Sunday, November 30, 2008

Stone Chapel Hill

Moon hides behinds
An old stone church spire
On an barren grassy hill
Shards of light
Spills onto the ground
Through the stain glass
Lighting a path
Stepple doors

A poor man knocks
Prior, I seek only
Refuge from the night
A few crumbs
For a shrunken belly
I will work for any blessings
You may bestow on me
Stairs are in need of repair
To an upper floor

He work night and through the day
Until the task was complete
As he came
He disappeared
Down the path

Sunday
When the stone chapple on the hill
Filled with the worshipers
Amazement filled thier eyes
Stairs exquisitely built
No supports
No nails

Whispers blew accross the pews
The Prior, announced
His spoken name
Was Joseph

Never to be seen from again....

Cry of Whales

Lonely are the sounds
Of a singling pod
Crying out
The displeasure
Of a lost young

Oh.. the crying
Throughout night

Soaring through
The seas
As the albatross
In flight

Oh.. the
Whaling cries
Of these Seas

Railroad Canvas

Stopped at the railroad crossing
Not in a hurry
But I really didn’t want to wait
Rolling taggers canvas
Cluttered in paint
Some alliances some rants

All the same
I didn’t want to be late
Then one rail car went by
Pleading
“God Save the Earth”
And time stopped

Brief Escape

Howling autumn wind cries
Through the trees
Branches bang against
The cold siding
Another night of candlelight plays
Staying warm by the fireplace

Time to open a book
Pages thrills my desires
When gone to long

The morning sun
Brings another day

To admire.