Pastoral Views (day 2241)

Take me for a ride across
Sloping countryside
A river bend, pastoral views
Anglican church cemeteries.
Imagine if we could have
A baker’s dozen head of sheep
A flock to tame and feed with our
Four acre rolling range.
Our horses would be roaming, too
With healthy pasture grass
A good life for the lucky few
We’d ride bareback in play!
On Sunday’s we’d clamber over
Through the forest trail to
An ocean beach a short walk away
To laze about in deep rich red sand
In search of sea life washed up
Amusement for our childish minds
Every day till never end.
Then, towards the eve
We’d find our way
To our favourite perch where to
A book of tales would remind ourselves
How rich a life we do lead.

Rolling Circles (day 1580)

I am beginning to observe this once again,
One two three one two three one two three.
And your elegance makes my romance
Waltz as a leaf in autumn’s light breeze.

Let this hand be lead for thee,
One two three one two three one two three.
And my pen write again because
Circles rolling down these widening streets.

“Late,” said the bus to a leaning signpost,
One two three one two three one two three.
And if recollections could be the bumblebee
Sun would soak yellow into sands of our memory.

Lessons From A Dock (day 480)

In all the searching of the world
Be honest with your soul
Let the cool countenance
Of the end
Smooth your hearts desires

In all the roads that lead astray
Follow the path least traveled
Make the route that you take
On and away
The route that cheers your heart

Of all the steps that you take
Make the next one always count
Allow the guise of winter’s clarity
Deep in frost
Be far away from thine bane

In all the waters that clean your mood
Away be thy dust and grime
Mind the skin that soaks within
On the thumb
Be a warning of what is too long

Effort (day 28)

Gravitation like centrifugal force
Pulls its weight inward
Sinking ships and attracting comets
Similar to love; laws of attraction

Within this game of wheels and barriers
Around this ball of burning flame
Sinks the demon you’ve played again
Round and round and dig much deeper

The efforts there, aside the sticks
Counting pegs like cribbage pricks
Blowing out the energy within
This is the game; lead from within