[WayzataJOHNN]

Thinking over Coffee

Oft of an evening I sit and ponder birth,
and its opposite, for both bookend life.
We see them as terminus, as if alone,
in between is everything from love to strife.
Yet, they are but mile markers along the way.
We existed as parts of others before birth,
and through memory in other’s heart and mind.
As such, we are anything but alone,
and by that last mile marker the truth you find.

[JustAmy]

September 25, 2008



Graphic by Billie

Quiet, Please!

I’d like to have some quiet, Please!
That gives more than a moment’s ease.
A silence that assumes control,
And satisfies a troubled soul.

When nightbirds keep their voices low,
And crickets creep upon tiptoe,
When even shadows stay quite still,
And breezes are afraid to spill.

I’d like the sound that someone hears,
Of coursing bloodflow in his ears.
The quiet of the grave, almost,
Without a noisy, wailing ghost.

The roaring of the parkway stilled,
And stillness upon silence build,
The Summer lightning staying dark,
And lovers quiet in the park.

I know what noise is, what it does,
But I forgot what silence was.
If I could have some quiet, Please,
Perhaps at last, I’ll catch those Zees.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . April 14, 2005
© 2005 - 2008