Author name: Steve Lawrence

Cowboys and Indians
Poetry

Cowboys and Indians

Cowboys and Indians   To Evans, Dale, And Rogers, Roy From every American Girl and Boy Who dared to sing the song They said was true.   We chose our sides  To make a stand, And, six-guns blazin’ In each hand We raced the Indians To the passes Took some names, Kicked some asses   And knowin’ that This war was won, Rode into The  settin’ sun Singin’ happy trails to you.

Regret
Poetry

Regret

Regret It is Written: “The Gift is the Blessing of the Giver” What frigid wind Blows through our souls When eternity reaches out To us   What blessing Or curse For mortals Who know For only fleeting Moments The marvelous Gift Of life   And that Gift Spent, wasted Daily discarded Without Thought of love For another Or remembrance Of the Giver Of all Blessings.

Song of Love
Poetry

Song of Love

Song of Love Come, walk with me Into these hills Crowned With golden daffodils Where dogwoods blossom In the spring And all of Natures Creatures sing To each, Their song Of Love.   Come, witness Summers Cloak of green That covers every Living thing; A carpet spread From peak to peak And every valley In between.   See swirling winds Send Autumns leaves Spiraling down Toward the ground In hues and tones Of golden brown.   Watch Winter snows Hide Autumns leaves As barren trees Lift up their limbs In silent prayer For days of sun To bring the songs Of Spring again And let another Year begin.   Come, walk with me Along these trails And learn the secret They reveal That Winter, Summer Spring or Fall, Every walk Is worth it all: Natures gift of Peace on Earth.

to wipe or not wipe
Poetry

To Wipe or Not Wipe

PH Watson Augusta in August, a hundred degrees Brought PH Watson down to his knees   No wishes for pars or birdies, instead Just give him a towel to wipe his wet head.   But, wait, the smell from this dirty old rag, Almost enough as to make a man gag,   This towel is stained with large spots of yellow Why, this rag is covered with dirty cat piddle!   To wipe, or not wipe, just what would you do If such a poor choice should be handed to you.   As to PH Watson, that man among men He wiped, and wiped and then wiped again!

I Leap
Poetry

I Leap

I Leap Summer’s sun had heated the mountain boulders.  I feel the warmth seeping up as well as the sun shining down.  The slight breeze blowing into me brings the first smell of prey. My stomach signals the hunger I have been feeling for several days.  My tail twitches back and forth.  My shoulder muscles bunch in anticipation.  I feel my claws extend. Below, the prey is unaware and closing.  I see the juncture of head and neck.  My mouth opens and I can sense the killing bite and taste the hot gush of blood.  Time slows as I creep toward the edge of the rock.  I leap!

Fleeing Birds
Poetry

Changes

CHANGES My Soul is tossed Upon the winds Of endless change. I fear it’s lost.   Like fleeing birds before a storm, I seek a safe refuge from harm.   Where now the earth that centered me As I must face Eternity? 

Glowing Pearls
Poetry

Reservations Only

RESERVATIONS ONLY Some things reserved Not signs On tables Not pasted On labels Just deserved.   Some things seen Not daylight bright Not hiding from light Just shining; a sheen Only observed By those deserving.   Opals delight Diamonds spray light But pearls only glow In golden moonlight.

Father
Poetry

Fathers Time

FATHERS TIME Time Passes slowly And gently Crowds together Into weeks, Months, years, Without you.   Memories remain, Bright, crisp, clear, Of other days, Thoughts, Never forgotten Fathers time.

Ancient Curse
Poetry

Ancient Curse

ANCIENT CURSE By the blood Of ancient warriors Wasted on the battlefield. By the sword The cross The dagger By the Lion On Haralds’ Shield.   May the morning Never find you May the sun be black As night   May your life Always remind you Of your cowardice In flight   You betrayed Those armed Around you, Who befriended you Before   T’would be best That you Would end you Saving us That ugly chore.   Go you forth Into the darkness Turn your face From friend and foe There is none Who now Will know you From this time Hence evermore.

Wedding Vows
Poetry

To Have And To Hold

TO HAVE AND TO HOLD Before the morning Breaks the dark I reach to touch you As you lay.   So near in space, So far apart. In dreams, perhaps, You wish to stay.   Yet, at my touch You fold to me In ways that we So long have done.   Those perfect hugs Of symmetry That makes us more And less than one.   Together, silent , Still, we lie And let our love Light up the sky.

A Walk With Death
Poetry

A Walk With Death

A Walk With Death I walked along with Death a lonely while And never saw the sight of frown or smile   I could not tell if it was he or she And wondered why it chose to walk with me.   I did not feel the least of fright or fear At walking for so long with Death so near   It came to me so suddenly, I knew That even Death could feel this lonely, too.   So, side by side, we trod  the road ahead, One mortal and the ancient God of Dead.   And, when at last, the road was split in twain I took the one more traveled by a man.   Death gave the slightest wave, as if to say, “We’ll walk this way again another day, For every road not taken will in time Return for me to claim that which is mine.”  

Falling Star
Poetry

Falling Star

FALLING STAR I saw a falling star once, and younger then I didn’t question when or how it fell or from where or why it came this far to fall just for me to see.   But, older now with thoughts of galaxies and cosmology  plasma mixed with neutron flux   muddles the black holes of my thoughts and denies me the joy of seeing a shining light sent just for me to see.   I wish that I could see another falling star.

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