Walked I now upon concrete path in town, Crisscrossed here and there with poles of brown, Wires black, and stacks that belched like clowns; Buildings dark and squat gave good Earth an ugly frown; People passed, eyes avert, unsmiling, looking down; I felt no joy on the concrete path in town. Upon hard bench I sat, no music thrilled the air, No child’s laugh or … Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore, Part V
From windswept shore I climbed to rocky perch, Crowned like giant stairs to steepled church, Solid and immovable, no waver, without lurch; Pitching boat ‘mid rolling waves, fragile as the birch, I feared for frail men, how perilous the search; When calmed the wind, I climbed from rocky perch. Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore, Part IV
Away the wood, I walked on Granite Shore Pounding waves, like knuckles rapped upon a door Lobster boat, weather-worn in winds that tore And red-faced men, like fishermen of yore Whose raw ripped flesh labored evermore To work the sea that swept the granite shore Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore, Part III
I stopped to ponder my neighbor in green, Who, eyes near closed in dreamlike sheen, Lay ankles crossed and head on arm a’lean; He snorted, half asleep in his pastoral scene, Then snapped halfhearted at black fly on wing; I chuckled then and left my neighbor in green. Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore, Part II
I walked through a wood one summer’s day, Afternoon light dappled a forest glade; Lily pad in green-black pond and on it lay A frog whose languid croak appeared to say, As he scratched white belly in sun’s warm ray, I shall not move on this hot summer’s day. Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore, Part I
I cut a rose and placed it in a vase. The room became brighter and fresher. The sentence didn’t read right. A different word gave the story new meaning. A boy fell into an epileptic fit. Ignored, until another boy placed a stick between his teeth. The weight of the world breaks my heart. I push the dark away and bask in the warmth of … Continue reading Small Gestures
Writers Envy 