sidney-e-johnson
American
I love the use of words and the expression of thoughts on paper. The way in which we can shape our thoughts into a craft. / I am a man of little re-known and that is of little consequence if what i write is an inspiration to the reader. I was born in a small town in Michigan in 1953 and grew up in the 50's and 60's to be a man. Later I met and married my wife of 26 years and raised three daughters of whom I am extremely proud. My wish is to leave a legacy of my writings to the world, but if not i shall have lived a good and Godly life and lit a few candles to burn in my absence.
Who passed the night with silent pining?
A face hidden from moonlit sight,
Twas I the hunter said at last and sighed,
My only prey has taken flight.
She fled into the brambled thrall,
I ne'er but glimpsed her pale white face,
And since that night I've wept within this wood,
'Tis become my solitary place.
My quiver lost its missles long ago,
This sacred bow remains unstrung,
The cold now creeps like moss on trees,
And her song is yet to be sung.
My hair is white my face is grey,
These peircing eyes now dim,
I sometime catch her gentle scent,
Perhaps its just my foolish whim.
But O' that once and once again to hunt,
Her wiles seducing all my heart,
And I pursuing yet pursued by love,
Once again to draw the soul apart.
By S. E. Johnson copyright 2012
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
A close and crowded world I find,
And all its citizens are blind,
They only see a single face,
Their own that occupies this place.
No other person can they see,
No stranger stranded, even me,
Beyond the darkness of each hedge,
They share no creed they give no pledge.
A box I hold within my hand,
Brought thoughtfully into this land,
And 'neath its lid a shimmering pool,
Where searchers find a sacred rule,
Put others first reflected plain,
Learn their face and yes, their name,
For every face is meant to be read,
The living first and then the dead.
Alas, a few peered 'neath the lid,
While others eyes remained well hid,
So slowly closed I my precious cask,
And none there were who cared to ask.
Where did you find this magic box,
And has it not some chains and locks,
To keep inside such treasure horde,
Such wealth is more than we can afford.
A close and crowded world I found,
And all its citizens were bound,
They only saw a single face,
Their own within an empty place.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:54 PM UTC
I mended my nets and cast them out,
The sea was full of fishes,
I pulled in a drought of silver fins,
Beyond my fondest wishes.
Had I not mended my wounded nets,
To home I might have come bare,
My children would go to bed hungry,
And my wife would say a prayer.
How wisely did I use my time,
Though some may think it odd,
That an old and weary fisherman,
Would listen to his God.
For twas He who bid me take the time,
To sew the broken line,
And He who sent the drought of fish,
Would send to me this sign.
My mended nets will yield me strength,
As God gives great increase,
And now I know how mercy works,
Which gives this old fisherman peace.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:51 PM UTC
I am counted as grass,
The leaf on the bough,
the scattering of seeds,
The earth and the plow.
The Lord of our years
The siphon of time,
has counted out days,
Both yours and mine.
My fields has he set,
with a swiftness of flame,
ashes to ashes,
And nothing the same.
Is enough but a number,
the counting of days,
The Lord of the harvest
a man justly obeys.
The shell is now empty,
his skin but a rag,
I pass by the grave,
its marked by a flag.
The Lord of our years
a master of age,
Has doled out his judgment,
and given his wage.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:48 PM UTC
I died and lay within the dust,
Ages passed as ages must,
When eons ceased I woke anew,
And brought my visions back to you.
I told you of the endless rains,
Across the endless barren plains,
Once long ago the earth was new,
Its ancient days I spoke to you.
Wide eyed in death I saw the sun,
Until I was the only one,
The world became another land,
I held its dust within my hand.
The circle of my timely death,
Breath upon my fetid breath,
Silent there transposed my fast,
The end of time had come at last.
I died again for moments then,
Dreamed of shadows and of men,
Ages come as ages do,
Yet every word I spoke is true.
Everything that man had done,
Into the finite dust was spun,
And on and on I repose in state,
Returning here my endless fate.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:45 PM UTC
I fell to earth I know not why,
But somewhere once I knew the sky,
I knew the sky and knew it well,
But that was long before I fell.
The place I knew was velvet black,
And if I could I would go back,
To where I once was like a star,
I would go back but its too far.
Today I'm just a shiny stone,
Upon the shore and all alone,
All alone and shiny bright,
A stone to catch the evening light.
From where I fell above the sky,
I see the trailing comets fly,
The countless stars, the velvet night,
And I a stone to catch the light.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 3:42 PM UTC
There are no days too dark,
Light cannot filter through,
When its too hard to face the truth,
Behind the clouds the sky is blue.
When tears are all you know,
You can always wipe them dry,
They will not last forever,
The storm will soon pass by.
When life's music is a sad lament,
The words are too hard to sing,
There's a melody that resonates,
When plucked upon each string.
When all the "whys" go unanswered,
You can always ask the "whens",
As the curtains open wide for you,
And you've said your last amens.
In the stillness of your solitude,
You are never all alone,
When you've tossed upon your bed,
And your pillow is a stone.
There's a reason for the moment,
There's a candle for the dark,
There's a fountain for the thirsty,
And a page to leave your mark.
The cold and weary feeling,
Will give way to peace and rest,
At the crossing of the narrows,
And the final human test.
To stand and breathe the sweetness,
Will reward the vigilant soul,
At the passing of the torches,
When the lost have reached the goal.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
Dear and gentle friends
May I speak of life and hope?
Of what I wish for you,
That in this life you each may cope.
Your faces come to me at night
When I would seek my rest,
Tis then I ponder all our goodness
And wish for you the best.
The solitary moments of regret,
My words oft left unsaid,
When I should have spoken candidly
Of those who now are dead.
Life briefness goes unnoticed
And silence is a thief,
As tears are brushed away from eyes
And none can find relief.
O' Tender hearts and dearest souls,
Let not one day go by,
Without the time of friends embraced
For too quickly we may die.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 4:22 PM UTC
Bend the knees of my heart to the earth,
To the cold and frozen ground,
Let the fetters of memories war,
Finally be broken and unbound.
Were all the loves that once were lost,
Be cast into the sea,
Should roll upon the shores of souls,
Every flotsam and debris.
T'would not forestall the endless curse,
Of lost and lonely years,
Nor blot the stain on velum page,
Of all the cruel tears.
Bend the knees of my heart to the earth,
Let me weep 'til the sun shall rise,
If perchance t'would wash my soul,
And cleanse my burning eyes.
Nay I fear the deed is done,
We cannot mask the soul,
Nor scrape the blood from off the stone,
And make the mourner whole.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 4:09 PM UTC
Full in the wake of winter we stood,
In the face of impossible odds,
The frost of our fury was froth on our breath,
To these mortals we were as gods.
Come then and let it be in winter,
Full in the rage of the storm,
We shall be waiting to send you to hell,
It is there you will only be warm.
We are the children of winter,
The frozen wastes they are ours,
Where metal rusts and flesh is hoary,
You cannot defeat these powers.
Come winter we shall bare our teeth,
Neath the cloak of autumn's leaf,
Press hard the long coats in the trench,
And give them no relief.
He shall sally forth out of the north,
With an icy wind that's raw,
Then in his wake the spring shall break,
And with it the hope of thaw.
Yet in every muddy trench a fetid smell,
From the cold and bloated dead,
Our hand has dealt the blow of frost,
And the enemy's courage is fled.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 4:07 PM UTC