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Here is a selection of six poems from my soon-to-be published poetry book

Water from a Deeper Well




Just enough passing
And all I love
Will be no more
Will exit
Through an unseen door
Gone from its place
Into the distant yonder.

Just enough passing
And all my passions
Burning bright
Will fade
Into their last goodnight
Though now I hold them
Dear and tight
The future brings "I wonder..."

Just enough passing
And memories
Will fade away
Bittersweet blurs of yesterdays
In second childhood
I will play
Awaiting distant thunder.

Just enough passing
And the sun will not
My shadow cast
I'll be a remnant of the past
Only what legacy I leave
Will last
Tomorrow's child to ponder.

© 1997 - Hobo Mountain Publishing.



THE CELLIST    (For Daniel.)


The cellist bowed a single tone
It lingered in the air
And resonated in my soul
A captive tear
The melancholy note he played
Stirred memories within
Oh, how I ached for long ago
And how things might have been

Sometimes I find I'm caught again
Just a word, a look, a soft refrain
And the open wound I carry starts to bleed
Free falling endlessly it seems
The way I often do in dreams
And all at once I feel so much in need

Oh those little ice cold fingers
As in snowy grace they lie
You'd think I would forget them
As the years go drifting by
They say some hurt can make you cry
That some can make you want to die
Or linger with you by and by
Buried too deep for tears

Yet...sometimes I find I'm caught again
Just a word, a look, a soft refrain
And the open wound I carry starts to bleed
Free falling endlessly it seems
The way I often do in dreams
And all at once I feel so much in need

And I yearn to kiss his rosy cheek
Gently hold him tight
God give you rest my darling child
Goodnight my son

© 1999 - Hobo Mountain Publishing.





The race is on

The runner runs

His stride is strong and free

He knows not where he’s going

Nor where he wants to be

He races on

He rounds the bend

Sees crossroads up ahead

But indecision slows him down

And voices spin his head

Succeed Succeed

The man in green signals he must go

But the man in amber says to wait

And he doesn’t really know

Quite what to do

And time moves on

Too late

The man in red

Has stopped the race

The flag comes down

The runner’s dead.


© 1980 Hobo Mountain Publishing.





I watch so many people
Pass every test I've failed
And in my hand hangs heavy
The hammer and the nails
As once again I crucify
My Savior to the cross
I despise my weakness
And cannot bear the loss

Oh how did I come to be in-between
The Grace of GOD, and sin?
In dreams I run t'wards Heaven's Gate
And voices mock me, "Late, too late!
The Saints have entered long ago..."
A world I fear I'll never know
Where GOD resides, and angels sing
And sinners like me can't get in.

Why so often do I stumble
Why is it that I fall?
I look inside and try to find
Some reason for it all
But I'm just a weary hobo
Wretched as can be
Who with tear-stained face
Beholds GOD'S Grace
Through Christ's blood...which sets us free.

And in my hand hangs heavy
The hammer and the nails
And in my heart contrition
For every time I've failed.
Oh, give to me that cross LORD
And let me die with Thee
In death I live, my life I give you
Here at Calvary.

 © 2002 - Hobo Mountain Publishing.





When you were conceived
I danced about with roses in my cheeks
And sang all day
And praised our GOD for privileges
Such as these
Your eyes would be blue I thought
Just like the sea
And we would grow together
You and me
Somehow I thought you knew I loved you then...

Did you feel at all in those days
Still safe within my womb
Did you hate me so very much?
You could have run away like other kids
But to die... I mean for GOD'S sake!

They sent me roses you know
When you went away
I suppose to replace the ones
I used to have in my cheeks...

© 1977 - Hobo Mountain Publishing.





Black night
Stark words upon white paper
A weary mind
Spills secrets
From the heart
Onto the page
One by one
They tumble down
My pen is over easy
And I cannot
Go back to when
Silence set the stage
Will I lose you now I wonder
Now that I have let you know
Can true friends turn into lovers
Will I have to let you go
It seemed so clear at midnight
Alone on hallowed ground
But now confusion envelopes me
And writes herself down.

 © 1986 - Hobo Mountain Publishing.



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