Bayles Poems - Poems about Bayles

After Rain, I'm Left with an August Day

After the Rain, I’m Left with an August Day


My ears ring as I sit in the loft
and the sun shines through haze.
It rained last night and I know
it will rain again. I’ve already
checked through my emails
embracing my ritual to start the day.
The house cat rubs against my leg
until I allow it onto my lap.
I visited

Petrichor

Something was changing one day—
I felt it when a cool breeze blew.
Restless branches danced and swayed
while the world around me grew silent.

With the first touches of rain
I smelled ozone in the air
and in a moment of glory raised my arms.
I embraced the moment as mine alone

but looked for the word to describe how I felt
like

Prior to Intent

her presence at first sight
an illumination
something I didn’t understand

she stirred imagination

a current ran through my body
and whatever stirred
was beyond comprehension

an angel, perhaps

I watched
as she checked into my life
and disappeared without a word

but she lingered in my mind

a constant stirring

until the next time
when I said hello

The Beat of My Heart

Without a word I slip out of bed
and a thousand conversations
run through my mind
as I walk barefoot across worn carpeting.

Two nights ago, I barely made it home
while driving through a deluge
and water on the roads.
I defied the warnings
and survived
as bolts of lightning laced the sky.

I was the storm.
I was the silence.

Now as the sun pokes

At My Leisure

a blank page
when I awaken
and walk barefoot
across the carpet
and when I embrace
the song of nothingness
it wants more

a cool breeze through the window breathes new life

onto the page in front of me
and the sun peaks through the window
as I sit at my laptop
and slide my feet under the desk
I love my muse and learn to let

Soft Voices

morning light through window
a song heard in my dream lingers
living beyond time
birds outside my window sing
I hear the voice of angels
a conversation with a friend
I showed her a poem
she read between the lines
silence said more the words
a beginning perhaps
silence said more than words
she read between the lines
I showed her a poem
a conversation with a friend
I

Poem for The Black Hills

They bore the winds of time
as they rose from arid lands.
They sun poked past one peak
while my work crew waited
to move to another place on the highway,
and we knew the day would fade.
We knew
highways must always be mended
and the same with our lives.
We spoke in hushed voices
among these hills
made when the earth shifted.
Somewhere beyond rested
a

My Last Day in Ogalala

Road work had been finished
for the winter on an asphalt strip
north of town near a nature preserve.
I said good-bye to the hotel owner
and he invited me back
although the town was a lifetime away
from my home. We shook hands.
The town wore its history well
with a façade of an old west town
complete with a jail and post

Rain and Sun

with a touch of rain and sun
the lawn has come to life

spring has brought forth
times of growth and times to mow

a soft breeze whispers to me
there are times to love and times to be alone

there are times to love and times to be alone
and every day I live and die

but a lawn that is cared

Gathering of Poets

The first Wednesday of the month
we sit around the table and share
poems written with care and revised.
We take in their shapes and forms
and read between the lines.
We gasp with wonder about creations
and search for other words
to make each verse stronger.
Each of us has written volumes by now
the lives we shared month-by-month.
A retired lawyer has returned
from

Around the Next Turn

The sun my awakening
a strip of asphalt shimmers
off somewhere in Nebraska
hundreds of miles from home.

Sandhills seen for the first time
I look at them with eyes of a child
but my body aches
as life springs forth
from underground streams.

Center lines are being painted
an arduous day of work promised
it always arrives too soon
but serene skies stretch to endless horizons.

My

The Traveler Card

It could have been a jester
wrapped in shrink wrap
or a prince who danced
who spoke to me.
To go or stay
I didn’t know.
I didn’t know
as I drove to see a friend—
we’d just worked together
at a store but she left.
I followed the signs
to a new place.
I couldn’t get her
out of my mind.
Trees and parks
and rows of houses
rolled past

as we metamorphose

light through window as I awaken
my shoulder aches but I raise my arm
branches in full bloom reach for the sky
everything looks the same
but my heart knows something’s different
my ears ring but lines run through my head
before opening the laptop and writing a poem
morning stillness but the roommate’s cat comes to me
it’s comfort I seek after

The Song is my Superpower

I’ve Just Seen a Face
my first selection
I become more than I am
for the contest
I sing without the prompts
and make the lyrics mine.
I'm happy to have the day off.
Neon lights shine in the window
as other patrons watch
and someone throwing darts
pauses to take a look.
Free deli sandwiches
and chips on a table—
a special night to partake.
My second, Lady

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

If you don’t like the weather
wait five minutes and it will change.

A pitcher has pitched a shutout—
he is a hero.

You can bet
he’s talked about everywhere.

Somewhere something is on sale—
it was marked up the first day.

A song in the background rocks
but it is lost in haste.

A stitch in time saves nine
but old blue jeans are thrown

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