Childhood

I remember a time when everything was happy,

when the world was at peace and nothing could go wrong,

when the prospects of a new day brought endless bliss –

the pathways of life were open for my exploration.

I remember how much better an ice cream tasted

melting luxuriously on the tongue

eaten sprawled on the sidewalk,

chatting over who knows what,

watching the cars go by.

I remember a world full of adventure

where you never knew what was behind the next door

and the wonders of life were just waiting –

waiting to be discovered.

I remember my childhood.

Relaxation

I lay on my back and watched the sky

And watched the clouds as they drifted by

And dreamed, and dreamed, and closed

My eyes – toward relaxation I strived

But somehow, today, I wasn’t relieved

For I never saw sweet Bliss’s face

Or felt her glory my presence grace

At times like this, I must admit

I often breathe deep and catch a whiff

Of her delicate perfume on the breeze

Before the scent drifts away again

But each time it happens, of this I’m sure;

That meeting her so briefly

Only sweetens it all the more.

A Quiz in Frazee’s

The epitome of intense concentration,

he bends his head, staring with hopeful eyes.

Maybe the answer will reveal itself

if he only looks long enough –

the scrutiny of a failing student

on the final exam –

but, no matter how he coaxes it,

the vocabulary fairy

refuses to whisper in his ear.

The Glance

The meeting of eyes across a crowded room

somehow starts a fire deep in your soul –

Your heart beats faster, erratically,

as you wonder –

“Did he look at me?

Was that it?

Did that quick glance

show his undying love?”

Then he turns back to what he was doing –

talking to someone, writing something,

and you feel your heart crack

straight down the middle

irreparably

The Sunrise

Soft rays of light creep

slowly over the heavens,

the fingers of a baby

awakening from a long sleep,

stretching as he moves;

they spread across the sky

in a spectrum of radiance,

becoming ever brighter.

Steadily, carefully, gold

edges the trees and mountains

as though God himself

is painting the universe –

and maybe,

just maybe,

He is.