An Easter Sunday Prayer

I would wish we might all love,

if only for the hours of this day,

turn to one another,

the fear we even imagine in doing so,

be put aside,

for we are all wanting to show effort

toward recognizing our own

sense of balance

in knowing

there is a special bond,

a reality,

a certain wanton risk perhaps

answered when

in unison


looking in each other’s eyes,

we might know love.

For I haven’t the foggiest notion

who wrote the book,

beyond the letters, the words,

the sayings, the famous and infamous remarks,

I haven’t any knowledge beyond

my own response,

my reaction,

my longing to understand

when humanity

might let themselves


upon the beauty of each other

without the urgency of reward,

oh then,

there might be grace in the certainty

of celebration,

for we are

one love,

we are



Happy Easter everyone! Please, peace!


I Wonder About Sundays

When as a child I would favor Sundays

Dressing up we would join our neighbors

I could wear skinny ties, look certain ways

Then feel the smiles, in the shaded ambers.


In speaking a loud, I was often heard

Felt a little wonderful to know my name

Kept inside a sacred chalice so absurd

Yet, every week I would surely play the game.


I wonder sometimes today about the peace of mind

So often spoken of, in God’s way they would say,

Even after weeks of sin, they’d let me remind

Myself, only me, I could walk with honesty today.


Oh to be the recipient of some sweet quiet release,

If on this another Sunday I may still find some peace.


Sunday Morning Ambience

Coffee nearby,

always seems a staple,

how we begin a new

state of mind.

We could recognize ourselves

as just part of the game,


there seem to be so many games afloat.

How do we choose,

the path,

when Frost spoke of least resistance,

how do we now return to his wall,

to decide just why we did

venture upon that side of the story,

argument, debate, cathartic

uprising in the mind.

Sit alone among the same,

sipping coffee,

a little tease of Guatemala,

here in my hometown,

where I can pretend,

by the click of simple keys,

I am going to take on a personal sojourn,

today is only one of many,

Sunday morning ambience,

leaves my soul with choice,

passion, desire, wants,

I want this today,

just let me figure it out on my own,

relax, sip, glance,

a sweet smile inside remains pensive,

those around need not know.

Morning Peace

I woke in peace,

before the dawn of my imagination

began again

to reel off the news,

I slumbered in my mind,

a new energy

encompassed me to remind

me of sunlight,

a symbolic gesture,

brighten my day,

begin again this way,

soft, move forward

allow any ideals safely

tucked away to ignite travel,

while laying still,

wealthy in a pool

of reflective incandescent hue

On Sunday Mornings


Simone Held

We all live in the certainty of time

wondering in dreamstates of life sublime.

A child would live Sunday mornings through You

Seeking answers in a gaze, sky streaked blue.

Might happiness just be attained like that

a conscious choice, an idioscyncrat –

Tick, a charmed ballet in life’s aftermath,

In autumn’s grace cleansed anew, without Wrath.

We are told, were, when we want, will, whether.

The storm brutal if not held together

by the seams tied within our sheltered soul

such spirituality keeps me whole.

In my ag-ed eyes, my learn-ed release

I do in the still … seek a Sunday’s peace.

That Sunday Charm


Hours tick by slowly

yet with rapid abandon.

We all get it,

that evening reaction.

Looming Mondays always get me down

I remember when she would sing

I was a kid

and I wondered about rainy days.

What did these Mondays mean?

I know tonight it speaks

to not wanting to wake up.

I seek a darkness that remains

I want to slip away inside

without having to face a new day.

And then it will happen as it always does,

I ponder, I grieve, I avoid, I aside, I smile

and the hour ticks by

I grieve, I ponder, I smile, I avoid, I step aside

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.