THE BLOOMINGS OF OUR SOULS

Our souls bloom with these words.
Budding brilliance planted deep within our hearts and minds.
Nurtured and tended with the awakenings of life.
A good life made more perfect by us, the gentle gardeners,
who encourage the growth of these gifts.
The growth of our freindship.
An eternal sunshine beams forth by the glowing of our gardener's hearts.
This sunshine brightens these days
and illuminates our thoughts,
making our growth fertile,
and fruitful and productive.

Our souls bloom with thoughts of this friendship.
Thoughts brought to light
like the first flowers of Spring
as they break the earth
and show their potential.
You a gardener, cares for me
and loosens the soil around me,
and I free your roots to branch out
and allow you to grow full of life.
Full of our verbal beauty.
And we give back to each other,
the "caregivers", with a very bountiful harvest
of the bloomings of our souls.
We are the gardeners.
I bloom brilliantly with you.

Walt

APRIL'S BLUSH

Another April has come to an end

Whereby thirteen months were consumed

Pondering thoughts we’ve collectively penned

Grateful this poetic friendship has bloomed

Marie Elena

Photo by Keith R. Good

HEARTSTRINGS: TETHERS AND LIFELINES

A length of cord attaches,
wound and secured to the center
of your emotion. A stretch
to say the least, that all tied up
can keep the rest of you from unraveling,
hearts traveling at the speed of light,
second star to the right, and straight on
until morning. Without warning your senses
drop all pretenses and leave you hanging
precariously, daring to wear thread thin
and snap at the first sign of pressure and doubt.
But, therein lies the crux of your dilemma.
What had once connected to a fleeting past;
a love for a lifetime, again joins you to your
very survival and you strive to hold on,
both hands clutching and hoping for your vital signs
to be as vibrant as the day is long.
You are feeling stronger every day.
Heartstrings remain in tune; their symphony
is the song for an all-consuming love.
Hum along if the words escape you.

Walt 

BEGINNINGS

Always the instigator,
starting something at every turn,
there's so much to learn, and so little time
spent in rhyme. A fresh start,
a rejuvenation; the rebirth of heart,
a salutation to the new day.
In introduction, souls unite
doing what's right, right off the bat.
The sun rises, the journey embarks,
hearkening to the initiation
of this daily itinerary, nothing scary,
just a chance to commence with
the life to which you had been inaugurated.
Slated for greatness, starting now.
Funny how beginnings alway pick up
where endings tend to leave off.

Walt 

HAIKU

Sometimes hearts return

to their once-upon-a-time

love and hope and dreams.

Wishes for twenty five to happily-ever-after for you, my friend.

Marie Elena

HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL

It is said, where there's hope, there is life.
And life carries the promise of every new dawning.
In promise, the offer of the gift of life
is glowing with love  of a Good and Gentle nature.
Nature, like the awakening of a new spring.
And in the Ever-lasting Spring of our new life,
we will take solace in knowing that hope springs eternal.



Walt

HOPE AND CHANGE

Making a change for change sake,
is akin to shouting into the wind.
Intentions, mask the futility
of where your fire is directed.
In retrospect, nothing really
does transform. It is manipulated.
It is cajoled; a good front is placed
in front of the vile vision still seething.
Thoughts become controlling; left to
simmer and boil over again in time.
Turning a jaundiced eye to the truth.
You hope for better, but don't hold your breath!



Walt

HAIKU

Now these three remain:
faith, hope, and love. And of these,
the greatest is love.


In a sense, this is a "found poem."  1 Corinthians 13:13.  Who knew the Bible lent itself so well to haiku?
 
Marie Elena

LESS THAN FOUR

It's kinda funny, sorta
that on a day the prompt at PA
reads "More Than Five",
I'll be posting less than four
since the bullies have taken the playground.


Walt

THE HUNDRED ACRE WOOD

Behold, the Hundred Acre Wood

Where all is well, and all is good

Where no one is misunderstood

Where all work for the common good

Where friends help friends, just as they should.

Marie Elena

CAKE WALKIN' JASS BAND FROM HOME

(To the tune of Cake Walkin’ Babies from Home, by Clarence Williams, Henry Troy, Chris Smith)


Cake walkers may come, and cake walkers may go
But I wanna tell you ‘bout Cake Walkers that I know.
Well, there they were at Tony Packo’s, playin’
Weekends, all. Still should be (I’m just sayin’...)
Talk-o-the-town. Always bringin’ em down,
Packin’ the joint and bringin’ it renown
‘Til Tony balked. What was he thinkin’
When he let them go? That business move’s still stinkin’.
They’d be embraced by the riverboat fleet,
Or in the heart of jazz on Bourbon Street,
But here, not so. Not in so-called Glass City
Wake up, my friends! C’mon now, it’s a pity
To waste this gem! Toledo, turn on your dome
And find those Cake Walkin’ babies a home!

Marie Elena


Check it out! The Cake Walking Jass Band performing Cake Walkin’ Babies From Home!  Go Dad, Go!

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZR-X04Eio8&feature=PlayList&p=5A9A61B4295FD568&playnext_from=PL&index=0&playnext=1

HAIKU

feeling the freeing
lack of divisive drama
on our own playground

Marie Elena

WHEN LEAST EXPECTED...

I received a surprise invitation for lunch this afternoon. My wife Janice, suggested we go to our favorite Italian Restaurant, Ilio DiPaolo's Ringside Lounge. It prompted me to post the following piece:


Ilio DiPaolo

A man among men,
a towering teddy bear
with a heart of gold
and the Midas touch
with children and Fagioli.

A professional wrestler in the golden age,
before the mass media theatrics,
and soap opera story lines,
Ilio played both sides of
his rope lined office.

But his renown and fame came after the ring,
as restaurateur was Ilio's acclaim,
a gentle giant with a table side manner
quick with the greeting and a lively banter
laced with his strong Abruzzian accent.

A fifth anniversary dinner at his "Ringside Lounge",
brought the “newlyweds” and their four year old Melissa,
To dine and be regaled by the wrestling memorabilia.
A daughter in awe of the Romanesque portrait
of this Adonis in grappling gear.

He emerged from the kitchen; to initiate his small talk
and devour my daughter’s young face with his large meaty hands,
planting a kiss on the forehead of his “Little Sweetie”.
She made the connection, as did he. His departure prompted her response.
“Daddy, that Mr. Apollo was a nice man!”



Author Note:  Ilio DiPaolo was a local Buffalo Celebrity. He died in 1995 after being struck by a car during a torrential downpour. Ilio DiPaolo was indeed, a nice man.



Walt

UNEARTHING THE PAST

On an archaeological dig,
through the historical site
which is my life.
More precisely,
an archive-logical dig.
A search for ancestry;
a validation of descendancy;
a self-searching soul.
Progenitors I had never known,
from places I have never
seen, nor heard about.
All clues in this
investigation, no revelation
left unturned. A return to
my origin, a re-birthing;
an unearthing. Placing me
at the scene of this life,
lived according to the dictates
of my DNA, and nurtured
by whichever diamonds
in the rough I uncover.


Walt 

"OH, HOW WE DANCED"

It was your song. 

Every year on this day

it played in your hearts.

Your day; your song.

The "Anniversary Waltz"

brought you to your feet

and brought you to dance.

Through all the trials and

tribulations you had 

encountered, your love

would transcend, in

a passionate slow dance

to celebrate this day.

Today would have marked

fifty-nine years of your love.

I celebrate for you in my heart.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

I love you guys.

Walt