i don't go to the beach anymore
my emotions go insane when i think of the bloody footprints in the sand
the wrong decisions made are like half my body eaten by sea carnivores
the waves give me migraines to the point where my equilibrium has eczema in its whiplash
the sun melts my skin to the point of an electric shock straightjacket
if my heart was chocolate milk, i would become so pale that i would have to classify as caucasian
i went to see a seaside doctor, but all that she did was smile at the view
i went to see a specialized counsellor, but all he did was stare wonderingly at the view
i tried to make a friend, but all she wanted to do was shop for her new oceanfront condo
instead i decided to give God a try, and all he did was Listen
i want to go to the intracoastal waterway
i dig the peace and its careful directional flow
eventually lower blood pressure and ultimate Peace of Mind will lead me back to the ocean
until then, God Is Not Through With Me Yet, and i will never be done Listening To and Believing In Him....
Categories:
wonderingly, god, thank you,
Form: Free verse
What is Santa doing? The new elf asked the older ones, wonderingly.
He is collecting stars for Christmas Eve of course, they said knowingly.
What will that do? The new elf asked. His elders chuckled. You’ll see.
On Christmas eve the Elves brought out the container of stars – 333.
They released them into the night sky, so Santa could more easily see.
Understood new elf said. What can I do to help? Where should I be?
Get ready to help collect stars next year, his new friends told him lovingly.
Categories:
wonderingly, christmas,
Form: Rhyme
EXODUS AT THE LAKE
my exodus offers two paths that diverge
This is my lake, not Thoreau’s Pond
One path hugs the water to Cash Trail
The other that tugs at my heart
Will wander among old Maryland trees
I heard their voices calling to me:
Loblollies, oaks, pines, and hollies
(As if they knew I would have limited time)
Then I spy my favorite in decorated skirts
Smooth-skinned American Beech
Usually the one with more leaves through March
The end of winter, if that, in this hemisphere
Last stalwart leaves on guard, dry now, of course
Hanging … like winter muffs on nude branches
Almost transparent white and dry
As girls decorated in holiday skirts
I welcome their adornments hopefully
Among these tall, stolid witnesses
I think back when they were younger, my girls,
They would follow, wonderingly but trustingly,
Though like youth they wanted to be at the Mall;
I had so many reasons, health besides …
Trees witnessed my inward struggles, shame, love:
Witnesses to all seasons, wise through the years
Like wizards too, they quietly watch me, magically
Comforting me or healing me, most understanding
©Deo, March 27, 2005 (Beltsville, Md. USA)
Categories:
wonderingly, art, children, family, nature,
Form: Blank verse
So when he slowly descended from the hill,
with sun providing him with a blinding halo,
the other ascended and regarded him in awe.
"May I introduce myself? Hermes."
He bowed and his wild blond curls shone like gold
in the evening light.
The sheep flocked, mixed and mingled.
And watched them with mild but fleeting interest
bordering on bored.
They sat together under the tree, the one
admiring youth and golden locks,
the other admiring colors and warmth
of playing flecks of dust blowing in the
warm evening wind.
"Then who are you?" Hermes asked amazed,
while his companion, silent, only held his hand
and caressed the slender fingers.
"Where are your sheep", he wonderingly persisted.
"Follow me, and I'll show you miracles and
wishes fulfilled," his companion seductively replied.
And as he put his flute to his lips, sheep, rats and
Hermes, mesmerized, followed him, over the hills
towards the brilliant sunset.
***
January 31, 2017
Categories:
wonderingly, adventure, allegory, funny, romantic,
Form: Pastoral
‘So why are the turtles crossing the road?
My sister asked wonderingly
As each turtle would come into view.
No guarantee, but sometimes we’d see them
As we drove with Dad out of town
Checking out cows on a farm or two.
‘It’s a great mystery to me,’ I said,
‘As both sides seem really the same,
And our vision’s much better than theirs.’
‘The problem I see with crossing for turtles…
Is that they’re low and also slow
So fast autos catch them unawares.’
A nice gesture, Dad would frequently stop,
Let us scoop them up in a box
For the ‘turtle farm’ at our home place.
The grip’s important when picking them up
‘Cause turtles can scratch, bite, and pee,
Oh what a joke , … ‘turtle won the race!’
But now why does a turtle cross a road?
Perhaps he’s trolling for people?
Buggers don’t care about other side,
From industries’ leaders they take their cue,
Their mentors, short visioned and slow,
Who risk their lives to get a free ride.
Brian Johnston
July 27, 2014
Categories:
wonderingly, humor, sister,
Form: Rhyme