Every time I see Her —
I’m caught within Her Gaze —
A Smile — a Quiet Fire —
That flees beyond my Chase.

My Eyes refuse to wander —
Her Beauty — stark — so true —
Yet Her Heart — it Beats Elsewhere —
A Rhythm I cannot pursue.

And in that Distant Radiance —
A Spark — so faint, so bright —
A Silent Story — Only Mine —
Loving — out of Sight.

Her curls — they catch the orchestra’s light —
A whispered fire — in the dark of night —
Innocent hands — clasp another’s frame —
And I — a ghost — who dares not claim.

I watch — a silent ache — unfold —
A love too fierce — to hold — too cold —
She is not mine — yet burns inside —
This yearning — where my soul resides.

Don't forget the coffee you left brewing as you rush out the door,
don't forget to glance at the sunrise driving down the highway
don't miss the smell of the tulips and
bright marigolds outside your door;
fall will come before you know it
and frost will cover the ground

I'll drink it when I get there,
I'll take a picture and look at it later
I'll light a candle and
paint a picture
tomorrow,
this weekend,
when I have time.

Don't postpone your life in the pursuit of a dream,
as sweet as it may be
that could be ended tomorrow.

Something as simple as
a coffee,
a stranger's smile,
a moment to breathe amidst the colors of the sunset
as it dances beautifully
just for you.

Enjoy today,
for just what it is,
so you may always have something to wake up for.

You offer me peace —
and I sin in silence

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                           Lenin in Petrograd


               They're at it again! I wish they'd decide once and for all
                which gang of hooligans constitutes the government of
                this country!

                          -Uncle Alex reacting to fighting in the streets
                                         in Doctor Zhivago (1965)


More men in masks, and wearing scruffy clothes
Roaming the streets and waving rifles about
And which side they are on, nobody knows
Our capital is now all fear and doubt

Some demand my papers, and others my life
Some challenge my accent and exam my skin
Some threaten with a gun and others a knife
And some an unmarked car to throw me in

“Here, sir, the people govern,” Alexander Hamilton said -
No longer, alas; the people’s laws are dead