Sin within our hearts
Destroys innocence and love
Damaging our lives

I'm lost for words,
but I want to say
My faith restored, Ill dream today!
All because of you my friends
At neopoet there is no end
The mystery of creativity begins again
My gratitude runs down
Like great drops of joyous tears
The soft wet tears of a child
Peering up into mothers loving eyes!

I will not ask what cannot be given,
for what can't be helped must be forgiven.
I won't expect measureless days of sun,
nor hope for brave blossoms where there are none.

The wind may chap the addled garden gate,
and its eager verdure must simply wait.
I'll accept the silence of transfixed trees
as their branches endure the winter freeze.

Each time I played some basketball
With son at park beside us,
He’d say my spring had hit the wall
Because of geezeritus.

Or when I yelled a friend’s name out,
“Hey, Tom” instead of Titus;
My son would say, “Without a doubt,
You’re sick with geezeritus.”

After awhile, I got unnerved
From my son’s diagnosis;
So hastily, I drove and swerved
To clinic next to Roses.

Unpacking all that it can carry,
grief finds a destination in my thoughts.
It chooses the spaces where it wants to be.
It’s not being brash, or intentionally unkind.

Memories, the ensemble within,
seek to be worn, over and over.
Buttoned close to me as love perseveres.

This is Wyn. Wyn was a farmer in our valley so green.
This is Dai. Dai worked down the mine, the strongest man I’d ever seen.
Lyn. He was a butcher, comedian and an old soak.
But above everything else, a real friendly bloke.
Then there is Rob. The baker like no other.
And Casanova Steve. Another miner and Robs brother.
Colin Book and Pencil. Our local Bobby and true hero.
Saved the life of Wyns daughter in the river, but he wouldn’t tell you.
Mervin the headmaster. He taught my brothers and my daughter.

Full moon comes to us
A symbol of love and peace
In its glow we trust

Gun metal sky looking down
Depression surrounds. Rain
crying falling down in tears
droplets of nothingness

Cotton shadowy somber
clouds disappearing into
one another and the only
Thing bright is from the

Moon light. Daisy's bowing
down with no light trees obeying
not moving but bony arms
stretched out like idolization
praying admiring the spherical
Ghost light

A lazy wash runs down the page.
Pastels like springtime fill the space.
flowers like tender forget me nots,
come to life there on the spot!
With greens and blues to relate the story
and pinks and purples in all their glory.
But when white light falls on the page.
The wondrous colors begin to engage
leaving a cool and peaceful feeling.
a breath of fresh air at each new viewing!

Gone but not forgotten
I still remember you
My heart is full of pain
Things you used to do

Grief is like a blanket
Or a cashmere sweater
They never go away
Somehow, you wear them better

The day will come, I'm sure
When you do not see their face
When you discover that it's true
Hang your head in sad disgrace

It was supposed to be forever
I remember that
I see the things he wore
There's his woolen hat