I'm No Painter

I am no painter, nor photographer,

Brush strokes seldom strike what words can.

When a painting of a tree is nothing other,

I can show what you cannot see but understand,

A mother, spreading her children through the world,

A sentinel of time, the elder of shade,

The home to many furry animals curled.

To the stars it reaches, in heaven’s whisper, wades.    

Barricades to the cities, on cliffs above beaches,

A phoenix of seasons only human can hinder.

A memorial to the lovers’ eternal preaches.

Leaves painted yellow, orange, and fresh cinder.

To paint a tree on paper could not be plainer,

But to paint the mind! But alas I’m no painter.   

Goldfish

 A stroll in the park, how wonderfully mundane, the concrete path cracked and speckled with pebbles, blades of grass poking through. The lush trees danced in the autumn breeze with birds singing their twilight tune. Squirrels ran and jumped collecting summer’s last fruits and nuts, stowing them in the fertile soil for the winter. Red rosebushes climbed the wooden branches, while silent strangers sit and read their books or eat their dinner. In the distance a boy plays with his golden retriever, the Frisbee glides through the air floating on the breeze it reflects the pink and purple of the approaching night. The retriever jumps snatching the disk out of the air and with it in his maw, prances back to his boy who is kneeling with open arms. A woman with headphones on jogs past me, her red shorts swishing, and the faint smell of perfume kisses my lips and tickles my nostrils. I quicken my step because the sun is starting to get lower, mosquitoes buzz around a pond to my left, it is adorned with grey and black stones, some round and some jagged, I spot a few goldfish from where I walk, their fins lazily propelling through the water rippling the top of the pond. I look up at the clouds; they're gracefully gallivanting through the sky. My feet slowly come to a stop, the breeze rustles my hair, and my eyelids close around my cherry wood eyes. My legs tense, I jump like the retriever did, like the Frisbee I rise into the sky. Higher and higher steadily I get closer to those fluffed white pillows. Like the leaves on the trees my clothes ripple and sway as I climb above the clouds. Like the fish in the pond I swim above the earth. A sense of harmony befalls me as I glide into the horizon. I look up, the pale glow of countless stars look back down at me, now I’m going straight up, faster and faster, a dart headed for the bulls eye, I’ll never stop climbing tonight.      

Neverland

Call all of the lost boys I’m leaving Neverland,

I’m packing away my toys, and my stories,

Leaving them for recollection down the road.

Farewell! Farewell, for you cannot join me past the folds

Of time. Leave you in the rhyme, I must, I must

Dust you off when I’m old and yearning.

Gone are the days when we watched the dinosaurs

Float through the sky. Gone are mermaids, talking cars,

The genie, his lamp, and dreams of conquering mars.

 I must take my place as Atlas, and there is no room for bliss.

My bags are packed. My feet are ready. No time for a goodbye kiss

Piglet, I must be off. But soon I find,

On the edge of 100 Acre I realize I haven’t a clue!

Because my heart is a big jar of honey, filled up just for Pooh.

Because I wish I had three wishes, all of them to stay with you.

Farewell to the others who lives will be bland,

Call all of the Lost Boys I’m never leaving Neverland!