Category: Poems

Lilly has the softest sweater,

It keeps her feeling good,

Every morning on her way, to the ferry~

Piper is an Irish Setter,

Old man of the neighborhood,

Watching squirrels dance down the road, makes him merry~

Planes crossing the sky,

People wave “Hi”,

Asking you, “How you doin?”

We’re out on a ride,

Then come on inside,

Having some pie…

La, la-la-la-la,

La-la-la-la,

La-la-la-la.

La-la-la.

(Repeat)

We’re all having daydreams in the park at Apple Tree Cove,

Sleeping under the sun, feeling like life’s just begun,

Butterflies glide through the air, sea otters, sea otters…

Sea otters playing in the waves without a care…

La, la-la-la-la,

La-la-la-la,

La-la-la-la.

La-la-la.

(Repeat)

Tina likes to tease her brother,

His name and Sara’s written in the sand,

A big heart around them, she thinks it’s funny~

In the park sits her mother,

Playing trombone in the city band,

Sometimes she plays in the rain, but now its sunny~

Planes crossing the sky,

People wave “Hi”,

Asking you, “How you doin?”

We’re out on a ride,

Then come on inside,

Having some pie…

Mm, mm-mm-mm-mm,

Mm, mm-mm-mm,

Mm, mm-mm-mm,

Mm, mm-mm.

~FS

Dandelion,
For a season,
Bright as sunshine,
Bold and free.

With a mane,
Of tender reason,
Brass-fire dewdrops,
Shine on me.

She’s a golden child of morning,
She’s the echo on the wind,
Dandelion’s bloom so full of burning,
This life’s beauty and its end.

Dandelion,
For a season,
Bright as sunshine,
Bold and free.

Rays of hope,
Beyond my reason,
Life’s pure kisses,
Made for me.

She’s a golden child of morning,
She’s the echo on the wind,
Dandelion’s bloom so full of burning,
This life’s beauty and its end.

~FS

In a forest, deeply sighing, sits a songbird, silently~

All around him, creatures crying, not this songbird, in his tree.

In a moment, in an hour, won’t the songbird, ever sing?

Not for glory, not for power, will that songbird, ever sing.

Songbird sang, at the dawning of the morning~

Songbird sings, at the laying down of warring~

Songbird sings, for the unity of all men~

But will Songbird, ever sing again?

Was about this time, last winter, that the songbird, came to me~

Like an angel, from a picture, with a warning, in my sleep.

I would tell you, if he let me, what he told me, while I slept~

The truths, that songbird told me, are all things, for which I’ve wept.

Songbird sang, at the dawning of the morning~

Songbird sings, at the laying down of warring~

Songbird sings, for the unity of all men~

But will Songbird, ever sing again?

There’s a fault line, running through us, right through every human heart~

With a power, to consume us, or a love, for a fresh start.

There’s a songbird, in the forest, and he waits there patiently~

Will he sing again, there for us, or will he sit there, silently?

Songbird sang, at the dawning of the morning~

Songbird sings, at the laying down of warring~

Songbird sings, for the unity of all men~

But will Songbird, ever sing again?

But will Songbird, ever sing again?

But will Songbird, ever sing again?

Will Songbird, ever sing again?

~FS

Molly O’Shea was a bonny lass,

And the pride of the Emerald Isle.

With long flowing locks which fell ‘pon her breasts,

And a face that made every man smile.

Molly was wild from the time she was a child,

Untamed as the wind running free.

But it were my foolish heart, right from the start,

That were captured when Molly smiled at me.

For a lifetime I’d chased her, and caught her, and lost her,

Once I’d hold her then I’m left all alone.

Well, that’s what I get from Molly’s body made of flesh,

But her heart which is surely made of stone.

Oh hey, Molly O’Shea.

Hey ho, please don’t go!

Oh hey, Molly O’Shea.

Hey hey, why won’t you stay?

Molly; she’s granite to me now, boys,

She’s just like granite to me now.

When Molly reached the marrying age,

I asked her to be my bride.

We drove into the country, she leaned over to kiss me,

Swiped my wallet and most of my pride.

Years later we finally met at the altar,

Her Pa said she must settle down.

We exchanged our vows, moved into town,

Then she left me and my head spinning round.

Oh hey, Molly O’Shea.

Hey ho, why did you go?

Oh hey, Molly O’Shea.

Hey hey, why won’t you stay?

Molly; she’s granite to me now, boys,

She’s just like granite to me now.

After raising three kids, can you believe it, we had ’em,

Molly told me that she loved me a lot.

Her words brightened my day and lightened my heart,

Then she left me again right on the spot.

Time passed, it were very late in the day,

While Molly sat by my side.

She said it was time she’d be going away,

She smiled at me, then went and died.

Oh hey, Molly O’Shea.

Hey ho, please don’t go!

Oh hey, Molly O’Shea.

Hey hey, I wish you could stay!

Molly; she’s granite to me now, boys,

She’s just like granite to me now.

Then they came and they carried away,

My sweet lovely Molly O’Shea.

They buried her, and placed a stone on her head,

Always leaving me when she’s alive or she’s dead.

Molly; she’s granite to me now, boys,

She’s just like granite to me now.

~FS

Some days seem rough before they start, my father used to say~

Son drag your bum up off that couch, before it gets away.

This world can be right cruel it’s true, the rest is up to you~

Lace up your boots, put on a smile, it’s time to see it through.

Stand strong my son,

God’s will be done,

It’s only for a day.

The evils of this present age~

Shall soon be swept away.

So when this world appears too much,

Too much to carry on~

Step back, stop and breathe,

And chat a while~

And have a cup of tea.

Sit and have a cup of tea.

Ah, sit and have a cup of tea…

Just have a cup of tea.

~FS

A spring baptism for the mind,

is like opening all the windows,

letting fresh breezes in,

as sunlight warms the crown,

and brightens all the corners,

washing past pains clean away.

~FS

Or whimper into the dead of night, late, when everyone is sound asleep, or should be sleeping, when I should be sleeping, but how, when visions of destruction dance like shrapnel in my head, images of little girls, their fathers reaching up under their skirts, traumas too sad to hear, to see, like young men forced to fight in wars that have no end, that should never have begun, blown to pieces, holding pieces of themselves together with duct tape and baling wire, hoping to see their mothers once again, hoping they won’t come apart before it’s too late, before they can make it home again, when home is taken by somebody else, when home is under a bridge, too much money for anyone to afford, to stagger, to gasp, to scream and run away, into the mountains if we’re lucky, where the wind blows savagely and wild animals hunt us, but better to be hunted by the wolves than by other men, giving and taking blows, never ending, demanding, lying and taking, taking, taking all that might have been sacred, breaking through the doors of  our churches with fabulous tales, promises of safety, secular fantasies that replace ancient orthodoxies, progressive delusions that supplant traditions beloved for millennia, a farewell to trust and faith, capitulating to a fear that hides within masks, pretenses of love and harmony, parading like neighbor’s, like Christians, betraying, Christians, each other, themselves, betraying, betrayal, the seeds of terror, of night-sweats, of nowhere to turn, nowhere to trust, nowhere to believe, our sacred institutions prostituted, prostituting, despicable and filthy, beauty corrupted by betrayal, this is the stuff of nightmares, dead-ends, sorrows and loneliness. I remember the beautiful places where we gathered together, apart from the world, where we worshipped and made our home, home away from home, sojourning in hope of a more perfect future, before confusion, coercion, good intentions and hell disguised within cloaks of light bastardized our communion, how can we not wail now, even years later, after so many years of deceit, lying to ourselves and each other, believing the lies, telling the lies and consuming them like an unholy Eucharist, peeling our masks down to taste the sacred through deceptive teeth, tongues that lap up treachery and deception, breathing the holy air through N-95s, self-satisfied, primitive, raising the banner of our tribe, proving our allegiance, our loyalty to the world, trampling on the still small voice that whispers truth into our ears. Howl at the loss of everything we loved, the betrayal of whole societies, peoples, families, congregations turning their backs on one other and on what once was, which is no more, and cannot be regained, never found, lost forever, until death do us part, and we are restored in darkness, into a different world.

~FS

His tender eyes spoke,

To man, as to a little child,

In the dawning of the morning,

So fair and clear and bright.

Bathed in sunlight,

Walking on new-born earth,

With chubby feet washed clean,

With eyes gazing straight and true.

Not turning away~

Either from the glare,

Or from the shadow,

But seeing it all,

While He watched over.

Yet as the sun climbed higher,

Men gave their eyes to others,

Gazing as through clouded eyes.

With trust in trust misplaced,

And with love of love erased~

With words of blooming sweetness,

Loyal to their dim heart’s weakness.

Until Spirit intervened,

Interceding our salvation,

Mediating revelation,

Through a nativity reborn.

A mother of clear vision,

He raised our eyes to His,

And lit the heart on fire,

And spoke again the Word,

That freed us from each other.

~FS

Tender shoot, run, run away,

Make your tracks soft, tender bunny,

Run, run away, by the light of the moon,

Into the deep of night you must go,

Escape far, far from home—

Run from your home, frightened bunny,

Come into my arms, I’ll hold you,

I’ll keep you safe from harm,

Lean into me and I’ll hold you,

I’ll kiss your furrowed brow—

A morning mist enshrouds you,

Like laughter falls from the sky,

Erases the tears that bound you,

Our hands interlaced,

Yours and mine—

Here we are in the middle of the night awake,

A walk to the bathroom in the dark,

Feeling our way through doorways,

Trying not to fall, trying not to hurt,

Like an eternity is our brief passage,

Starting so slowly and ending too quickly,

Eons we slept unbothered in shadow,

In the middle of this night we are awakened,

Yawning and startled we stand,

Playing our part, while yearning for sleep,

We can’t seem to sleep, why can’t we sleep?

Now is our time to shine—reluctantly—

Unwilling to lay down this script,

We stride the stage to the applause,

Or is it only the toilet running?

Is that the world clapping for us,

Or is it simply the water flowing?

Pause and reflect upon this sweet moment,

While you are awake and cannot sleep.

Rub your eyes and do not yearn too much,

Sleep will come again to close them.