Blue the mountains
holding close in view
sacred smoke of yesterdays
blue fog shrouded trails
beneath the rhododendron

falls of sweet blue water
replenishing the rivers
sapphire lakes reflecting
splendor of the bluest hills
above the peaceful valley

hear the sacred music
of the blue ridge mountains
magic in the songs of old
forever blue my appalachia
blue the hills I used to roam.

r ~ 7/4/14

Neil Young singing now-
  you are like a hurricane
  there's calm in your eyes

r ~ 7/3/14

Lazy seems the sun today
helped aloft
by a flight of pelicans
in formation
like B-52s returning
to safe haven
after a sortie
Inland they go
with the gulls
during this calm
before the storm
The smell of a slowly swelling
angry sea awakened
drowning out the roses
by the garden path
soon to be scattered petals
across the village
The morning calm
belies the night
to come.

r ~ 7/3/14

Shiny black spit-shined shoes
on the walk
in the Memorial Gardens
hurt my feet
to look at their stiffness
and his swollen ankles
in them.
His worn and creased pants
too short, belt buckle aligned
dress-right-dress
with the button fold of his shirt.
He wore
an old faded USMC campaign hat
pulled down
almost to his white eyebrows.
Almost comically.
I pitied him
in the way we sometimes do
the old who mumble,
never knowing
just who they are talking to.
I heard Inchon mentioned,
and Chosin a time or two,
and every time he said Puller knew,
yeah, Chesty knew.
I quit taking my lunch
with a book in the Garden
when he stopped coming around
and after I saw his picture
in the obituaries
with a description of how he won
his Silver Star and two Purple Hearts;
wishing now I had listened closer.
More’s the pity
I never spoke to him.

r ~ 6/27/14

Pull up a chair
and rest a spell.
In your glance
I can see a tell.
Your heart is not here
when he's in town.
Your home fire
is burning down.

Come sit,
let's talk awhile.
I won't ask you
for a smile.
Here, now,
just take my hand.
Let us watch the sun
sink into the sand.

It is getting cold,
but the night is young.
There's still a fire in me
that has not been sung.
We can watch the moon
creep o'er the hill.
I'll sing for you
and warm the chill.

Pull up a chair,
let us talk awhile.
The night is young,
I can make you smile.
Take my hand
and make me feel.
There is a hearth here
that's burning still

r ~ 6/25/14

A whispered
call to prayer
across the pillow
my muezzin
your adhān
awakens me
to the sun
a new day.

I rise and kneel
in worship
in supplication
I hasten to you
my confession
in adoration
I vow, I bow
to please you.

r ~ 6/23/14

Caroline loves the ocean.  
Her soul sails on a Carolina breeze.
But her music's in the mountains,
and her heart's back home
where it needs to be.

I'm stuck here
in a Carolina wind,
wading in the ocean
with my heart in Tennessee,
and my mind on Caroline.

Carolina's got everything
a man could want.
Everything he needs.
It's got the mountains and the ocean.
It has a Carolina breeze.

He has everything but Caroline;
everything but Tennessee.

r ~ 6/22/14

in the dark

i sometimes feel

the cold sharp edge
of night's dagger

memories are bled

forgotten pain
is good to remember

the sound of cheney's voice
speaking of war
with his new bad heart.

r ~ 6/22/14

the girl lived downstairs
the boy two floors above
through me exchanged letters
of immature hearts in love.

he wrote:

can we meet love for a minute?

handed to me his secret chit
why I came down the girl only knew
his letter brought her a blushing pink hue!

quickly on that same chit
she scribbled a hand girly sweet

she wrote:

I would die to meet you just once
but today there hardly is a chance
papa hasn't gone to office
through this letter I send you my kiss.

I, love's tender messenger
went up with her love letter
as he read it heaved a deep sigh

at home, *******, why?

he wrote:

slip out when he sleeps at three
we meet under the mahogany tree
please love do this much for me
I beg you some minutes only.

thus rhymed two hearts' dancing beat
the boy was too young to fathom it
nothing though he could understand
yet faithfully he ran their errand!