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Charles Schulz brought us Charlie Brown,
Who rarely smiled, joked, or sang.
A troubled soul—always down,
He hung out with the Peanuts Gang.
Lucy, Patty, Sally, Linus,
Snoopy—the whole nerdy clan
Tried to cheer ole Charlie up;
But sadly it was all in vain.

Life has many a Charlie Brown,
We see them come as well as go.
For, as in Schulz's masterpiece,
We tend, somehow, to love them so.
Too, we try our hand at luck,
Tryin' to cheer ole Charlie up.

-Walterrean Salley
Violin sitting
‘Neath my window.
Wonder does it sound
As it did before?

It looks all right.
The strings—intact.
Wonder do I
Still have the knack?

Violin sitting
‘Neath my window.
Can I still play
As I did before?

Oh, how soothing
Too the ears.
I still can play
After all these years.

And the violin sitting
‘Neath my window
Sounds as good
As it did before.

-Walterrean Salley
Singlehandedly, he changed the world
With his giftedness.
And carved his way into our lives
With his geniusness.

And how should we compare
Such fascinating mind?
Indeed he was a genius.
He was one of a kind.

Despite his human flaws,
He made it to the top.
The incredible inventions—
Ambition couldn't be stopped.

Even in his last days,
He pushed, and pushed still,
Until his final work was done.
‘Twas such an incredible will.

And so, thanks to Steve Jobs—
A great mind of the day—
For his contributions
In a prolific way.

-Walterrean Salley
Oh, how sweet the rose.
On and on its fragrance goes,
With a heavenly scent.
And when the heart is sore
(Pain, sorrow and more) ,
Causing one to lament—

Like a magic wand,
The rose lends a hand;
For it is such a mint.
Its beauty inspires,
(Of which one ne'er tires)
Leaving the heart content.

Its petals are gorgeous.
They subtly forge us
With their bold accent,
To embrace such presence
With a sense of reverence
And that, in any event.

The rose is for ages,
And yet engages—
Like a perfect gent.
It brightens the day
In such a way—
As if an 'agent' sent.

-Walterrean Salley
Your beautiful heart,
And beautiful soul
And beautiful mind
Make a beautiful you,
Who touches
And inspires others—
Making them
Feel beautiful too.
Intoxicated by the inspiration
Of his trade—
With mental powers at work,
A true poet rarely sleeps.
His mind ever churning
With powerful imagery
That produces thought,
Sound, rhythm and gesture.
He molds with metaphor,
Shapes with simile,
And paints with irony—
To produce a beautiful symphony
(Like some great maestro) ,
For himself and all who would enjoy.
Little wonder he rarely sleeps.

© 2009  W. Salley
He could've made two—
Another just like you.
But, then, He took
A second thought,
And said, 'Just one would do.'

And so, for your loveliness—
Your uniqueness too—
There is no other
Quite like you.
There's just no other quite like you.

-Walterrean Salley
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