Blistering weather withers
As cooler climes take over
Reflecting
Revealing the emptiness that surrounds
Pervading the hollowness that echoes
Like an empty cavern
Floating through a ravine of longing
Waiting
For the improvements that signal
Recuperation
Regaining the equanimity
Of our own circle of life
Holding fast to passions and fancies
Foibles and follies
Hopes and dreams
Fears and failures
Following the road to the precipice
Onward
Holding hands
Always reaching for the next plateau
Always seeking the unanswered question
And laughing
To cover up the unknown
The sham laughter of sorrow
To hide the tears
That flow too readily for propriety
Yet shrink with hope
Fleeting
And rise again
On a roller-coaster of fate

Light sits in a closet
awaiting revelation
And fine wine
withholds fermentation
from those
who refuse to drink
Understanding revealed
along a pathway
chosen by the heart
Sacred moments of triumph
afloat in a bottle
set adrift
to be plucked
out of the rapids
before the waterfall
carries dreams
floating
in a sea of misunderstanding
and misdirection
Course adjustments calculated
by redefining who you are
Reawakening
Seeking enlightenment
with tentative steps
while being bold
Forgetting and forgiving
on a path moving forward
Awakening to a new reality
and a future to behold

9/10/19

(for Lydia on an anniversary)

A half-dozen Little Necks
Clams on the half shell
Whetting the appetite
Eaten raw
A squeeze of lemon
And cocktail sauce
A perfect respite

Afternoon snack
With a bowl of clam chowder
Or a prelude to an entrée
Like trout almandine
With crabmeat stuffing
An ideal combination
For dinner any day

Supper after theatre
A lovely aperitif
With after theatre talk
A half-dozen Little-Necks
And a seafood soufflé
Impeccable repast
Before a homeward walk

A kangaroo in paradise
Hopped along the shore
Happily hopping over waves
The surf a foamy roar

Starfish and sea horses
Stood aghast sheltered by a lee
To see a kangaroo within their view
And wondered if this can actually be

If paradise for kangaroos
Is happily hopping by the sea
Maybe next time you might find
A kangaroo is happy in a tree

So next time you’re at the shore
Keep an eye where ‘ere you go
One never knows where paradise
Or kangaroos will show

9/21/19

A cool breeze assaults the heat
     of another summer afternoon
Bringing relief and a hint
     of fall lingering on the horizon
A new season cooling the air
     and painting the trees a myriad of hues
Festival glories revisiting daydreams
     with harvests and goblins and beer fests galore
A time for reflection as days slowly shorten
     and nights cool for sleeping content and relaxed
As fall reawakens splendid sensations
     of cool breezes assaulting another summer day

8/12/19

A hint of fall
Relief from fetid days of summer
With breaths of crisp air
Highlighting September
As August creeps toward closing
And seasonal transitions
Make way for new delights

Changes in fashion
Mark changes in momentum
As lethargy yields
To harvest repasts
With bountiful splendor
Like foam on a beer stein
The colors of autumn
Refresh and invite

Time for renewal
Feelings internal
Opens the soul
Opens the eyes

Days moving forward
Toward holiday seasons
Joy to behold
As fam’lies unite

A hint of fall
Refreshes the senses
Like a cold brew in October
Or a carnival ride
A soupçon of freshness
Like meditation reveals candor
The cool autumn pleasures
Flow in with the tide

Autumn brings rebirth
The closing out of summer
And the renewal of the cycle
Signifying a time of regeneration
With cool, crisp golden mornings

Faster time paces
As the days grow slightly shorter
And momentum challenges
The fledgling generation
To rekindle itself anew

No more a time of consumption
Or empty days of dreary longing
But a momentary highlight
That expunges the emblematic
And erases the scars of lassitude
And lethargic days that summer brings

The bounty of fall’s beginnings
Fills trees with yellow splendor
And refocuses the thirst that redefines
The topography of the soul

No longer the empty moments
Of fantasies forgotten
That sorrows never cling to
And time alone can’t quell

Only the rebirth of autumn
As the harvesting of last year
Cleanses fields and forests
Making way for new born buds
That reveal through empty spaces
Left by falling embers
Of things that are best forgotten
And glories yet to come

The autumnal equinox
Light and dark
In equal measure
Vying for supremacy
Balancing life’s forces
As the sun crosses
The celestial equator
Moving through the darkness
Toward the new light of spring

Autumn glories
Balancing life
Letting go
Of inner daemons
Harmonizing with the earth
And finding comfort and serenity
In the warmth of snug spaces
Created and preserved
Against the vicissitudes of winter

The mysteries of the unknown
Served up daily
As the fall air
And mutating colors
Present new challenges
Opening doors to the
Constant of change
Embracing the present
And the vastness of life

The trees go from bare, barren branches
Agonizingly bursting with buds
That become leaves in their palest shade
Reaching for the sun and darkening in color
Time to reach their fullness of life

At home in New York
Time to breathe the energy
That only New York air carries in its wake
Time to let the New York rhythms transfuse
Transform
Reshape itself
As a prelude evolves into a symphony

At home in New York
Where ideas float in the air
Like grains of sand in the Sahara
Waiting to germinate
Waiting to be gathered
Cross pollinated
And become grand arches of infinite rainbows

Glass and steel rising
With sculptural ferocity
Like Jack’s beanstalk
Towering into the sky
Reaching for the golden egg
Transformed into an apple
To be plucked from the tree of life
That only New York can succor

Electro-magnetic
Drawing toward itself
Like the moon controls the tides
And returning to the atmosphere
Like solar flares
Volcanic yet enigmatic
Waiting to be recaptured
Waiting to be nurtured into being

Forever embracing the moment
Holding on to glass hands
Crystalline clear
Bending light
Into rainbows of incandescence
Prisms of starlight
Held in suspended animation
Focused solely on perfection
Gathering dust into clouds
Like cotton candy
Pink and blue
Spun sugar confections
Trapped by centrifugal force
Yet free to puff
With gossamer wings
Into ***** of fluff
To melt on the tongue
In muted simulation
Of irresistible forces
Drawn by magnetic cohesion
Into one

The kangaroos are jumping over hill and over dale
The leprechauns are leaping through fields forever pale
The spectrum of the mermaids is growing by the day
And happy ever after is one more day away

The unicorns are dancing to gigues of their own devise
The ancient mariner speaking in rhymes that once surprise
Pegasus parading ‘round clouds of soft ice cream
And never ending stories are more than just a dream

Waves breaking against the rocky beach
Pebbles smoothed by millennia of tides
And driftwood surrenders to the waves
Seagulls watch as they glide across the expanse
Searching for food in the water below
And the tide transforms the beach
As it ebbs and flows
And another day enters into history

8/25/19

www.brucelevine.com
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A hint of fall
Relief from fetid days of summer
With breaths of crisp air
Highlighting September
As August creeps toward closing
And seasonal transitions
Make way for new delights

Changes in fashion
Mark changes in momentum
As lethargy yields
To harvest repasts
With bountiful splendor
Like foam on a beer stein
The colors of autumn
Refresh and invite

Time for renewal
Feelings internal
Opens the soul
Opens the eyes

Days moving forward
Toward holiday seasons
Joy to behold
As fam’lies unite

A hint of fall
Refreshes the senses
Like a cold brew in October
Or a carnival ride
A soupçon of freshness
Like meditation reveals candor
The cool autumn pleasures
Flow in with the tide

8/23/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1

My dream of academia
Is an idealized one
Mr. Chips and the Paper Chase
Classes of five hundred
In lecture halls the size of stadiums
Students focused
Totally absorbed
Hands flying skyward
With thoughts, questions
And answers
Always thinking
Always searching
Always seeking the challenge
Digesting facts and adding knowledge
Connecting dots from places obscure
Yet always looking for hidden meanings
Layers and levels and subtexts
That clarifies cognition
And opens the portal
Of the enigma unknown

http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2019/08/academia.html

The golden drops of dew
Shimmer in the sunlight
Casting a glow over the
     expanse of lawn
Green and gold paving a path
Silken carpets in the haze
     of the morning light

Trees bursting with life
Filled with leaves
Dark green opalescence
     awaiting their destiny
As days move toward another season
Bringing a cornucopia of color,
     bountiful and bold

Lingering remnants of summer
Mixed with precursors of fall
As days shrink and sundown
     creeps closer to the dawn
Twilight casting shadows on lawns
Another day and another season
     blending one into another

8/16/19

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The day drifted by
Or flew by
Hard to decipher
Work obliterates thought
In a stream of consciousness
Unconsciousness
Pursuing goals
As an end unto itself
Shapeless
Racing from one entity to another
Without connections other than themselves
Each one tied to the central theme
Yet independent
And drifting
Their own haphazard ideas
Played against the venues afforded each one
And seeking the end of their journey
In a new reality
Fulfilled by the drifting of time

8/19/19

www.brucelevine.com
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A cool breeze assaults the heat
     of another summer afternoon
Bringing relief and a hint
     of fall lingering on the horizon
A new season cooling the air
     and painting the trees a myriad of hues
Festival glories revisiting daydreams
     with harvests and goblins and beer fests galore
A time for reflection as days slowly shorten
     and nights cool for sleeping content and relaxed
As fall reawakens splendid sensations
     of cool breezes assaulting another summer day

8/12/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1

Going backward to go forward
Finding my true identity
The hidden core
That represents my reality
Overgrown with twists and turns
Carrying me in wrong directions
Swimming upstream
Pummeled by the surf
Battered by rapids
Working on goals
That seemed long forgotten
But only frozen by cryogenics
Waiting in the wings
Hoping to be rediscovered
Looking in the mirror
To another dimension
Past the vortex
That remains transitory
Fleeting moments pointing the way
To look backward
And go forward

The journey began under a cloudy sky with rain hovering over the horizon. – Going back. – The painter saw the vision. Was it real? Or Was it just the shadow of the storm? The painter saw the canvass. Forms danced before his eyes. Thunder clapped in the distance. The brush moved to the rhythm of the storm that only the painter heard. A lifeline from the clouds like an umbilical cord. – Going back. – The painter focused again. The clouds thickened, blackening against the horizon in anticipation. – Going back. – The painter saw himself. He’d stopped painting. Now going back. – Going back. – The painter wondered. The painter asked himself. The painter took a brush, squeezed paint on the palette; color after color – a new variety. – Going back. – The unknown. A new beginning. – Going back. – The white of the canvass and the blackening sky. The storm. Pure color. Mixing color as the storm moved closer. A clap of thunder. The painter looked at the sky. The painter dabbed the brush onto the palette. Rain began. The brush danced to a rhythm. Thunder claps. Sweeping across the sky; sweeping across the canvass. – Going back. – The painter looked at his painting. The painter looked at the sky. The painter was happy. – Going back.

8/13/19

www.bruclevine.com
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I stay,
go,
stand,
sit,
walk,
remain still,
sleep,
wake,
laugh,
cry,
speak,
remain silent.

www.brucelevine.com
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Foraging through lists is a constant reminder
of the haphazard as well as the fulfilled.
The transitory reclaims reality in a circle of tenacity,
yet only the beginnings of momentum.
Life moves forward marking minutes in its path,
and days on the calendar revealing the prophecy;
written in hieroglyphics in the clouds, floating yet everlasting.
Destiny forever fixed in a sky filled with vapor,
like driftwood washed up on a beach to be resurrected,
recycled and reclaimed.
A sculpture created by the sea.
A mirror of the universe,
set in the sand, grafted together.
Intertwined with the proximity of the future;
contained in the lists;
perused and pursued forever.
An entity as one.

8/1/19


www.brucelevine.com
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For some
Any place they hang their hat is home
For some
It isn’t physical
It’s metaphysical

There’s an essence
Intangible, unimaginable
Indescribable, but real

For every cliché in column A
There’s a single word in column B
Home

Travel and transience
Can never subjugate
The pull
The allure
Of the quintessential

And as the song says
A house is not a home
And the greatest love of all
Will yearn in tandem
For the romance of home

The grass is tall
And blows in the wind
Making waves against the sky
As the air whistles through its leaves

Greens blend into shades of color
Marking the times of the day
Like a sundial
Dividing the hours

Dandelions sprouting
Their thistle flowers fragmenting
As the breeze transports their seeds
Over the grass

The day dawns
And dew waters the blades of grass
Transfusing it with new life
And new hope for another day

7/30/19

www.brucelevine.com
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A bunch of chocolate morsels
Just perfect for a Queen
Who craves a special holiday
And every day between

Written in celebration of National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day – August 4, 2019

8/4/19

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Past the keyhole
The portal to the unknown
Flowers bloom and signify
Lessons learned

Yet future unplanned
Remains unspoken
Time alone withstands the test
Of reality

Foraging through the inexplicable
Toward a new reality
Without a helping hand to guide
Its destiny

Questions remain
As sociology and psychology
Scramble through empty strata
Of perplexity

Fighting new platitudes
Unknown explanations
Diversity notwithstanding
No clarity

Lost communication
Through evolution
Of a backlit screen
Revealing nothing

7/15/19

www.brucelevine.com
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A starfish crawls across the wreck of a ship
The hull opened like a tuna fish can
Plastic bottles filled with water
Awaken the hereafter

7/30/19

www.brucelevine.com
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Summer heat
Lassitude permeating every pore
Wasted days
Too hot to even think
And moving takes more energy
Then it produces
With after-effects of permanence
In a single place
Unable to raise one’s body
Beyond a reclining chair
Heat rising
Steaming up from the pavement
In unending streams of perspiration
The only respite is recumbent
Drifting into a semi-comatose mixture
Of suffering and gloom
As days become nights
With no relief
But
Around May
To begin
Praying for a blizzard

7/31/19

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Syrup drips over the tower of pancakes
The last vestiges of Log Cabin
Empties the bottle
Morning begins with a plethora of carbs
A joyous start to the new day

7/30/19

The frozen lake no longer exists
Heat has stolen time
Chemicals in food has changed lives
Women becoming barren
Flight of songbirds
The phases of the moon mutating
As the world becomes further
And further adrift
Lives on hold
Fantasies taking over
As video games become the new reality
Tides rising around the corpse
Of another time
Stigma reinvented
Jobs forsaken in favor of escapism
As adolescence extends into middle age
And maturity evaporates
Half way through the forbidden
Grandmothers laugh
Gold threads extinguished
Without knowing when or why
A torpedo blasts against the rocky coast
Sending shale amongst the cacti of Arizona
And the lake swallows the debris
Lost forever in the next ice age

7/30/19

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A cool breeze
Wafted over us
As we sat on a rock
Watching the boats
Bob at their moorings
Lazily asking nothing more
Than to bask in the sun

Seagulls gliding past
Shadows on the still water
A distant cry
Of a ferry horn
Mingled with the gull’s call
And the sounds of children
Playing in the park along the quay
Innocent and focused
Only on their games

Peace and tranquility hover
Over us as we watch
A sense of well being
Invades our souls
As we sip our drinks
Savoring the moments
And storing the memory
Of a lovely afternoon
Before returning home

7/25/19

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The early morning was beautiful
A cool breeze wafted across the horizon
The sun, hidden behind the trees
Barely sneaking its glow through the branches
Giving respite from its glare
Rising inevitably as the day prepares

Morning sounds awakening
As the gentleness of the breeze
Again refreshed, even as the sun heated
Transforming the atmosphere of the morning
Radiating light and warmth
As the morning drifts forward

7/15/19

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Finishing the thought
Producing commentary
With or without meaning
Measuring space on a page
Of unknown value
Awakening a prism of the intellect
Printed against a background
Of tangerine
Books filled with words
Amounting to nothing
Thoughts piled one on another
Illuminating hidden understanding
Through a transom of enlightenment
In the age of reality
Never forgetting to cut and paste
In a journal kept hidden under the bed
Thoughts of great minds
Produced in history
Resolving complexities of hidden meanings
And finishing the thought

7/22/19

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A slow walk to nowhere
A metaphor for life
Hills and valleys flatten
Amid the daily strife

Of drifting ever onward
The ending never clear
If today or if tomorrow
The last hurrah is here

Like walking the dog through raindrops
Pellets of water coating my head
Sniffing the ground for nothing
Or something being dead

Longing for resolution
Holding hands again
Yesterday’s tomorrows
In bed with us and then

Turning off the faucet
Of guilt and pain gone by
A chance that’s barely taken
Happiness worth the try

A faster walk to somewhere
Only the future knows
A happy life together
A restful night’s repose

Shadows of mountains
parade over valleys within.
Streams resemble arteries,
sustaining life,
as trout evading anglers
reveal cascading thoughts
of life and death
that society proclaims
meaningless in movies:
Hollywood’s refrain.

Cheaper by the dozen.
A cartoon fantasy
where bodies once dismembered
return in the next scene.

Children believing pictures;
a thousand words forgotten.

Time standing still
in a bas-relief of life
carved in plaster panels,
a faux façade
over doorways;
an entry in a fun house
at an arcade.

Paragons of virtue.
Derision enforced
with narcissistic selfies
taken on the precipice of mountains
at the edge of a cliff
overhanging the valley.
A swan-dive into the unknown.
A bungie-cord off a highway
or the bridge over the River Kwai.
The new reality forsaken
in a technological haze.

Passage through the looking glass;
Mushrooms in a bottle;
revealing the future of society
to those indoctrinated
and inculcated,
yet reduced to texting hyperbole
as syntax disappears
and the lexicon dismembers.
Devout believers in the new world order.
Refrains of disenchantment;
disenfranchising;
by groups of devotes
of the hyper-sensitive
who perceive only their own vision
in a world of their own making.

Questions never-ending.
A virtual canvass of destiny
held in a moment of tranquility,
yet unable to sustain.

6/24/19

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Paragons revisited
Through threads of silken wax
As time remembers golden days
With visions no longer there

Each moment once remembered
Outlasting real events
That once had frozen entries
In a journal of the mind

Passing through a vortex
Sustained by fantasies
Of eras long passed over
In timelessness revealed

History’s long forgotten
Passages of flights
Through mountains of remembrance
That once resembled life

Jazz and understanding
And values thrown away
Each decade now discarded
In a marching band parade

Of virtues once regarded
And rules held in a glass
Revealed with empty precision
And followed without regard

Eras once remembered
Now hidden on a shelf
With dust encrusted volumes
In a journal of the mind

6/24/19

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Being together
Sharing time to remember
Future looking bright

Happiness abounds
In the simplest of pleasures
Sweet and pleasant days

Walking hand in hand
Window shopping together
Simple things to share

7/11/19

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They were waiting here for the train
Not a word had been spoken
And yet they knew there was significance to their waiting.

Circumstances had placed them here as much as led them on.
This was their future, their hopes, their dreams, their everything.

The train would take them home.

http://fiftywordstories.com/2019/07/09/bruce-levine-waiting-for-the-train/
www.brucelevine.com

Every day
Is another day
Golden moments
Empty moments
Passing time
Filled with
New meanings
Happy memories
Built on longings
Now replaced
With the satisfaction
Of a life delivered
Free from torment
Moving forward
On a raceway
Paved with roses
Floating through time
Making every day
Another day
To remember

http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2019/07/every-day.html
www.brucelevine.com

Chocolate dreams
And raspberry kisses
Coconut schemes
And rosemary wishes
These are the making
Of happy-ever-after
Here for the taking
Recorded in laughter

Puppies and kittens
Parading in tandem
Oodles-of-noodles
And everything random
Fantasy games
Just around the corner
Silly made-up names
So don’t be a mourner

Hide-and-go seek
And new revelations
Sneaking a peek
And joyous salutations
Here’s to tomorrow
The future before us
A toast to no sorrow
And life with no fuss

Good times and glad times
And everything happy
No longer sad times
The future looks snappy
Peanut-butter candy
An every-day treat
Forever looking dandy
A picture-perfect feat

Chocolate dreams
And raspberry kisses
Tomorrow’s moon-beams
Filled with every-day wishes
Bright skies and sunshine
Forever to stay
A joyous design
The theme for today

Potato knishes
Pasta with sauce
Every-day dishes
Never a loss
Happy tomorrows
A joyous repast
The future propose
Forever will last

6/30/19

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There’s the ocean green
Sail boats slowly drifting by
Waves break on the beach

New York in winter
Cold with snow and freezing ice
Thawing toward the spring

Piano music
Tunes to savor all alone
Tunes to share with friends

Passing days of yore
Filled with joy and happy times
Mem’ries still retained

https://anthonywatkins.wixsite.com/btsjul2019/haiku

Whatever happened to one?

One telephone company –
Ma Bell!
You picked up the receiver,
Attached by a squiggly wire,
And dialed the phone – literally.
You put your finger in the hole
For the number or letter;
Rotated the dial and back it came,
Rotating in reverse, and making that wonderful sound:
Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka
Then the person on the other end answered
And actually said – Hello…
No lost calls – no breaking up…
Simply one –
And it worked.

Bleach is even more confusing.
If you wanted clean clothes
You went to the store and bought
Bleach.
You did have a choice –
Bleach or Bleach.
One!
It was easy
You picked up one bottle or the other –
Either one – they were both the same –
One!
Easy.

Today there are 7,826 ½ choices!
Bleach that smells like flowers;
Bleach that smells like fresh air;
(I’m not sure how that’s possible)
Bleach that’s like a cool, refreshing stream;
Bleach that spills and splashes;
Bleach that doesn’t spill or splash.
Bleach in colors –
Liquid – Solid – Powder…
Will there be decaffeinated bleach next?
(More about coffee another time)
I’m beginning to understand
Why people take drugs –
The bleach aisle alone is
Enough to torment the brain!

One was simple.
One was effective

Choices are nice
But better left for the
Wine list.

http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2019/06/choices.html

Summer rites
Reinvented pastimes
Happy days of yellow
Fringed with sea-foam green

Mountains of tomorrow
Holding fast at sundown
Burgeoning beginnings
Awakening each day

Reflections in a shadow
Of mist forever rising
As dawn predicts a new day
With lazy afternoons

Forgetting stress of winter
Seasonal sensations
Dow Jones disembarking
To quieter retreats

The mantra of the summer
Mixed in pure reflection
Of happy ever after
Perfecting summer rites

6/28/19

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Life changes whether we want it to or not
Happiness remains elusive
Often based on circumstances beyond our control
Perfection may never be possible
But close is good
Not just good enough
And when you get there
Sometimes it’s pulled out from under your feet
Sharing and caring seemed so close
And time ahead seemed so real
But demons of the past can devour the present
With unknown powers trapped within
Negating the future
And yet uncertainty prevails
The past rises
Intertwining itself like octopus tentacles
Wrapping around future happiness
And dragging it back to the depths
The darkness of the deep
Caverns of stalactites
Clinging to the ceiling
Clawing to break free
Grasping at happiness and yet afraid
Afraid of the unknown outside the cave
Where light transforms the depths into sunshine
And hope and happiness is the new reality

6/20/19

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The human heart
As fragile as crystal stemware
And if one’s very lucky
It gets a single chance
For one great love
To treasure for a lifetime
That’s more than usually given
And the human heart forever
Fills to overflow

If fate steps in
To take away the loved one
There’s nothing left
To fill the void behind
A walking corpse
With a heart that’s simply beating
Forcing blood through a body no longer alive

But against all odds
A billion to one encounter
A second great love
Rejuvenates the soul
Bringing new hope to the soul no longer breathing
And bursting forth
A second heart demands
To grow inside and fill the void created
To open and let in a second great love it holds

But if time descends
And takes away a lifetime
The second heart
Breaks like crystal stemware cast aside
The second human heart
That bore a new beginning
By loving the new great love
Filled with hope until it died
No longer beats
No longer sees forever
No longer hears the laughter
No longer feels the joy
It knew the love would bring

Forever is forever
Without love not worth living
The human heart
One or even two
Can no longer hope or daydream
Its breath no longer matters
The human heart forsaken
Dies and walks the earth in a shell
Of empty cells misshapen
By broken hearted mem’ries
Now nothing ever matters
Only love that it once knew

6/25/19

When love
Transcends time, distance and space
And takes hold of two people
Brought together by destiny and fate
The universe is renewed

Golden threads
Stitch the planets into a ring
And Saturn gives up its rings
As baguettes to surround the diamond
That once was the sun

And then
The moons and the stars
Shine down on the love
Like a rainbow of light
Catching moonbeams in its path
In a spiral of sparkles
Like fireworks on the Fourth of July

When love
Is so strong that it can
Overcome all obstacles
And join two people
Like an umbilical chord
Gives life to a baby
And each
Nurtures the other
With their hearts and their souls
As love unites them
For eternity

When love
Is so strong that the past disappears
And only the future remains
To be seen among the stars and the planets
In a universe of their own

Every day’s an anniversary
But some days are more profound
Weeks go by so quickly
And monthly markers
Reflect a moment of joy

The day of meeting
One single moment
In time that never was
Opening new tomorrows
That Heaven etched with love

Then yearly dates remembered
Each one a sacred day
A chance for hearts entwining
Destiny fulfilled
Forever and a day

The twenty-third reminds us
Each month of love and joy
Twelve special days remembered
With happiness restored

For love alone can triumph
And love can fill the void
The twenty-third remembered
Each day of every year
And all the days between them
Are special because of you

6/23/19

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Today is your birthday
I’ll celebrate it with memories
Of thirty-seven years together
And eternity in Heaven

Sultry days of summer
Warming the heart
As wheat fields sway in breezes
And flowers bloom triumphant

The rebirth of spring surrenders
To golden days of August
As July passes with leisure
And tranquil times remembered

Drifting over valleys
Like hot-air balloons
Japanese lanterns
Illuminate the sky

Festive times enhancing
Simple pleasures abound
Water games and hiking
Rejuvenate the soul

Yielding to simple pleasures
Rekindled by the sun
Basking in summer glories
And seasons yet to come

6/13/19

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Isometric exercises
Solo meditation
Breathing intoxication
Held suspended

Longing for understanding
The future yet revealed
Planetary momentum
Guiding the path

Following the trail
Through forests of evergreens
Boundaries evolving
As hope cruises on

Opening doors
Vistas from mountain tops
Reflex actions
Defining the way

6/11/19

www.brucelevine.com
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A season filled with marigolds
Laced with lavender and thyme
Holly berries left from Christmas
Hung from transoms in doorways
Vestiges of seasons defined
Reminders of other memories
A golden glow in the mind
Replaced and redefined anew
Each solstice and equinox
As marigolds bloom and holly festoon

A journal entry left unwritten
Remembered and unsaid
Toasting a new beginning
A calendar engraved
With glories of the future
Brightly colored flowers
A season filled with marigolds
Laced with lavender and thyme

6/16/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1