows
Memories will get me home,
And your heart can mend the worn beyond
Any measure of your mind.
And there’s still love
For the happiness remains;
Sunshine and my eyes.
Which I hold love.
And the grapevine
Tangling up my heart
Sends circles and circles
Spinning in to love.
And I call home
To happiness by name.
Where I feel love
Which is everything to remain.
I am flying above your most beautiful memory;
A tiptoe Tinkerbell tapping lightly.
[The old fir who never asked Mother
To learn what a life could really mean.]
Like a thought that followed a lazy bee
On an endless journey through paradise;
An earmark upon pages of a three quarter full diary.
[Wild leaves and sweet salmon-berries
Living in unquestionable synchronicity.]
Falling into subconscious memory;
Movement stepping towards a place,
A place feeling just like home does on Saturday morning.
[No forgotten apple weeps alone,
Returning to Mother in a final commitment of
Love, Energy, and all things unmentionable.]
I didn’t think I heard you right
Calling my name like a love bird
“Coo. Coo.”
My baited ear; bent.
But your eye, raised brow
Intrigued my senses,
Tingled my nerves, and
Shook my tailored cuff
Into a slow waltz,
A casual saunter.
Dimmed lights
And a smile that pulled
[Gravitational laws of attraction]
Which spit out the cork
And drank straight from the bottle
A blood red moon burned that night
As lovers made their way
Past steaming alleys.
Sleeping sidewalks glistening
In moonlit silence.
Clip-clop street talk with
Romance in a new nights air.
Forward to waking eyes,
Resting pants [still belted]
Carelessly draped over
A wooden powder-blue picket chair,
So tenderly close to that
Matching vanity with a mirror
Murmurs rustling through the sheets
[Down filled comforter]
And a familiar close to home
Written between
Those smiling lips,
But crying a hidden tear.
A soft memory.
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…
Röbert can be purchased here.
Snapping frustrations and beetle bug-off-alis
I’ve come to the end of my rope!
I’ve chewed all these trees
And felled a great home
Just to lose it all to a mouse!
The Mrs can’t stand it
Won’t sleep for a wink
With that vermin’s scratching work at night
Start over again?!?
This ones gone on so well!
I’ve even built us two tiny windows!
The Mrs, you know ladies
Loves the window for sunsets…
Front door’s been painted
Kitchen’s been reno’d
My shed! Five years, it’s nearly complete!
Oh, I’ll get that there mouse
I’ll find him at last
Even if it takes me straight to the grave
Mr. Figglehorns can be purchased here.
And in infinite bouts
Of unfounded glory
With sun shining down
Upon green grass
Where warm arms
Reaching up with love
Take little moments
Like powerful mother earth
Growing amongst
Spring flowers
Into space we call home
Where this is us
This is our all
And here, together
We are at the peak
Of life’s bounty
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