About the darkness, long and loud,
a wolfish bark and soulless bay.
The moon came slipping through the clouds
upon the cusp of winter's day.

Oh, autumn wind, where drive you, that
abysmal depth; the wolf's lament?
Wouldst all the fauna hide thereat,
so naked 'neath the moon's ascent?

The clatter of my horse's gait,
by bridle, tightened, so we slowed,
to listen closer, peer and wait,
for what fell test the moon had stowed.

The full moon sign
leading through
the entrance night
with a round figure shape
in a subtle silver sparkle shine
on a late-night cold winter bleak

Carrying in a brilliance trace
rise above the ocean wave
with its mirror reflection stay
across the dark presence stage
through the slow-motion weight
in her glamorous display face

Exude in her beaming gaze
with the radiant scenery pose
In silence, she remains
with a mesmerizing image
of a spectacular view

to remedy a fate worse than death
or contracting one
of several viral diseases named pox
permeate heavy shut tight door
with numerous deadbolts
and sophisticated locks
and impossible mission to out fox
analogous to roach infestation,
who favor nesting within custom made
Roper men's shoes brand name Docks.

I tempt you with a pledge,
My hair, forever windswept.
I live life on the edge,
I’m the biggest thief, inept.

My shoes have massive lifts,
To raise my dreary voice.
My mind speaks when it drifts
The words, my fake choice.

To tempt you for your vote,
On my bible, bless this earth.
I get wrong all I quote,
And I lie about my worth.

Yes that woman had it coming.
Friends, the jury was corrupt.
I did not “sex” that woman,
Yes, we will lock her up.

I want to make you a drink in the morning.
Not coffee- because you don’t like the caffeine-
but I think that you could be a tea drinker.
Have you ever tried a london fog?
I will make you one.

WALKING OUT

I wonder if I am now coming to the end
With only just a little money left to spend
To pay the ferryman, who will comprehend
Across the river Lethe, memories destroyed
No finish line, just one last step into the void
It is just fate, so no need to ever get annoyed
Leaving a lost life that’s not worthy to extend
Into the depths of Hades, ready to descend
None there to welcome me, nor to befriend

I will not name names
but, we are a dying breed.
We do not use (i) for I
or (ur) for you are
no, our hearts are pure.
We do not use texting
slang other than for
its designed usage,
as it insults the
intended intelligence.
We are adults having
learned in school to be
clear and unassuming
you might call me "fogey."
I call me intelligently
respectfully aged
like a fine wine...

I wish you’d kissed me
Can I tell you that?

Masochistically
I am pleased that you didn’t.
If you had,
The faint image of your face
wouldn’t mist my eyes
and I wouldn’t long
to longingly stare
up
into those pale blue eyes
Which, like a deep blue sea,
I wish to sail into,
Drifting…
further …
away from land …
with your waves
crashing against me.

Our family is born of many parents
A family close, yet living far apart,
Sons and daughters of poetic verse
A family born of common heart.

This family is a finely blended one
Siblings with diverse and varied views,
Dispersed across this globe of ours
Family members we get to choose.

The written words our family writes
Speak to the landscape of our times,
And challenge all that read our works
To enjoy themselves within our rhymes.

Once upon a time yours truly did allow
himself to consume anything in sight
eats of mine in the mein
included an assortment of chow.

Impossible firm me
(read my bookish self
a schlepping schlemiel,
with schmaltz and chutzpah
stationed at Highland Manor
in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania)
to compete with Adonis,
no way no chance
asthma gut busts over
waistband of sweatpants,
the choice couture,