Once Upon the Holidays


When once we imagine spirit through eyes

of a child, we know love, we know delight

we can laugh and cry and never ask why

while love be beauty’s certain guide of light.

When once we wake to curiosity

life speculates the truth of childhood

younger people react with sanctity

that so much of their hopes be understood.

When once we breathe hot summer’s burdened age

where notions of confusion settle strong

to intermingle with that quiet rage

when naivete seems nigh to belong

When then in holiday we will reflect

is love, in value, oft as imperfect.

Killing Our Selves


Wake up to another morning in sunlight brilliance

look about a world of passion, beauty, resilience.


The news, what we read; our beautiful children too,

can we not forget the one hundred and thirty two,


kids, smiling faces with pure innocence abound,

they knew childlike pain, seeing upheaval all around,


their villages, their homeland, filled with a political strife,

suggested each one, each kind soul, compassion in life.


Yet, the saddest part of any mindless tragedy is the possibility,

the notion that what in future days held welcome opportunity


could be destroyed by the swift arm of pure evil mindset,

this hateful world must begin to leave us certainly upset,


Quell that apathy, and rise above our human monotony,

of believing the horrors are a globe apart, so far away.


In Pakistan, we stopped human life from exploring their dreams,

while across the bay in Cuba rhetoric said welcome to a regime,


In your home and ours, in everyone’s world the breathing slows,

in the elegance of natural cause, not striking down, insidious blows,


of torture … power is such a menacing tool so ill-met with malice,

we are all guilty of seeking ownership, claim of that sacred chalice.


Can we be a society, a nation, a planet of people perhaps that may cease,

to extinguish our hopes, our dreams, and wait, open our arms toward peace.

Ode to Holiday Blues – A Sonnet


Oh, when the pressure is on to be on

we wake into mornings of indecision.

Wondrous life are we being put upon

imagining peace to be our passion.

So many hearts and souls to care about,

where are new lines drawn, below or above

for ’tis the season to offer devout

compassion for those eyes that we may love.

Shower fearful worlds with material

that covets the take away society

until finally we may sleep restful

less caught in holiday anxiety.

For now see the blues and take a chance

to simply love and practice elegance

This Cave Inside My Mind – A Sonnet

There is an open field in that we lie,

basking in the clean air of denial.

Winds sweep our emotions. Wondering why

we settle in a cove, a sheltered soul.

Scream across glistening open meadows

feel the abrasive roots of harvest pull

upon our spirit, weak, human fear glows.

Waiting to ignite, with hopes we fulfill

real dreams reaching open grains to caress

the soil, the natural dirt being

that foundation, security, God bless

the ill of mind who hide in their dwelling.

While caverns exist to shadow sweet loss

Reach beyond our dreams, is our albatross.

The Gathering Mist – A Sonnet a Day


Shrouds veil our rise within the morning’s mist,

like pure raindrops suspended in cool air

we are reminded certain moments missed

will walk our day, must we believe it fair?

The mind, a wandering vessel of hope

battles sea worthy giants of despair

with each walk, we tangle a fierce strung rope

that clings to every fiber; hanging there.

We want to believe our hearts are so true

to love, to have compassion, a spirit

in happiness can achieve such sky blue

authority upon our angst’s regret.

With human dignity we walk in shrouds

of mediocrity whilst He sweeps clouds

This Morning Again – A Sonnet


A new lens, this similar waking day

suggests a rebirth, a gift of a chance

with rest to speak aloud again today

move forward, let yesterday be a glance.

Wait in those early moments, just reflect

upon the gifts, the treasures that await us

when morning sunlight emanates respect

immediate the world without fuss.

When soon we land, forward we imagine

a task, a need, to address each challenge,

a remarkable and fluid engine.

While waking wild our slumber’s release,

We speak, we challenge, a refreshing peace.

Live Long Lives – A Sonnet


We wait, anticipate a reckoning day,

while minutes and hours, sweet time and weeks

pass, lives breathe a continuum’s foray

descending into valleys, climbing peaks.

What is that which is out of our control?

Looms often, sweeps sweet, truth is, yes, at hand,

Our desire to know peace, beautiful

becomes lost in greedy needs we command.

When have we held the actual passion,

serene in love, humility’s magic.

Bearing down on ritual’s progression,

a constant, knowing life can be tragic.

Within the scope of mortality’s chance

Show glowing fervor, speak with elegance.