The mysterious wind chimes
Swinging from the curtain rods
Turns and twinkles, as it tinkles
Then it spins around and nods.
Sending sunlit magic circles
Dancing like a lass
Freed by sunshine and the wind
Escaping from the painted glass.
Striking tiny dainty notes
Singing happily
Doing jigs and keeping time
Composing melodies.
“For Sale – As Is,” read the realtor’s ad,
“Furnishings Included,
Beautiful Home, Magnificent View,
Private and Secluded!”
With interest, I approached the house,
Neglected, of course, and run-down,
Cobwebs and spiders, mouse tracks and mice,
And layers of dust all around.
The realtor said she was ‘sorry,’
She had not seen this place before,
Her orders had come in the mail,
“Sell the house – as is” … nothing more.
Distaste for the place showed on her face,
But I smiled and said, “I’ve seen worse,”
“Well, I haven’t,” she said, with disgust,
Her voice sarcastic and terse.
Wainscoting and woodwork – yellowed with age,
Hand-carved banisters – broken and cracked,
Floors – moaning and groaning under our weight,
Brass fixtures – discolored and black.
But all around, clues could be found
This once was a house that was prime,
Though it had had no loving care,
For a very long, long time,
A grand staircase swept up from below,
Elaborate in marble and teak,
Time and grime may have stolen its shine,
But there it stood … still proud and unique.
Then next a great room with huge windows,
Surely a ballroom meant for a dance,
Its draperies, musty and dusty,
Yet displaying an old elegance.
A chandelier hung from the ceiling,
Though archaic, it welcomed the light,
It gleamed a bit when the sunshine hit,
Thus proving it still had a life.
I closed my eyes and saw ladies in gowns,
And men in full dress, bowing low,
I heard a lively tune that filled the room,
And caught myself tapping my toe.
I saw children on the banisters,
I heard them giggle sliding by,
I saw them racing one another
Up the stairs for one more try.
The pictures in my mind persisted,
This abandoned place was once a home,
Love, warmth, and cheer one time were here,
Though now it was cold and alone.
“I’ll take the house!” I blurted out,
The realtor was struck dumb,
“Yes, I know what I am doing!”
She stood there, startled and stunned.
The price was right; the deed was done,
My name went on the dotted line,
We shook hands; she left in haste,
I guess for fear I’d change my mind.
I looked about and made a vow,
I swore I would revive this place,
Too much still alive in here,
Not time to go or be replaced.
I had the needed tools to use,
Soap and water … and elbow grease,
But most of all what I possessed
Was a wondrous dream that would not cease.
From laughing children on a staircase,
To dancing feet on polished floors,
From opened curtains at big windows,
To sunshine streaming in galore.
The poor realtor no way could see
The same house that I saw,
She only used her eyes to look,
So, she could not see it all.
Thus, to see things best, I must suggest
One employ all one’s faculties,
Not just one’s eyes to look around,
But use one’s heart to fully see.
Inside of the box
Were coils and springs,
And other intricate,
Marvelous things.
When wound very tight,
The music would start,
Steady and strong,
Like a pulsating heart.
Beginning with determined air,
Yet sounding, delightful and soft,
Like wind-blown chimes or tiny bells,
Tinkling from aloft.
Dependable, little music box,
Playing out its tune,
Wanting to continue on,
Wanting not to end too soon.
Struggling now for melody,
Are there no more notes to play?
Just one more note is all we seek,
Just one more note, we pray.
We watch and wait and wait and watch,
For those last and final tones,
But too late – they had been played,
And we hadn’t even known.
These squares – right here – the blue ones,
Came from one of Papa’s shirts,
His favorite, heavy denim one,
Which he often wore to work.
How many times Mom patched it,
‘Til there was nothing left to fix,
Papa wore it ’til it fell apart,
Mom salvaged just these bits.
Over here – oh, look at this,
See that little spot of plaid,
Oh, I remember that so well,
Part of a scarf that I once had.
It was a snowy day in winter,
I recall I wasn’t very old,
I started out the door for school,
And it was freezing, icy cold.
Grandma handed me that scarf,
She took it from her shoulder,
She wrapped it snugly around my neck,
To keep me from getting colder.
And this yellow swatch – oh my,
See the tiny flowers,
‘Twas from a dress my Mama made,
She worked on that for hours.
It became her favorite dress, I think,
She wore it all the time,
Papa liked it on her, too,
He used to tell her she looked fine.
Of course, she wore it near to threads,
It got to be a family joke,
We teased about which would go first,
Its bodice or its yoke.
This red square makes me laugh out loud,
I never saw it worn,
It came from Grandpa’s underwear,
Which he wore winters to keep warm.
They don’t make red flannels any more,
I think we miss a treat,
They call them thermal garments now,
And they have polyester seats.
See that sort of fuzzy square,
Right there – at the side,
That was part of Buffy’s blanket,
He’d crawl under it and hide.
He hid his balls and rubber toys,
Underneath that blanket, too,
Oh, how he barked with doggy joy,
When he pulled his treasures out to chew.
This quilt was built with bits of love,
Mama said it represents our lives,
Our entire family history,
Now within its folds, resides.
She said one day it would be mine,
And that I should pass it on,
After adding patches of my own,
Of my chintzes and cretonnes.
And when my daughter gets the quilt,
To warn her of its age,
She should treat it gently with respect,
For it is her heritage.
If only for a moment
Magic will appear
Take you to a special place
Where laughter’s all you hear
Where moon and stars are dancing
Where light has special glow
Where candle lights will flicker
With soft and gentle flow
Where eyes are all upon us
That watch with greatest care
Where breath of life will enter
Refill our hearts to share
Moments of these pleasures
They reach inside our souls
To have to hold forever
Through magic we find gold
If I were just a pair of shoes,
I’d want to be on you
For I would cushion all your steps
And hug your feet, I’d do.
Yet, If I were a simple comb,
I’d be yours if I could.
I’d fondle every hair with care,
I’d be your pet, I would!
But if I were a sweet perfume,
I’d rest behind your ear,
And I would be the sweetest scent
And cherish you, my dear.
But if I had a choice to be
A very special thing,
I’d be a kiss upon your lips,
T’would make my spirit sing.
There are so many things to be,
But each I’d choose for you,
So I could touch or be a part
Of everything you do.
If Mothers today
Were given the power,
World turmoil would fade
Within the hour.
And those little boys
Who dress up in men’s suits
Would lose all their toys,
And their titles, to boot.
They’d be ordered to sit
In chairs facing the wall,
To not move a bit.
Nor cry out or call.
Told to think of their loved ones,
Their families and friends,
And the wrong that’s been done
By cruel, thoughtless, old men.
War games played by children
Aren’t the same for adults,
No real bullets then,
No disastrous results.
Not a soul dies,
No one loses a limb,
No mothers cry,
And no minds are dimmed.
But now small men,
In expensive suits,
Need to grow up,
And face the truths.
To start counting their blessings,
And searching their souls,
To forget window dressings,
And re-think their goals.
How dare they decide
That others must fight?
Who’ll live and who’ll die?
What gives them such right?
Oh, you grown-up men,
With your small boy minds,
This nonsense should end,
It’s common sense time.
Get up from those chairs,
Turn around and shake hands,
Show signs that you care,
Cut out stupid shams.
What one sows, one will reap,
Hate’s not good for one’s soul.
Conversation is cheap,
Communication is gold.
Your mothers were right,
When you were small lads,
If you get into a fight,
Don’t go to bed mad.
Kiss and make up,
Before the sun sets,
So if one doesn’t wake up,
There’ll be no regrets.
Mothers are wise,
Don’t sell them short,
They make apple pies,
And give hugs for support.
Put Mothers in charge,
Let them hold the rudder,
Their instructions aren’t hard,
“JUST LOVE ONE ANOTHER!”
Soft whispers of fragrance touch my flesh in the night
As I walk through the garden of sexual delight
Each flower I pass touches gently on me
Pressing the petals of softness I see
Colours of passion swim through my thoughts
As I touch every leaf that I pass in the dark
An aura of softness, A cocoon covers me
I feel my heart pound as I look through the trees
Adonis lies hidden in a foliage of green
With arms stretched toward me and a body so lean
Transfixed by his beauty, a chill down my spine
I walk to his arms and I know he is mine
Reflections
Our lives are running
Side by side
On different roads
Yet we reside
Within one home
A friendship place
To share a magic
Time and space
We keep in touch
With much to share
And in the quiet
We know we care
Our separate hearts
Are somehow one
Like a reflection
In the sun
My friend, your soul has touched my life
Your heart has made mine smile
My spirit gladly walks beside you
A gift I have a little while
I see a star
You make it new
I know you not
Yet always knew
My every thought
Finds yours there too
So much our visions
Share a view
I guess they call
It destiny
When strangers find
A rendezvous
When you bring out
The best in me
And I reflect
The best in you
See the mist upon the Rose
So rich this velvet dew
Creation of this masterpiece
Is now within our view
Petals folded graciously
Then reaching like a prayer
Miracle of beauty’s light
Within each flower fair
Colors of the softest glow
Brings calmness so serene
Scent of love that lingers on
Such beauty we can glean
Soft the flower of all love
That gives a gift so pure
Single rose within your life
Perfection to be sure
Nature gives us special Rose
To heal a broken heart
Make us smile and give us joy
What blessing it imparts
Here’s a Rose I give to you
With love and peace I send
Petals of a velvet Rose
With love that never ends.
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