The Dreamer In Me







There is something about this time of year,

That brings out the dreamer in me.

I’m not sure if it’s the gray shades of the changing days or the crispness in the air.

It could be the shifting colours of the leaves in their announcement of the coming Winter,

Or the woody smell that hangs in the evening dusk,

But it never fails at this time of year that my primeval clock nudges my senses

And I awake from some muted daze and dream those fantastic dreams of years gone.

They dance within my minds eye

As flickering flames upon a hearth fire of some Celtic fable that occurred in a prior life.

Ah, Autumn,

Let me feel your breath upon my soul.



Mother’s Day 2017



Each day begins

     with sun or rain

          clouds of white or sky of grey

               breezes of gentle winds or turmoil.

But one thing remains the same with each awaking,

The thought of you and how you cared for me.

Day progresses

     with labor filled chores

          some consuming and others fleeting

               household tasks or just mundane.

But one thing remains the same with every hour,

The thought of you and how you cared for me.

As the dusk of day surrounds me

     as the quiet hour finds me taking peace in solitude

          as my prayers soar to heaven

               as my head lays to rest.

One thing eases me to sleep, as did your lullabies of my youth,

The thought of you and how you cared for me.


Years End

We celebrate the end,

The new beginnings and chances to make all things right.

To forget the past.

Yet the fact is,

We celebrate survival.


A December Morning Thought

There’s something comforting about sitting in a darken room on an early Sunday morning with just the tree lights twinkling and window candles lit, their single light sending a quiet guiding message of welcome into the morning darkness.

Comforting to have a loyal companion curled by your side and knowing the person you are madly in love with sleeps soundly and safely upstairs.

The soft melancholy sound of Elizabethan chorale music floating through the room is joined by the grandfather clock chiming the quarter hour and then back to the even tick tock, as it measures time.

The aches of the body and age melt away as remembrances of previous Christmases and family now gone play upon memories stage.

It is this time of day, that moment caught between the gray shade of night and mellow gray of morning that I love. The awakening of the world outside with morning bird songs and the yawn of nature.


One More Day


I wish,
I had one more day,
To say the things I feel.
One more day
To tell the truth,
One more hug,
One more smile,
One more “I love you.”
The years have gone by so quickly
But your leaving seems like a sunset ago.
So much left unsaid.
I’ve rehearsed what I would say
And wondered
If you’ve heard me,
Or read my thoughts
In your eternal rest.

Just one more day,
One more day.


Journey’s End

Beyond the white drifts
Of Winter’s cold crystals,
Is journey’s end.

A destination
Started so long ago.

It’s hidden out of view,
Just on the other side
Of the approaching vale,
And nestled near the glen
Of all my dreams.


It’s Alright


As a small boy,
When bad dreams caused me to wake in tears,
Mother’s hands would softly stroke my head,
Her tender voice would calm me,

“It’s alright my son
I’m right beside you.”

Youth brought scraped knees
Plus many growing pains.
Mother tended my wounds,
And soothed my frustrations,

“It’s alright my son
I’m right beside you.”

When adulthood came,
It found me in uniform.
A nation in conflict upon a foreign soil.
Mother’s letters would arrive,

“It’s alright my son
I’m right beside you.”

Careers have come and gone,
I’ve search for myself
In varied identities,
And always my Mother’s prayers,

“It’s alright my son
I’m right beside you.”

Recently, Mother passed away
As gently as she lived.
The other night, as tho in childhood again,
A dream caused me to wake in tears,
And I heard my Savior’s voice,

“It’s alright my son
I’m right beside you.”