I once gave somebody a beautiful gift
A life changing treasure to keep
Given with love and no little risk
I hoped I had saved someone’s life

I honored that feeling for all of these years
My own little heroic glow
Something of value was given to her
And I owned a small part of the prize

I didn’t bird-dog the rest of her life
I set her free to evolve
Hoping that she would make use of her gift
To better the world that we live in

So many years have passed since that day
So many miles have we traveled
Such sudden sorrow to learn of her death
And the waste of the gift that I gave her

I do not know if her life was good
Did she go in the wrong direction
Did fate beat her up - give her no place to hide
Except in the depths of a bottle.

Not even fifty - so much more to live
I wonder what ravage befell her
That knocked her so low that her only hope
Was the path that led to the tavern

She left behind a beautiful dog
That she’d rescued as I once did her
She left me with a different grief
For a girl and a gift not unwrapped
ljm

The blue lights will again split the sky
Though not without a battle.
The names will once again be read
But by voices on recordings.

The lingering pain, now aged nineteen,
Has not been killed by any virus.
It lives on in a thousand hearts
With no choice but ro grieve alone.

The flags are hung just half mast high
The marching bands are silent
The media is reticent
To add to the depression.

Memorials are quarantined
No gatherings allowed
But love and memories abide
In every heart this date has touched.
ljm

Her writing tells the fateful truth:
Strings of letters that don’t make words
In a language no one ever learned,
So small as to look like microdots.

The hand that holds the reluctant pen
Feels normal til it tries to write,
And finds it doesn’t know the words
That are painfully born on the paper.

Practice only makes it worse
As disconnected muscles try
To learn again to make an A
And how the letters go together.

Her hand is weak and clumsy
The arm and leg feel heavy
Nothing does as it is told
By a brain now somewhat broken.

Back in second grade again
She practices her penmanship
And rows and rows of numbers
In hopes of graduation day.
ljm

I ran into my British friend the other day and asked
what he and his wife had been doing lately.  
He replied “meander went to the cinema last night.”
ljm

Another harangue from the White House:
“Only what I say is true
What’s written up in the papers
Was published by those skewing blue”

You can’t believe a word they say-
These guys with intelligent brains
Who insist on only spouting facts
Instead of the truth of my claims”

“So listen to only what I say to you -
Don’t bother to read the fake news
I am the Lord of the Universe
So you must agree with my views”
ljm

Fictitious love was all you had
You offered it like it was gold
But it turned green in my warm hands
And all my happiness turned sad
It wouldn't do much good to scold
For not becoming wedding bands

I search for the daffodils and only find the brambles       
I listen for the music and only hear the traffic
I reach for little prizes and get my fingers slapped
I memorize the words but they won’t let me sing them

I batter at these stone-clad walls but I cannot break through them
The ladder that I built fell short when I ran out of lumber
I found the only way around them ended in forever
So with this teaspoon I must dig until I have a tunnel.
ljm

Water’s running down the curb
Someone’s sprinkler head has failed
Shall I take my normal route
Or follow and see where it ends
Silly question - Off I go
I don’t often walk this street
It rises steeply at the top
The stream comes from much further up
But I’m determined to see where...
Oh! What’s that by the puddle there -
A tiny little humming bird
Darting just above the flow
I stop to watch - this is a treat
The tiny thing with atomic wings
Hovers here and there
Than lands at water’s edge
It’s only centimeters deep
But to him it is a river
At last he settles in the stream and drinks
His needle beak darts in and out
He doesn’t know I’m watching him
Entranced
And now he dips his wings and head
And fluffs his feathers in the morning air
Giddy as a toddler in a splash pool
It feels so good
He does the same thing two more times
While I stand stock still, transfixed
At last, refreshed and clean, he  launches
Into the heart of a nearby tree
And disappears from view
I can’t see him any more
So I move on -

The broken sprinkler still calls me
I find it only two doors up
A geyser by the driveway
Burbling up their water bill
The homeowners likely still asleep
In this very early morning hour
I don’t know the residents
So I don’t go knock on their door
I’m sure they’ll see it soon enough
And shut the water off
It’s blazing hot but I feel cool
Walking along the little stream
That’s running down a street
Called Rippling Springs - how appropriate
Each morning walk is a different gift
As I make this new place into my home
But spying on a humming bird
In the comfort of his morning bath
Is a treasure that’s above the rest
                     ljm

How can you be so ridiculous
As to tell me I’m pediculous.
You must admit it’s not real nice
To tell a friend he’s full of lice
                             ljm

The mask I wear
Says I am OK
That everything is perfect

The song I sing
Says I feel fine -
My body isn’t failing

The words I write
Are mostly lies
Of better times tomorrow

The wand I wave
To change the world
Was purchased at a dime store

The flag I raise
To greet the day
Is hanging upside down
ljm

Darkness swirls like smoke
From a stirred up campfire
Memories burn bright and falter
Snapping in the chilly air
With crackles that resemble laughter
The sun, a memory of yesterday
Shines in other distant places
Where hollyhocks grow tall
And lilacs scent the morning air
Midnight is an all day thing
Purchased with a credit card
That never makes a payment
And notices come postage due
Gloom is a song with seven verses
And many voices in the choir
All with past due statements
The Piper is standing at the door
With outstretched hand and waiting
The cupboard usually is bare
And there’s no chicken in the ***
The candle doesn’t make much light
And sunset comes at noon
The darkness swirls like smoke
ljm

Years of knowing I wasn’t wanted
Have poisoned the tenderest
Portions of my soul.

Butterflies have become moths
And the music is always out of tune.

The sunset is an ugly smear
And sunrise holds no promise.

Flowers do not yield perfume
And all the birds are Ravens.

Words that used to comfort me
Now echo back in hateful tones

I tell myself there is a light
And try hard to believe it.

But it’s illusive and it fades
Each time I think I see it.

Wanting to be wanted
Turns out to be a foolish game.

How can anybody want me
When I don’t even want myself.
ljm

If Jack the Ripper lived in OZ
He'd have a double name
He'd be   "That Ripper Jack the Ripper"
He was very good at what he did.
                                   ljm

You wear a flowing satin cape
Lined with brightest red
Your top hat is not really hollow
No matter what you said

You said it’s truly magic
You think we are insane
You do a little slight of hand
And call it legerdemain

But I suspect a shyster
Is hiding in that cloak
So I won’t choose a walnut
I don’t want to end up broke.

No matter how they switch around
The pea is never there
It doesn’t matter what you choose
You miss it by a hair.  

Most magic is a sucker’s game
That we all gladly play
The hand IS faster than the eye
It has to be that way.
ljm

In a life where malaise
Is the word of the hour and
Rules what the day will become,
I wander from this irritation
To that unknown grumble
And wonder why I feel so bad.
My need to keep going
Is fed by the longing
To see what’s ten years down the road.
         ljm

I love and honor each comment that is offered after one of my writes is posted.
Lately I haven't seen a fair number of comments until days later, after I  click on the name of my  poem as listed with someone else's comment.  I don't know if it's the HP site or my ancient Mac (Soon to be former Mac) that is causing it, but it annoys and embarrasses me.
I just want to let it be known that I respond to all comments that I read, and if there Is no response from me, you know I somehow didn't see your poem or your comment.
  ljm

Some feel they are impervious;
That they alone can flout the rules
And go in crowds to crowded places,
Yelling epithets at any who complain.
How foolish is it possible for them to be -
Once they pick it up, they take it to their aged
Mother who doesn’t wash her hands so well. Soon
Everybody in the house is sick - and one will die. For what?
                                  ljm

Acrostic

1.  Funny how reality is easy to disguise
     In the hours of sun and busyness
     But it lights up like a neon glow
     In the minutes before dawning.

2.  Fairy tales and other fancies
     Float just out of reach and vision.
     As the sound of hammers down the street
     Drown out the song of morning blackbirds.

3.  There are Pansies with their velvet mein
     Growing somewhere out of sight
     But wishing will not bring them near
     Nor will it make the desert bloom.
                     ljm

Acknowledged as a beauty
In her youth, with a trim
Little figure that
Slowed the traffic
It did not stop,
She sailed through
Forty years
Like a butterfly.

The luster
Started fading
From her wings,
And oh so slowly
She became a moth,
Ever circling in closer
For bit more of the light.
ljm

Drowning in disappointment
Covered by dark waves of grief
Searching in vain for some happy
Wondering who was the thief

Aching to find validation
Betrayal the meal of the day
Longing to find some approval
Not knowing who stole it away

Clawing my way to each summit
Ignoring the cuts to my soul
Determined to climb every mountain
In hopes of at last being whole
                     ljm

I search for the daffodils and only find the brambles       
I listen for the music and only hear the traffic
I reach for little prizes and get my fingers slapped
I memorize the words but they won’t let me sing them

I batter at these stone clad walls but I cannot break through them
The ladder that I built fell short when I ran out of lumber
I found the only way around them ended in forever
So with this teaspoon I must dig until I have a tunnel.
ljm

There are things I must not think about
For if I do, I will hear the rumble
Of a Tsunami coming and
I’ll be swept away in a churning wash
Of memory and regret.

There are words I must not ever hear
They’ll cut me to the bottom of my core
And scissor open wounds no
Surgeon could stitch up again

There are photos I must never see
Of a happiness I can not share
And if I look, I’ll crumble into ashes.

There are places I can never go
For if I do it all will end.

And everything will have been for nothing.
ljm

If you don’t want the entire U.S.
To suddenly erupt in volcanic flames
You convict those four evil cops
And chain them to a rock pile
In the hostile Nevada desert
Til they have made enough small gravel
To pay for every bit of damage
This country and its people suffered
So they could take a black man’s life.
ljm

The way was steep and rocky
A cliff on one side and a drop on the other.
I had not worn my hiking boots,
They were too old and broken down
And I could not afford new ones.  
My flimsy little tennis shoes
Felt every stone and crevice.

The wind was colder than I thought
Against my light-weight summer jacket.
I had no mittens for my hands
So I kept them in my pockets.

The sun was out when I began
The air was warm and the wind was calm.
The path was smooth and leveled out
With lovely vistas to be had.
I strolled along among a crowd
Of friendly, cheerful people
Until the path began to rise
More steeply than the posters showed,
And folks began to drop out one-by-one,
Not willing to surmount the rocks
That cropped up in the winding way.

I had a need to see the top
So I kept taking one more step
And one more breath of mountain air.
Cheerfulness grew difficult
As bigger boulders blocked the path.
But there was always a way around,
Although the footing was unsure.

I once looked over the drop on my left
And was gripped by paralyzing fear;
But I feared more to end my quest

My feet were sore, my hands were cold;
My nose was red and running.
But I could see the banner at the top
And my name was written on it.
Suddenly I was not alone
And I was not a failure.
I did what others could not do
And did it on a shoestring.
I had no fancy gear or help.
I climbed that mountain on my own;
So don’t tell me what I can’t do.
ljm

Piles of grass on a new mown lawn
Sweet perfume of summer

Flowers blooming through sidewalk cracks
Promises of hope eternal

Flocks of birds in the evening sky
Time to put the reaper down

Laughter from a distant place
Joy that may be borrowed

Smell of cookies newly baked
Proof that love is manifest
ljm

I couldn’t become June Cleaver for you.
You couldn’t be Marcia Brady for me.
I tried to put that apron on
And learn to make a *** roast, but
You took a grudge and nourished it
And watched it thrive for 30 years
While I turned into a withered husk
In the desert of lost affection.

I wanted to be your special friend -
Your one safe place in a tempest.
I built strong walls and a comforting fire
You never set foot past the doorway.
The welcome mat was never pulled in
And a small light was always burning
But you were lost in a different place
And wouldn’t let me try to find you.
ljm