Other poems

From “SAE It Isn’t So”

 You both must decide which path to believe:

Details that destroy or feelings that bloom.

If feelings you choose, the details must leave;

If details you choose, ’tis your love you doom.


Her blue green eyes softly comfort my soul

Unabashed laughs come out in a burst

My body absorbs them and I feel whole

Peace, passion, and love all strive to be first.

Waves of beauty appear bright here and there

The longer I look the deeper I feel

My eyes and my heart have found ways to share

I see her beauty, I look but don’t steal.

Although I cannot be her beloved

Merrimac is a woman to be loved.


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Gray clouds softly engulf the moon

Darkness emerges from the night,

Croaks say the pond frogs will mate soon

Cool air pushes out the last light.


From bush to bush around the pond

The bullfrogs sing their ancient song,

They blast their throats and look to see

A red winged black bird in his tree.


From “At’l Be The Day”

It was going to rain all afternoon

Just to be forgotten by early eve,

When lovers walk under Fall’s golden moon

Creating kisses that make souls believe.


“By the Canal”

Warehouses line the canal

Facades perching lurching over the tree tops

Spring green leaves scatter bright light

White winged birds swoop through branches.

Over Herndon Pond

Canada geese coast

In the clear cool breeze.

Squawking, extending

Gray webbed feet flashing

Splashing, a shake of feathers free floating.

From a bough glimmering soft in the woods

The blue heron glides to the bank

Sleek, thin necked, white streaky

She statues in the sandy shoals.

Unafraid, more geese descend

The heron stands saber still until

Splash, chew, silence, statue.

Goose barking bounces

Through the gaggle

The green feathered mallards paddle to the side

A bark, a squawk

A goose darts up followed by the others.


The pattern lies beneath the snow

Buried pipes scar the pasture

A much parked spot shines brown

There, too chewn by a cow:

These reasons you know.

The shadow of a woodland elf

Bustles by, a moment out of phase,

A rustle from whispers

A blur beyond sound.

You read my pattern

See my reasons known and half-known

From man to animal to man.

You sigh when you see

The pasture hearth beneath the December moon,

Me howling like a solstice loon.