This poem to be read
  at the end of my life

When I bid you adieu
  from the joy and the strife

A verse filled with hope
  and with love from within

To carry inside,
  my song on the wind
  
I’ll try not to preach,
  as others have done

But rather beseech you,
  to strive twice begun

To love with the strength
  that’s God given inside

Then to love even more,
  in an unending rhyme

These words are my gift,
   I bequeath you today

In the hope you’ll remember
  what I last had to say

For I loved you all deeply,
  your kindness I sought

And the memories sweetly,
  those lessons you taught

So I leave you this morning,
  and bid you farewell

I leave you together,
  bonded hearts then to dwell

All strength in your sharing,
  my love to remind
  
Your redemption awaits,
—salvation divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

I don’t need flowers
  to have a garden

I just need seeds
  where promise blossoms

I don’t need pieces
  to solve a puzzle

I just need words
  their teeth unmuzzled

I don’t need time
  its grand illusion

I just need space
  re-entry’s fusion

I don’t need liars
  defying reason

I just need truth
—my faith in season

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)

In reference to nothing
Alone with itself
The truth burns in fury
Damnation to melt
Its legions are many
Believers so few
The stragglers all freezing
And lined in the queue
The mirror the liar
Death hiding within
The priest the deceiver
Who threatens with sin
But truth holds dominion
Setting fire to the throne
Rising above and beyond
What's self-righteously known
It calls to you silent
As it calls to you loud
Do you hide in the shadows
Or answer back proud
That thing that you reference
From your prison within
Those things done in deference
Now caught in the wind
You lie as you bargain
You cheat and defame
One voice now your jailer
And calling your name
Your back to the altar
You hide in the pew
Before robbing the poor box
A new low for you
Your history tarnished
And legacy shot
Your name ill-begotten
From all you are not
But truth has no time stamp
No ticket to claim
One choice will release it
Life starting again
Your mortal days finite
You have to act fast
Will you ask for redemption
—your soul to repast

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)

Science will never prove
The existence of God
Science will never disprove
The existence of God
Its physics pre-emergent
Its logic self contained
If anything, a tool
To measure what’s at hand
But like the foundry never
Retaining the artists spirit
Quantum theory will never
Define the Creator
Both simple and complex
Defying contradiction
It’s inside the deepest paradoxes
That we come closest to God
And within those contradictions
Become truly ourselves
Emerging from the great mystery
  —both transcendent and divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)

Mistake in comparison,
  an error in the match

Your magic now rejected,
  another’s work attacked

The winner now the loser,
  the prize a vacant throne

The Jester flees the castle,
  —and envy sits alone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

"A Man’s true spirit can only be forged and replenished
    —in the fire of the unknown"

(Last Line Of Chapter 18 In My Novel ‘Revenge Along The War Trail') …. Published Sept 1, 2016

Those footsteps ahead
  are now footsteps behind

The past but a memory
  the future declines

My cadence is slowing
  my direction unclear

When frozen in place
  on the wind I can hear

Quiet footsteps ahead
  louder footsteps behind

Their sound fast approaching
  to reclaim and remind

The years stay unpromised
  except for the end

Each step left unwalked
  trailing closer—portends

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2019)

Growing simpler with
  each passing year

 The leaves turn,
   and my mind releases

  Freeing what it’s taken
    a lifetime to acquire

   Freeing what only this moment
     can understand

 (Grantham New Hampshire: January, 2012)

Extinction probability,
  ninety nine point nine

History’s infinitive,
  the graveyard of time

Cosmology winning out
  in the end

The hourglass draining
  —last thought to befriend

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

Is blood,
  the price of art

Is death,
  the price of truth

A rose,
  its thorn uncovered

And love,
—the price of youth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Fighting my memory,
I watched the calendar turn
Flashes of my grandfather
Racing through my mind
Age wasn’t supposed to be like this
Or then…maybe it was
Darkness
Followed by darkness
Then more darkness again
Where is the light
Hours of larceny
Time being stolen
Waiting, waiting
Fighting with my
Memory
—watching the calendar turn

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2013)

Hitchhiking through the wormhole,
  all time was left behind

Distance collapsing upon itself
  reflections other side

Waste material of a life unspent
  flowing back in a parted stream

Entry to a doorless mystery
  —from a lost forgotten dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

True to the Muse, the words instill,
  each one a trusted friend

Her voice embedded in my soul,
—beginning unto end

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Consistent in my thoughts,
  honest with my emotions

I walked a familiar path,
—as I set the woods on fire

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Would I trade the words…
  would I trade for a song

Would I trade the words…
  for a life ever long

Would I trade the words…
  for a pulpit on high

Would I trade the words…
  for the moon and the sky

Would I trade the words…
  for immortality insured

Would I trade the words…
  for your love still unheard

Would I trade the words…
  for all fortune and fame

Would I trade the words
  —would my soul then remain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

The night retreats in silence,
   as daylight rules the fray

Darkness reigns the past goodbye
  this moment not a dream

The present all we’re given
  the future lies astray

Repeating truth inside itself
  —one time forever means

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)

Is God a deficiency in
  our character or makeup

Do we fill in the vacuum with almighty
  tales of beyond

Is the salvation we search for
  there buried deep inside us

Do our sermons lay unwritten
—last devotional unsung

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)

Be it Melville or Tolstoy
  or a Pen still to burn

Know the words are just borrowed
  —until silence returns

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)