MEASURE

My daughter places her hand in my palm,

Singing a song with no words,

Folding my fingers around hers.

 

On this fine spring day of green and yellow,

With a breeze that does not remind me of the desert,

I watch her measure her short hand against mine.

 

She will hold the things that I have held in those hands—

A guitar, a rifle, a friend, a lover—or not.

These are my memories, the relics of choices long past.

 

Perhaps one day she will measure herself

Against an old photo, the one where I hold a rifle

On a day in the desert, with a breeze that scorches memory.

 

My daughter places her hand in my palm,

On this fine spring day of green and yellow—

I fold my memories away, and hold her hand in mine.

Simply here

Red heat rising

on my partial leather seats.

 

As White clouds dance

passing whispers through trees.

 

Filling lined pages

recalling True Blue dreams within dreams.

 

 

 

Characters

National Cathedral

Heart of a farm boy
Strength of a bull
Mind of an academic
Nobody’s fool

Body of a soldier
Aged beyond his years
Marked by many battles
Victories and fears

Losses but not defeats
Play upon his mind
Memories of lost ones
Happens all the time

Love for his country
Servant of the state
Hates how politicians
Have led him to this fate

Love for his fellow man
And intelligent discourse
Hates that modern living
Place society and logic in divorce

Playing as the Harlequin
In life’s Comedy of Art
Changing all the scenery
As he plays his part

Wit, wisdom, and slapstick
Are all part of the job
Speaking truth to power
Entertaining the mob

Slave of past and futures
Whose life and daily chore
Is in the belly of the galley
Pulling on an oar

Coxswain of the vessel
Sets the course at sea
Determines for the oarsmen
The pace to victory

Runner on a winding route
Verdant lands, brilliant skies
On a course that’s never ending
At least not until he dies

Pilgrim on a journey
To an unknown place
Following his master’s footsteps
Trying to live in grace

Characters in the greatest play
That anyone will ever see
And every part is played by him
He is also playing me

Challenge Accepted

Gate to Seoul

Your analogy- though sublime,
Fails in standing the test of time.
For attitude is just a bluff,
That withers when the game gets tough.
The King and Queen who rule divine,
Only rule a like-suited mind.
The Jack seems a tedious thing,
But rules- syntax and meter king.
A sentence well-formed ends debate,
And shifts the suits like Crazy Eights.