Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2018 · 163
When Seasons Pass
Blair Baker Dec 2018
I wonder if trees feel pain when asked to accept a season's passed?
Or if the path trodden with footprints side by side, grieves when only one returns.
Leaves drop, but I hear no crying.
Rain falls, but puddles call the children near.
I'd like to be a tree whose branches bend with the turning winds
Or the muddy trail full of splashy laughter and grins
But it's Winter and the wind of change cuts, icy blades, and my tender roots are battered and torn.
So I will wait until Spring arrives, and with her Hope.
She will dry my tears and shake off the dust.
Show me beauty I can love and trust.
She will fill my baskets to the rim.
And heal my heart deep within.
Apr 2018 · 60
Blair Baker Apr 2018
Home is a little word that conjures up a lot of feeling.
Songs have been written about it.
Sports teams play better there.
Great movies survive on there being no place like it.
It’s often sweet,
and a place where soldiers return.

Home is where we feel safe.
It might not be in a house;
It might be in a garden,
in a tree,
or a special spot tucked away,
like a desk where you read and write and dream.

Home can be in the voice of a friend who understands you
or in the arms of someone you love.
It can be in a book you read
or a song you hear,
and you say, “That’s how I feel too!”

Home can be a wet nose welcome from your favourite pet,
a place to relax,
feeling comfortable being you.
It’s not in all our treasures,
or where we’ve lived our whole life through.

Possessions can be broken,
Jobs take us overseas
So it’s always good to remember home does not reside in things.

It’s a special sort of belonging,
unique to everyone.
Some people have a lot of it,
and some people have none.
So be a home for someone.
Smile and make their day.
Make them feel welcome.
Tell them you’re glad they came to stay.
Share a hug.
Lend an ear.
Be hospitable
and of good cheer.

More precious than gold or silver,
home is something we can share.
Be a home for someone;
Show that someone cares.
By Blair Beaumont Baker
April 2018
Oct 2017 · 234
With a Friend Like This
Blair Baker Oct 2017
A friend came over, asked me how I was,
There was no time to answer, because
She told me what she thought.
So I acquiesced and fell into line,
Sang her the blues in 12 bar time.

I didn't know something was wrong with me
Thought it was only PMT
Or a case of fatigue.
But no apparently I’m depressed,
Need to be more like Jesus

Her diagnosis brought all my thanksgiving
As she scanned my life, judged all my living
She always knows better, and she tells me how.
Hope she comes again; I feel so much better now.
Nov 2016 · 197
Autumn Leaves
Blair Baker Nov 2016
Gifts from heaven,
the falling leaves.
A golden carpet,
as trees in gracious abandon
unfold in glorious display
a sunlit royal welcome.
Yellow bursts of amber
glistening dew-kissed
droplets of love.
Nov 2016 · 847
Mean Girls
Blair Baker Nov 2016
Mean girls wear the latest styles
Have fake smiles
Gossip, compare
Sow division, despair

Their gardens grow in shadowy places
Behind walls, in hidden spaces
Their nectar has a bitter taste
But flies are not discerning

They **** it in like drunks, cheap wine
Sour acid, their own sublime
Gluttons crying “More and more!”
Rise up in a pungent cloud
And acid rain comes pouring down.

The vile liquid which they spread--
Their sustenance, their daily bread—
On filthy lips, feeds new seed heads.

So their gardens will always grow,
Filled with thorns and jagged rows
And roots running and deep and long and strong,
In the dark, where they belong.
Nov 2014 · 2.2k
Blair Baker Nov 2014
Though life abounds with blossoms bright,
fed and watered, nurtured right;
And trees along the river bank,
strengthened so, display their might,
Saguaro, YOU surprise me most
and give the desert dwellers hope.

Alone, you stand in arid sands
without your roots in greener lands,
yet strong and tall and bright, command
my respect and awe.

Deep inside your prickly skin,
you've stored life's sunshine deep within;
Though scarce the raindrops from the sky,
you've captured each and treasured, "MY!"
If I could be like you, what heights I would achieve.
And revel in acceptance that, like you,
I'm planted right where I should be.
Nov 2014 · 478
Benefit of Doubt
Blair Baker Nov 2014
I’ll always think the best of you
I won’t assume the worst
No matter what the circumstance
No matter what the hurt.
Until I’ve walked a mile in your shoes
Until you’ve walked in mine
Jumping to conclusions in just a waste of time.

Rumours fly like butterflies
Landing gracefully
Bringing honey on their tender lips so innocently;
But until I’ve come to you my friend
And sought to understand,
I won’t believe a word they say because
Truth ain’t second-hand.

We observe but do not see
The possibilities.
We only see through coloured lenses of our own reality.
I don’t know what’s in your heart
You don’t know what’s in mine
So let’s leave the temptation
Of judging behind.

I didn’t mean to hurt you
What you read, wasn’t what I meant.
Words were taken out of the context
Of my heart’s intent.
So, come walk with me my friend.
Let’s try to talk it out
‘cause wouldn’t life be sweeter with the
Benefit of doubt?

The benefit of doubt my friend,
That’s what I’m giving you
The benefit of doubt
Can’t see it working any other way.
I actually wrote this as a song. :)
Nov 2014 · 196
Heart Paints
Blair Baker Nov 2014
There’s nothing I can say

You’ll just take it the wrong way.

It’s been like this since before we met

You determined who I was, and the mould was set.

I walked into your expectations,

The canvas prearranged,

Painted me in colours dark

Your heart the gauge.

Were the canvas fresh and clean,

Another artist might have seen

to let the paint fall where it might,

enjoy the image,

love-- chiarascuro’s light.

So think what you want

See the world through those eyes

I can’t do this anymore

Lord knows I’ve tried.

I’ve tried scratching off the layers you painted on that screen

I’m not that image you’ve painted of me,

But I realise now it’s in the artist’s hand;

His heart creates what’s on that stand.
Sep 2010 · 986
Her Beat, My Bow
Blair Baker Sep 2010
The bow is heavy in minor key
She is not here to hold or see
But all that she has meant to me
beats loud and clear and free,

In the rhythm of my life’s pace,
the looking glass reflects her face,
and though, see now this empty space,
resounding, the vibration shakes
and fills the album of my heart.

An album that has no end,
No limit of pages;
For boundless are our hopes and dreams
The things we stand for, the memories we create.

So, Mother, you are not gone
Your dreams and hopes and gifts live on
In the life of your daughter before you today
As I watch my children, hear the things they say
And when they ask
This album I’ll show
We’ll turn the pages,
And they will know.
Feb 2010 · 663
Reduced to a Box
Blair Baker Feb 2010
And now upon that pillow layAll that remains of the tragic dayReduced to a box,His ashes stay,Wrapped in a blanketGiven at birth.Will anyone know how much he was worth?I want the world to know!I remember--I remember well;So my sweet brother, your life I'll tell.Too hard to rememberThe loss so great,They swept all reminders of that terrible dayAnd even those that had come beforeThey just shut the door,As if you'd never been.Gone were the photosWhere are the toys?Can't we even remember the JOY!?I lay beside your boxBefore we take you to the seaFor now... you are here with me.Your scent deep inside this blanket sweetWill you stay, if I keep it neat,Or will you fade like memories?And now?Some days I'm shocked to see youWalking by on city streets--The grown man you could have been,Tall and handsome.Daily reminders come through my own two boys--Blonde and bright like you,And I hold them close.
Jan 2010 · 1.3k
Blair Baker Jan 2010
I’m a tube of toothpaste
With the bottom rolled up tight
And every last bit of peppermint’s
Squeezed out right.
Twisted, empty, crinkled,
Flat out on the windowsill
Minty fumes residual.
Jan 2010 · 696
Blair Baker Jan 2010
It’s just spackle.
Cracks start
And you keep cleaning it out
And filling it up
With new brands
But it cracks again
Because it’s just spackle
And so it’s gonna *****
Because the house shifts
When it rains
When it blows
In the sun
Nothing stays the same
So spackle cracks
And that hole
Needs filling.
I’m tired of brands;
Seems there ought to
Be a Carpenter
Who’ll fix the holes
For good.
Jan 2010 · 752
Winter Scene
Blair Baker Jan 2010
The Winter Fairy danced last night
Her Opalescence did alight
upon the trees, now shimmer bright--
in sunshine on the glitter white.

And sugar paper cut-out trees
Shower snow dust in the breeze
While children, snow up to their knees
Gather on the village Green.

And trod up hills through countryside
To find the fastest thrilling ride
While angels watch on the side lines
Transcendent stamps of winter time
Jan 2010 · 935
Blind Greed
Blair Baker Jan 2010
Bankers in their London coats
And Purple cords and Polo’s boast
That they’re worth all the bonuses
But what really bugs me is
How little grey matter it really takes
To shift around and play the stakes
And now they’re off ‘cause taxes hit
Their gilded storehouses, now the s---it
Has hit the fan
Mass exodus from the land
That gave them all the honey,
But what’d they do with all our funds!!?
Cocked it up, that’s what they’ve done!!
The whole world’s in a mess,
And I for one heartily confess
I’d like to see their shirt tails fly
Them right across the sky
Into Haiti,                                          
Open their eyes
See what all their money buys
Drown out all the childrens’ cries…
With seaside yachts and enterprise.

— The End —