Baby’s wail, crisp march dawn, sister Jay born,
a glowing treasure dawned that wondrous day,
since then our firm rapport has weathered storms
In depth, laughter, tears, how we faced wild storms,
sensing one and others needs truly born,
joint life journey, each true heaven scent day.
wry slant on sibling antics, close of day,
Jay bosom spar in sun, rain, wicked storms,
on recall, peak chapters in concert born
My homage born for each rapt day, Jay, you oust storms
Queens flush both black and red
Walk inside kingdoms where seldom tread.
The blood on the spade from the dark-hearted
Spares no pain for the discarded.
Buried to the side no one sees
A Joker crying inside his conceit.
For in this game smiles are disregarded
The jovial man, now a clown, discarded.
Kings and Jacks rule over the Numbers
Unaware of such perilous slumber!
For their complacency they shall be martyred
Their blood and toil destroyed and discarded.
The High Ones stand in concert with stars
Above all, from God not so far.
With a stroke of chance be cast with the departed
Below the bottom of a grave, forever discarded.
I strolled onto a forest glade
to hear a bird in concert serenade,
but when I heard him speak,
this issued from his beak,
"I'm not the bird you seek.
Some birds with pretty voices sing,
while those of broken heart and broken wing
have no worm on which to snack.
Some birds wear colors, bright,
and look so beautiful in flight,
while the hapless hit a wall and..."smack!".
But, I'm no such bird. This inky crow
(while there are birds that don't know which way to go,
in this world of birdy woe)
won't sing like Perry Co-MO,
or flaunt the colors of the rainbow.
I am the bird in black."
My incredible!
Almost edible!
Infrared and, well,
Ultraviolet!
Full of warmth and light -
Gorgeous, timeless sight
Taking mind on flight
To the never-land.
Your blonde hair swings down
On your velvet gown -
In you voices drown,
Like in concert hall.
Unbelievable!
Inconceivable!
Sun will rise and fall
On your gorgeous soul.
My enchantress, you!
Giant eyes of blue
Like a cloud that flew
Over turquoise skies
Singing melodies
Of the galaxies
Ending fallacies
And becoming wise.
Gentle like a dove,
You are queen of love -
I can't get enough
Of your tenderness!
Goddess of the sea!
How you sing to me
How I long to be
In your soft caress!
Cherry blossom, you!
All that's good and true!
Pink and white and blue
Like a carnival,
Like a rainbow, free!
How you spell-bind me!
How I long to be
In your darling soul!
In your love I'll swim
And your voice will sing
An eternal hymn -
No regret at all!
Inexorable!
Most adorable!
Uncontrollable!
Unforgettable!
Sparks of stardust in their eyes
Tuning love into a serenade,
Arising as if the composition were prearranged
Ready for the moment of awareness,
Destiny written by the very stars~
Umbrella of the heavens,
Sheltering
Tent of beauty and perfection.
Shall we sing in concert with the universe,
Every sense imbibing wonder,
Reaping rhapsodies of melodious
Effervescent threads of angel joy~
Nubile romance keeps time with the stardust serenade,
As two roses grow into a bower,
Decades of love and laughter will not forget
Evening sparks of stardust in their eyes.
Rosebuds; break of day brightness
awakened fledglings from sleep.
A resting songbird breathes deep
from nursling black and white time
as a wisp of light prances
around scallop-trimmed leaflets,
in concert with elapsed time.
The band 3 Doors Down helped me through so many things
I saw them in concert too
They play their songs tightly in sync,
if you pay attention listening through
They are very talented, many songs
I always enjoyed to hear
Now, the lead singer died, 47 years old
Such a loss worth every tear
Heidi Sands
2/12/26
(C)opyright
For Eric Clapton
One day a friend asked
if a single note
struck by his hand
could make someone cry.
Yesterday I watched a video
of him in concert, his life
played out in a progressions
of riffs and chords as his life
played out on stage and the light
shown upon him.
I call it passion.
I call it love.
Blue lights, red lights, yellow.
O how he has lived beyond
the worst times of his life.
I admit I’ve lived hard times, too,
And to this day I admit
I look for his song.
Outside my window
a leaf turned color
falls to the ground—
and the year passes with a whisper.
The housecat sits at the top
of the stairs, while downstairs
someone stirs, but lyrics run
through my head, such passion.
My mind’s eye sees the faces
of women I loved. I’m left
with unfinished conversations.
A scant twenty years
grieved a century or more
Poetically perfect
in spirit and lore
A man and his horse
alone on the range
The cattle his instrument
and music to play
Civil War veterans and blacks
from the South
Through dust and dark clouds
even blizzards they mount
Together they battled
in concert they fought
Each unto himself
through prairies uncrossed
The hardship and death
to him worth the price
Pushing always ahead
a stranger to fright
The only thing branded
to be left at the end
Was the legend he gave us
— and the message it sends
(Cowboy Poetry Gathering: Elko Nevada, February, 2017)
Q: What is avian forensics?
A: Ornithology pathology.
Q: What's the name of Adam Levine's band when they appear in concert?
A: Maroon Five Live.
Q: What is a submarine that only goes forward?
A: An irreversible submersible.
Q: What was a really fanatical peasant in ancient Greece?
A: A zealot helot.
Q: What kind of small pet dog gets carried around in a designer handbag?
A: A Gucci poochie.
Q: What would you call a consumer review of one of Benjamin Franklin's inventions?
A: A colonial testimonial.
Q: What's another name for a woman's "muffin tops"?
A: A girdle hurdle.
Q: If characters are an author's progeny, what does that make "Dorian Gray"?
A: A Wilde child.
Q: What rules of conduct were Senators in ancient Rome supposed to follow?
A: Forum decorum.
Waiting
for the
audience
to come to him ...
He refused
to go to them
Shunning
those ears
that hide
from the truth ...
Like a rose
without its stem
Working
in concert
with Muses
above ...
What’s sacred
to remain
Each word
and its
treasure
a gift given once ...
Their measure
— to proclaim
(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)
Early, in the pre-dawn hush
I heard the robins sing,
and then a sleepy breeze awoke
and made the wind chimes ring.
Their blended notes in concert sweet
soon filled the morning air
as on horizon's stage the dawn
danced in and waited there.
In all her newfound finery,
her dress in filmy hues
of lavender and rosy pinks,
and shades of palest blue.
At last, the music died away,
and dawn, in golden gauze,
slipped off her skirts and left the stage,
to a rooster's loud applause.
VIVALDI
violins in concert- waves upon the lagoon
Only point to matter is the fulcrums peak.
As pivotal, the equilibrium we seek.
Critical mass tipped to offset sum.
Heavily shifts the weight of outcome.
Impressive pressures impart fractional distresses.
Coalesces into convoluted messes.
Broken focus binding fixation to disrepair.
Unified in the disconnection that we share.
Snapping in concert to the beat of your clique.
Adversarial dependency, "it's them who's sick".
Blind fidelity illuminates obscured perception.
Signals interference scrambles any reception.
Contrary dispositions act to characterise.
Spectrum of identity compelled to polarise.
Modalities of agency subjectional by nature
Parallel accordingly by acquisition or endenture.
She was welcomed into my house
where she entered and said…
what is that quite romantic music playing?
Oh, it is Glenn Hughes on my vinyl record player
and I showed her how it spins and plays the tunes
she was amazed
And then she asked me…
may I have this dance
to which I held her in my arms
Glenn sang and we danced
bowed and swayed, scooted and hopped
all the maneuvers of lovers
And then I looked in her eyes
and she was crying
“What is it my love”, I asked
“It is that I wish to dance with you to Glenn’s music
For all eternity, forever and a day
I don’t ever want to stop”
“But my love”, I said…
“Glenn has over 50 years of songs
We can dance through the night to all his albums”
Her tears began to dry
As she let me hold her dear tight
and she moved in rhythm and twirled in my arms
“Would you like to see Glenn in concert”, I asked
“Oh would I” she exclaimed
“Then a trip to the venue it will be”
But tonight will be with Glenn on vinyl
singing his romantic songs to us
as we so deeply embrace
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