Of Parting Ways

To the friends we leave and those who leave us. To the people we find and those who find us.

Meeting is the sweetest sorrow,

for what we have we may lose tomorrow.

Humans have such complicated hearts -

our love is fondest when we part.

Still as this parting's drawing near

I ask you that you do not fear.

If quick we grow to be the fastest friends

it will not matter if it ends.

We'll always have the memories -

the anecdotes and stories.

Come, hurry now so we can start

our journey to the day we part.

Short Goodnight Poem IX

Another rhyming one. Reminds me of the ones I used to hear when I was a child. Enjoy and sleep tight.

Lazily gazing down,

the moon, with her crown,

laughs joyfully and free

while she's playing with the sea.

Sighing deep in slumber

the birds don't mind the thunder

just beyond the shore;

they dream of myth and lore.

Buried deep in summer grass

lies a gleaming pearl of glass.

Go to sleep and you will find

that beauty deep within your mind.

Solemn Evening Poem

This poem was inspired by a trip to the Mediterranean I took a few years ago. 'Vincero' comes from the opera song Nessun Dorma. Sometimes I ponder on war and victory, struggle and grace, and that otherwise elusive calm that comes the moments before sleep whisks you away. Goodnight everyone, sweet dreams.

I play opera

when the sun

is about to set outside.

Vincero it sings

and I think

of victory.

The last rays

give in to the night

like a sovereign

bows to another.

Gracefully.

Do we bow with grace

as we fall

from the same?

Are we with grace

as we stand

victors before the fallen?

Are we vindicated

as victors

or did the winning

make a mockery

of all?

My, but the thoughts

do take twisting turns

as darkness falls

and twilight comes

on dancing feet

that trip with gladness,

float with sadness

that invites

to sing the blues.

Short Goodnight Poem IIX

Another rhyming one. Sort of self-comfort really. Been one of those days. Enjoy.

 
The hour is late and waning yet,

the future looks blurry -nothing is set.

The day has passed, in its willful way.

The sun grows uncertain, the shadows stay.

Take comfort in knowing you tried to do good;

things will fall how they should.

Just trust in the light, you can sleep safe and tight.

There is nothing to do here tonight.

Lament of the Wizened Child

A poem on war.

Who will care for the children

when your war, when the fighting -is done?

Who will protect and deliver

when the mothers and fathers are gone?

Who ever cares about the children

when there’s call for blood in the air?

What good god would ever consider

a sacrificed child as a prayer?

Can you say that you care about innocence

while laughing at forgive and forget?

Is there not enough pity in those souls

to neglect the price of old dept?

Is there not enough room here for all of us?

Do we need so much power and space?

If you trust in your faith, let it be -warrior,

for your enemy mirrors your face.

Who will care for the children

when the last loving person is gone?

Then there will be no more children;

even your petty wars will be done.

Short Poem of the Night

Bedtime for weary souls I think. Been a hard day.
Enjoy and goodnight...

Too tired to sleep

and the fire burns.

In days to pass

much will happen, still

I wonder -

will it be worth the while?

My eyes see roads expand

and burn.

Too tired to compute.

this is heaven -

a comfy bed and a cover

for my weariness.

Short Goodnight Poem VII

It's okay to be small-

you'll grow up in a while.

It's all right to be scared,

but you don't have to worry.

I will be here, when shadows close.

I will be here, even if you don't see me.

I will be here, so you can sleep tight.

Nothing will hurt you tonight.