Winter bows his grisly head
when the trees bend low
Branches bear the heartless weight
of the ice and snow

Ponds turn into frosted glass
and diamond streams to jewels
Rivers turn to mirrored roads
and lakes to sapphire pools

Echoed cries of banished fowl
plead for hopeful spring
Not until the March wind blows
will the warbler sing

Winter's night of cold and dark
slowly turns to day
when the glaze and snowy drifts
gently melt away

New spring lifts her waking head
when the sun grows neigh
Buds and blooms unfurl with joy
reaching for the sky

When will that gallant gent
in hat and cape
cease to open doors for Gabrielle
and regard her
as a lady of worth?

When he catches her reflection
in a window or a mirror
revealing her secret disdain
at his back
hidden behind her painted mask --

that is when
and only then

I carry my feelings
on my face
and true loves on my arm
I spelled them out
without a doubt
because it does no harm

Do you suppose a ship or rose
is better off seen than read?
Written or not
their faces are caught
engraved with love
in my head

orange flames
in midnight skies
where goes the smoke?
whence comes the flies?

the dawn of hope
in soft blue sings
here come the clouds
on angel's wings

When entering a room
the conversation changes or stops

When making a joke
the laughter if forced

When you say "Hello" on the telephone
there is an awkward pause

When you make a suggestion
eyes dart judgementally around the room

When these things happen
you know the truth

You have been dealt out of the hand
of those around you

You are patiently, quietly
                                          tolerated

You are old now
                         and being filed away

When the sigh of a breeze
in meadowed land
mimics the velvet-soft whisper
of the owl wing in flight
the evening spreads her indigo cloak
as does the night in her majesty -
for God's tender command of daily silence
soothes each weary heart
at the end of each garish day

Where did courage grab me by the neck
and force me onward?

Was it when I was hiding behind the piles of ship's cargo
where bravery took over?
Or was it when duty elbowed my excuses
into the dark waters of my easy fear?

I know a chill spat down my soul
and a steel fist closed around my weak resolve
when I heard her voice beyond my cowardly hiding place

"He doesn't initially care", she lied
with that ever-present word of hers, "initially"
Truth snapped onto focus in the mirror on life
"I guess you're initially right", I also lied
jumping out of the trenches
feeling the air suddenly leave the earth

The final confrontation flew around us
like a panicked bat in a fire
ending with a quick exit
and angry footsteps
fading on the weathered planks
of the indifferent old dock

Courage finally released my neck
and the air began to fill
the vacuum
around me

How
after that
in such a battleground
could I still enjoy a blood-red sun
setting over sailboats
bobbing in a row
unaware?