Short Leeward Poems

parched
deprived
rainshadow
of leeward side
the difference clear
craving the rain
but mountains
don't move
scorched...

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~~~
The pitch o' night her captain feared
her leeward pending doom

November's raging breath
ensnared
to daunting reef she loomed

Her belly shattered
pitched and gorged
as raging swells
reclaim

The drift of break
flew
blizzard cold
~
Come Sail Away...
her name
~...

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Ambush of a lie
North wind does it lie?
Or south leeward it lay?
Where does it lie?

Mounting evidence lying east 
A peaking testament laying west 
Gusty lies besiege down the crest
Why do Liars conspire against the honest?

Truth grazed in the valley
Squally lies ruffled the prairie
A Liar lurking trapped veracity
Oh how Liars hunt for morality...

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The future lies unwritten on
the blankest, blankest page.
I’m born today and, safe to say,
on track to boundless age.

At anchor in a harbor on
the leeward side of time,
engaged in making love to verse,
in making beauty rhyme--

the heart has placed before the eyes
what Gods of hope have borne,
a well of sweet serenity--
and love like summer morn....

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Outside the wind screams and moans. The snow on the ground joins forces with the snow in the air, taking flight across the frozen landscape until, out of breath, it falls in piles on the leeward side of some barn or berm or wall, resting there, awaiting the next gust to shape it. Inside we pull the covers closer, thankful for winter sheets. Warm, soft, fuzzy and comforting. Not the cool, cold, slippery sheets of summer. Winter sheets....

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She came aboard my sinking ship
a death blow to the bow,
attempts to bail and keep afloat
this mariners tattered sails.

Plot a new course and navigate
in storms and angry seas,
this vessel lists in the swells
life plundered by piracy.

Now this new maidens charge
is to steer starboard side,
for a new sheltered port 
with rising tides.

This once scuttled ship
ill winds cast adrift,
is now tacking leeward
this sailors gift!...

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Perhaps in that angry sea,
no, why would you want to join me
- so close the eroding shore;
a faltering ship, that in its hold
heavy cargo of the past
tosses and rattles about?

No, if you were to join me,
how, through this small scuttle
could two hearts fit with
the stores of many years entwined?

But, your song draws me
to a leeward stillness
in the shadow of a friendly isle
where I need not struggle for the helm
- perhaps I can let go ... with you,

should I?...

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