FRUIT of the VINE.....

Fruit of the Vine

Red or White is just fine

fill my glass with fruit of vine

Please come to my party

I'm waiting, I'm ready

with naked grape yesterday born

you can do nothing wrong

except drive home in a mess

while forgetting your address

Red or White is just the thing

to distract you from everything

like news unreal from the media

So much garbage they feed ya

Lying lips that spread nonsense

assault me while I sit on the fence

and eat my breakfast instead of lunch

while laziness accompanies me at brunch

The pain of pleasure is easy to know

when sipping a nice Bordeaux

It flushes thoughts away

during the afternoon party

and with Einstein hair and caveman thoughts

the reality of life is never caught

existence does not seem real

till death you begin to feel

When you are the focus in the casket

with soul departed and heart at rest

center of attention to all

as whispers are heard from those who called

their muffled coughs and silent teardrops

combined with all the flowery props

THEY WILL SAY, HE DID JUST FINE

HE DRANK ALL SORTS OF WINE

Retrospection...

Retrospection

I seem to recall best

Past moments spent in nakedness

Those yesterdays filled with lovely things

Like sensual lips in sunshine glowing

Moments mind etched long ago

Experiences that flowed into

The bottomless well

that exists in my head

Visions of future me

when tomorrow I tried to see

Temptations without pleasure

were a waste by any measure

I remember soft lips whispering

naked motion of flesh clashing

Time that elapsed by seconds and hours

the smell of fresh cut flowers

Relentless bloom of memory

recalling past history

Someday I'll forget these times past

and in confusion I'll most likely bask

Winter Rain.....revision #2

Winter Rain

Cold rain rolls down the window pane

It pauses momentarily on its journey

to the welcoming sill of the window frame

it streaks the clear glass along its way

while appearing to defy gravity

beneath winters frosty clear sky

Then, it suddenly turns into crystal reality

that reflects a dome of towering evergreens nearby

The glass-like droplets gather in pools

they cast a glittering spell

under the approaching twilight cool

captured within the puddles frozen shell

'Tis a time for waking dreams

where bushes powdered with snow

border the forest and fields

while the alert deer, I've come to know

stand like statues frozen still

ears twitching, brown eyes staring

at the silver rushing rill

alert for any signs of predators approaching

February rain sprinkles the glass

and dances on the frozen ground

while I notice the slow-motion of time pass

framed in rivulets that course down

creating ornamental displays

that glisten and retain elusive time

embodied in their existential ways

and for me, that's just fine

Shafts of Light....

Shafts of Light

Shafts of light everywhere

fill our placid neighborhood air

while established freedom and liberty

are the pathway-light for all to see

Spears of glittering gold

guard our Nation from the cold

and reveal a brightness

hiding within the societies forest

Shafts of light in the stillness

stab through the velvet darkness

they pierce the emptiness well

that resides in partisans heads

the closed minds of intolerant times

prevail in these degenerate climes

while high up, the blazing orb

shines warmth on us all

Shafts of light illuminate

and reveal the Nations hate

as the breath of freedom born in guilt

blooms like a desert rose and wilts

unable to absorb life giving light

that shines in societies might

this loveliness unnoticed lying in the dust

could have stirred our human lust

Shafts of light warm the floor

having not entered through the locked door

they shine through cracks in window shades

retain their fiery blaze

and await freedom gained

that will ease their individual pain

However, those shafts of light plunge deeper

till dispersed and rendered weaker

their purpose scattered in the dust

their hopes lost in windblown gusts

until the spark of hope barely glows

and a weakened voice hardly echoes

in the depths of despair

they remain unheard in freedoms rarefied air