I walk on given precious gems
far better than a crown of gold
two stands with jointed wiggling stems
to bring me places yet untold

As swift as wind, gentler though
to climb the highest rocky peaks
for dashing past the trees that grow
beside the spring time lazy creeks

Graceful, still, awkward Why?
Getting longer, skilled, with age
many shoes, new pairs to fly
a ballerina takes the stage

They're mine, not perfect but complete
down below, my own two feet

There are so many people I miss, especially my wife, and the very exciting things we used to do together. Sometimes I am sorrowfully speechless at the thought of them, and often drowning in a pool of private tears over the loss of my one true love.  She looks past me as if to see through me as anything and everything deserves her attention more than I do.  However hard I try to pretend it isn't there, a gnawing heartache lingers through the day from the hours of crushing melancholy in the night, seeping into the tone of my voice, fading the vivid colors of the world to a drabby gray.  Even in laughter, I have to fight the dark clouds that threaten to cast a shadow in my expressions.  Can't pull a rabbit out of the hat anymore.  No more escape tricks. I am, fresh out of hope, physically exhausted, emotionally defeated to my core.  It is a very lonely place where all the doors have been shut and bolted from the outside, and the four baren dingy walls that fill my vision in the dimming landscape of life are a stinging reminder of my failures as a father and the inability to measure up as a good husband.  That hour is here, I knew it would come.  I'm off, to a better place. Goodbye.

This glorious time of year
grace is in bloom, divine
supple spindles gleam
by golden beam
waltz, waltz June fairies
from dandelion to lofty pine

Off on a stroll above meadows
scented wisps, a tryst, oh my
sandalwood, sweet
fair mulberry treat
swoon, swoon ethereal swans
into the mild, evening light, of July

Stirring for summer's farewell
frail wonders, tulips, up high
butterflies pair
with delicate flair
steady, steady August delights
primroses await your slumbering sigh


      ~ Luther Lynton Seahand ~

Clouds are weeping at my door
Puddles tearfully trickle in
Moonlight falls, whisper thin

Shingles chatter on the roof
Winter sends her lonely kiss
Restless winds, a soulful hiss

Tousled twigs caress the windows
Shattered leaves sorrow down
Willows writhe, orchids frown

Shutters sigh outside these walls
Thunder moans in evening gloom
Wilted love, she cannot bloom