Details |
Steven Olson Poem
There was a time you were in each of my dreams. That time was long, long ago.
A gentle breeze blown on a warm summer day brings you to mind, even though...
Even though you had left me, leaving me a heart broken.
When no word was spoken my dream came to an end.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Blow on soft wind, bring her to mind once again...Memories of love, long ago.
A gentle touch blessed with a glance from her eyes told me that she loved me so.
We loved more than a lifetime, and lived more than each moment.
Moments melt to memories, like snowflakes in the sun.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Goodbye soft breeze; leave me alone once again. Gone is my love, long ago.
No more a voice, whispering words soft and kind. From once cheerful eyes tears now flow.
How will I find another? Who could ever replace her?
Oh --- the empty feeling! Like space.... so void and cold.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Goodbye my love -- I cannot live in my dreams... Dreams of a love, long ago.
Copyright © Steven Olson | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Olson Poem
RAIN
Burly, barreling, bellowing, blowing
Floating, fleeting, flying high
Slowing sailing, slipping, slumbering
Painting pictures in the sky
Rumbling, roaring, raining droplets
flying, faintly falling down
daintly, delicately, deftly descending
lightly lighting on the ground
Teeny, tiny, tender flowers
Happy, healthy, home is dust
growing, glowing, glaring colors
mining moisture midst the crust
Copyright © Steven Olson | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Olson Poem
I THINK that I shall never see
A bug as ugly as a flea.
A flea whose chewing mouth is prest
against the doggie’s hairy chest;
A flea that bites the beast all day,
And lifts its bristled legs to prey;
A flea that will in summer tear
a bloody hole where doggie’s bare;
Upon whose body germs abound;
and parasites throughout are found
Pets are kept by fools like me,
But God knows I despise the flea.
Copyright © Steven Olson | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Olson Poem
I think that I shall never see
A bug as ugly as a flea.
A flea whose chewing mouth is prest
against the doggie’s hairy chest.
A flea that bites the beast all day,
And lifts its bristled legs to prey.
A flea that will in summer tear
A bloody hole where doggie’s bare.
Upon whose body germs abound
And parasites throughout are found.
Pets are kept by fools like me,
But God knows I despise the flea.
Copyright © Steven Olson | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Steven Olson Poem
As I began to think one day,
I wondered 'til it made me say:
"What brings to mind a thought and how
can thinking work in fleshy gray?"
Awareness that we are and do;
that I am I and you are you.
And what I read and hear and see
can add to me like 2 + 2.
A wondrous thing to think a thought--
to think "I will" or "maybe not".
We choose to be or not to be,
What not to do and what we ought.
And so my thinking left me there
in awe of how we are aware.
To wonder, ponder, meditate
creates so much that we can share
Copyright © Steven Olson | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Steven Olson Poem
I think that I shall never see
A bug as ugly as a flea
.
A flea whose chewing mouth is prest
against the doggie’s hairy chest.
A flea that bites the beast all day,
And lifts its bristled legs to prey.
A flea that will in summer tear
A bloody hole where doggie’s bare.
Upon whose body germs abound
And parasites throughout are found.
Pets are kept by fools like me,
But God knows I despise the flea.
Copyright © Steven Olson | Year Posted 2025
|