Wednesday, July 23, 2008


Posted by Picasa

Where are you?
Right there in front of me?
Or somewhere else
That I cannot see.

I speak, you respond
We hold conversation.

Is there in your eye
a fog, a haze
a shadow of far away
while mine are a'blaze

with longing
and adulation.

You look at me;
your look says yes.
yet I wonder if
I am more or less

a substitute
for someone unseen

Oh, you're there.
I can touch and feel
the only you I can have
and that's not real

The real you
is only in my dream.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


Posted by Picasa

For a long time my abode
was on a level plain
where round and round I strode
looking up and down again.

Wondering where I should go
and pondering where I'd been.
You'd think that I would know
the difference 'tween good and sin.

But down in the valley I went
to grovel in the muck.
To all appearences, hell bent,
and without any semblance of luck

Back to the plain once more,
a respite in the plan,
with happiness galore
and really being a man.

Only to slip and slide
with my eyes heavenward,
always up from where I abide,
as if I were a free-flying bird.

So, to the mountain my steps
took me from down below
and I rested from my attempts
to find a place to go.

But good things, it seems,
are not for me to gain,
except in my dreams,
down again, yet I retain...

the thought that it will come,
that day when once again
I will return where I come from,
Back to the Mountain.