You have lost faith in me,
I can see it in your eyes,
Hear it in the distance of
Your troubled voice,
Feel it in the loss of heat
In your touch.

You have lost faith in us,
And wander blankly
Amidst the days
Going through the motions
With no purpose
No passion
No hope.

May ******* them,
But they tell the truth.
The knowing whispers
The "I told you so "
The "We warned you"
You hear from every side-
From those I loved because
They loved you.

They are right
And I am wrong.
I took your life by
Slow degrees-
Destroying your life
By my very presence.
Subjecting you to a life
Of neverending toil
To simply stay a step ahead.

Your brightness has
Dimmed and fades
More with each
Passing day.

You do not deserve this
And never have.
My selfishness has done this
I cannot bear the thought of losing you
But I cannot do this-
I cannot destroy what
I love more than life itself.

The darkness
The possibility of
life without you
Now visible
And very real

At St John's church in the year of 1843
The priest Father O'Day couldn't rise off of his knees
The congregation did attempt to stand the man upright
Yet he'd not be relieved of this his stuck plight

Some in the congregation checked out in the back
Hoping against all hope that it wasn't that
But the sacramental wine was filled up to the brim
Which had them wonder further as to what was wrong with him

Like the sculpture of Mary Magdalene his position was set
Of the rigid state he'd never ever forget
All the alter boys offered prayers for a solution
Being quite disturbed by O'Day's poor kneeling elocution

Was this a trance or was he deep in prayer
Given over to the circumstance did it really matter
They called up Mother Superior to ask of her advice
As it was fish Friday, she said some other time

From out of the fathers prayer book a letter it did drop
The contents in it was not news that he could readily cop
A decrease in his annual stipend had on this day been proposed
On reading about it his knees quickly became indisposed

As he wondered how he would pay for his chalet in France
Or the expensive clothes he liked to wear to the local dance
Along with his butlers and half a dozen maids
In all of his high living never once did he think to save

A litany of poor monetary decisions had brought O'Day to his knees
No divine intervention would undo his futile freeze
Coveting the high-life on a paltry priestly wage
Would awaken him to a lesson of that more like a sage

Instead of falling into all man's sinful desires
He should have first consulted with his Higher Power
We all see it so plainly there's not much you can say
Except another valuable lesson learned from Father O'day

A swashbuckler
who sharpened
    his sword
upon unkind
     poetic words

Even at my age,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Languishing among towering clouds,
A lofty empire, lost kingdoms,
Perhaps a strange magical realm,
Thriving with dwarves and giants,
Maidens in towers awaiting rescue,
Where lone horse warriors wander,
Maybe observing us, far below.

Must be a poetic creative thing,
Or simply the child deep within,
Viewing through the eyes of the man,
Dreaming ancient days of long ago,
When the child yearned to be grown,
To know all there is to know,
Never appreciating escapism,
The chance to drift within time,
Ponder upon distant, aerial, worlds.

Or maybe I’m just a dreamer,
That and nothing more, hmm,
Telling myself, I am a poet,
A procrastinating creative spirit,
In love with the trappings of art,
The child asleep within wisdom,
Languishing among towering clouds,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Even at my age.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

When the glass runs out of sand
Gently guide me through the night
Sit by me and hold my hand
Be my comfort and my light

Gently guide me through the night
Let us chase the shadows down
Be my comfort and my light
Let me see you smile not frown

Let us chase the shadows down
Though I see your eyes do weep
Let me see you smile not frown
Until such time as we may sleep

Though I see your eyes do weep
Sit by me and hold my hand
Until such time as we may sleep
When the glass runs out of sand

Do you remember what you said that day
How terrible you felt inside
When all those clouds of disappointment
Blew into your lovely skies

Your life could not get any worse
To yourself you sadly said
Because your glorious sun no longer shone
While lightning crashed ahead

Your teardrops fell like rain that day
Unnoticed in the downpour
Torrential streams from the blackest skies
One had ever seen before

One day your sun returned to shine again
Winds of disappointment changed
Your flowing tears glowed into a radiant smile
As your life’s direction rearranged

Now here you stand, downcast once again
Black cloudy skies moving in
Never give up looking for that sun of yours
To shine through those clouds again

I tried to draw eyes
and much to my surprise the
eyes looked at me and cried!


©js/2014

A garden's promise
needs much attention daily
to fight evil weeds

Eyes of brown
Heart of gold
Sending love
I've been told.

Across the waves
between the vibes.
Written on paper
by the scribes.

Affairs of love in
history gone by.
Lover's seduced
by blink of eye.

Romeo and Juliet.
Cleopatra's Antony.
Guinevere and Lancelot.
And no less, you and me.

Loved and lusted
Sweet as wine.
Stories told
throughout time.

Love goes on
and on my dear.
Open your heart,
put away fear.

For love's soft vision
may well come.
When unsuspected,
your heart will thrum.