Vines

memories complicated like vines
remain behind a closed door
in life they intertwined
like a love sublime
in death
they remain
suspended in time

Last words...

Words fade
moss hides
a photo is all that is left of me ...

The Grandfather Clock

the sound amid silence
the forlorn grandfather clock
its pendulum a metronome for life
chiming it away with each hour

the dead of night
time seemingly stands still
memories over spill
like a boiling pot
persistent as the ticking clock

The mind darkens
thoughts swinging to and fro
like the pendulum, tick-tock
mimicking the beating heart:
lub-dub, lub-dub

each sound marking the passage
of a life passing by;
lub-dub, lub-dub
mimicking the pendulum;
tick-tock, tick-tock

the grandfather signals mortality
is the stark reality
each tick and haunting tock
is a chink of life ebbing away:
tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock

Poetry in Motion

galloping horses along the shore
breaking waves crashing galore
splashes, droplets, falling
absorbed without sound

a surfer catching the last wave
riding, gliding through the tube
crouching, twistin' and turnin'
later enveloped by the sea

a lone runner warmed by a low sun
engaged in a dance through sand dunes
at one with the trail
much like the surfer in the wave

a sensory sonnet of the sea
felt by an audience of me

Photo by Karen Bayley-Ewell, Wilderness, South Africa

Wind

haunting howling wind
mysterious
ghostly
comforting -- while inside

haunting howling wind
mysterious
exhilarating
scary -- while outside

haunting howling wind
who are you?
you surprise me
on top of a hill
when below -- you were still

haunting howling wind
you rattle windows
slam doors
stir trees
you alarm me!

haunting howling wind
on a cold stormy night
you warm me
while next to a fire
inside
and
outside

howl wind, howl

Ode to Doc Marten's

Boots Galore
in this massive store!

boots reaching up to thighs
leaving little more to hide

boots ready to climb mountains high
reaching forever to a faraway sky

boots made of solid leather
ready to walk in all weather

On motorbikes roaring far and wide
Harley's boots ain't bad on a ride

But Doc Marten's are the best!
Putting designs to the test

Something about them that go willingly
with anything you damn well please!