Wednesday, November 11, 2015

If I were invincible...

If I were invincible
I'd visit a terrorist camp

I would bring music
Happy music
Feel good music

Music that makes your cells

And while the music played
I would dance

Right there
In the middle of the training base

The true militants would be angry
Very angry
They would try to riddle my body with lead

But since I am invincible
No lead can harm me

And I dance
And I smile
And with my eyes
And with my hands
And with my body
I invite others

Won't you come dance, too?

Some militants
Who aren't really militants
But rather doubters
Slowly join in

And they dance
And they smile

And the true militants get angry
Very angry
And they try to riddle the doubters' bodies with lead

But since the doubters are dancing
They too are invincible
No lead can harm them

If I were invincible
That is what I would do

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Three Miles South of The Saddle

O Wind of the hills!

ambling through naked trees

take my cares
let them ride Your waves
dispense them into tiny worlds
so they know their smallness
in the vast expanse

transform them
narrow to wide
let them feel the rain
to become ice crystals
on display
creating every color of the bow
hope for eyes to see

O Wind!

power that transcends
the essence of our matters

january 23, 2oo9


It was a winter's day.
Cold. Windy. Ice crystals in the air.
As I stood beside my vehicle parked on the side of the Blue Ridge Parkway, three miles south of The Saddle.
I had to stop there because the Parkway was closed at that point. Ice and snow were on the road north.

The wind is forever blowing across Saddle's ridge.

Other poems composed while upon The Saddle...

Thursday, June 11, 2015

I spy...

Blue birds
Indigo buntings

Adolescent blackberries
Still red
Bees buzz
Creek gurgles

Horses trot
Paint in the lead
Human hollers 'cross the pasture
Hand rings the dinner bell 

Singing out loud
I sway back and forth

Sailing on two tires
Guided by handlebars

Breeze glides by
Invisible air-wakes
No cars allowed on
The Greenway

Lush green thrives 
On either side of blacktop
Nature sings back
I drink in the scenery

'Round the bend I spy
A new addition along the path
The Little Free Library
Wooden bench by the creek

I smile
I spread each palm
And pull the brake levers

Flush with the handle grips

Tap, tap snapshots
Sit on the bench
Smile again

Life ain't too bad in the city

Little Free Library along Muddy Creek

Parade of turkeys