The Fingers of the Wind

I have known the fingers of the wind

That soothing cool, that lingering caress

From the warmth of a child’s awakening grin

And on to the cool of an older man’s distress

I remember puppy dogs and playground slides

Slow summer days and giant waves

Grandma’s hugs and blueberry pies

Monster dairy cows and bumpy tractors hauling hay

Fleeting memories of a childhood rushed by

Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

The fire of the sun and cool of the moon

Pretty girls laughing and teasing

First loves hungry growl and a kiss ending too soon

Slow walks and long talks and passions found so pleasing

Fleeting memories of a youth rushed by

Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

Sailing ships off the northern docks

The gifts of children that calmed my rage

Working hard with a drill and a hammer busting rock

Coming home with a puppy dog in a cage

Fleeting memories of a young man’s life rushed by

Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

Autumn’s come and gone like the fall leaves tumbling from the sky

Children having children, toy plastic slides and puppy dogs abound

Grandmas in the kitchen making blueberry pie

And here I am feeling like I’ve lost my power and my ground

Fleeting memories of an older man’s life rushing by

Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

Gunner  ©

My Fathers Pipes

There is a scent that lingers in the cold air

If you follow it you will find it comes from over there by the old chair

On the table top a rack of pipes

Red and white and green; One a corncob and one with black stripes

There is a tin of aged rum flavored tobacco

When I pull the top away I can still see the thumb push from the old fellow

I recall how his strong fingers would tug at it with fondness

The bowl filled slowly, carefully; and plugged with an artful press

I settled myself into his chair for the first time in years today

He’s been dead now better than a decade

With some reverence of my own

I lifted a pipe from the rack and placed it against lips it had never known

From the bowl a puff of scented smoke

Brought images, sleeping memories suddenly awoke

The big long calm man

One I know that had never raised his hand

The one who with a single look, those steel grey eyes

Would wash away any notion of telling a lie

He was a thoughtful man who knew the value of the past

The one who taught me not to live in it but move forward fast

Fishing trips, ski trips and hiking trips.

Car trips, museum trips and school trips.

My Father and I traveled well together when he was alive

I remember he wouldn’t spoil a trip by rushing to arrive

Accelerate when you double clutch, you drill a well like this son

Tie a fly with a loop and eight twists, double back before it’s done

You can carry one more concrete block boy, you can,  and grab a bag of sand

Walk around the car young man get the door and give the lady your hand

Sitting quietly with a smoking pipe

Giving into the calm and seeing things from a reflective light

It’s the one last thing my father could teach me

Consider the just done day and tomorrow will be easier to see

Gunner ©

A Toast for a Strong Friend

When you hand in this fate, this flesh..this exquisite test

Stop at Hells Gate and to the Devil a challenge, “A footrace, give me your best!”

And when his bubbling percolating pride, “Agrees”

Tell him, “Through and past the pillars of Heaven, if you please”

When you catch him where he’s forbidden, spit on him, his ugliness, his sin

And sing, “You lose, I win!”

Gunner©

Gifts From The Universe

The mighty oak tree gifted me
A released leaf set free
Fluttering and spiraling it's way down
Caught before it finds the ground

My tiny ship tossed and turned
The ocean a raging mighty churn
And from the wind with elegant ease
Descends a dove, a promise of peace and calm seas

A single blade of trembling grass
It's helped create a drop of dew as clear as glass
And when I fold myself down and into the ground
It's a larger reflection of heaven in it I've found

An accidental find is the blueberry patch in the wooded brush
When I enter, the birds and the bees become a welcome hush
An awkward step crushes a rotted sage
A thousand hornets erupt in a rage

I growl with pain and decide to flee
And at the lakes beach what do I see
My brother can't swim and he's taken his last gasp
It's a welcome gift when I feel him safely in my grasp

So I hope your vaults are full of arts and riches
May you find gold as you toil and dig in your ditches
For me I find that better gifts are near
Like the golden tones of Hart and Hedy that I hear
Or the silver in the sky, the emerald in the grass
and the perfumed memories of each minute as it goes past

And if you find a random token
Consider this, it's to you the universe has spoken
That those gifts missed or lightly taken
can often be the ones that leave you shaken

Gunner©

An Ugly Woman

I have a blind date says I to Billy
She is the one that hosts at The Blues on the west side of the city
Egad! moans Billy I know her man
She is an ugly woman

At her home..I am full of fear and apprehension
I cannot make a decision
I have tapped her door..but I want to run
She is after all, Billy says, an ugly woman

The air rushes by as she swings open her door
My eyes take her in and immediately hit the floor
She says hello and come on in here
Her voice is smooth and sweet on my ear

I take a risk..and look into her eyes
A deep blue, the kindness is clear, they mesmerize
The wrinkles at the corners are hardly crows feet
But tracks of love and knowledge of great things complete

Her lips are full and familiar with laughter
She has the grace of wisdom, the gifts of sons and daughters
When she takes my hand in her own
I can feel the strength and still, the gentleness she has shown

And when she took me into her embrace
I knew that heaven had more than one beautiful face
A lovely woman with needs and passions
Her strength only moved by my muscles blissful contraction

Billy is a handsome fool its true
This lady I have met is beautiful through and through
And in the mirror on the wall in her hall
Is the ugliest man of all
Gunner©

The Ladders Angel

  I found myself, once again, clutching a rung of Jacobs ladder

 contemplating my choices and other rathers

 And here the past spread out before me

 the future, only a glimpse from the rung above that I could see

 And there below me spoke an angel in all its glory

 "Hello again poor Man, its been a wonderful story"

 I laughed out loud the way only joy can

 and wondered if this being I loved misunderstood the god given gifts of man

For pity the angel, not scorn,

who will never find death and be reborn

or the demon who drowns in his own lust

never a breath of calm to fill it's withered soul gone to dust

We will each, the angel and I,  admire the beautiful rose

but it is I that finds the gift of the roses' scent in my nose

The angel will be what it be for an eternity

while I for an eternity, live and die but choose each time what I will be

And if we throw ourselves into the sea

It is I that will  feel the cold cloak of its squeeze on me

While the angel remains stout and strong

The physical senses you see, to it just do not belong

Tell me sweet angel

What know you of hate and rage or envy at your table

While I have swam in their fires

My soul taught the measure of their power untired

We see the sun you and I, its beauty undefined

Unlike you, I feel its heat, the warmth great and kind

We see my child born and grow

I feel her heart beat, her breath on my brow

And so you see my magnificent creature

We have gifts each with different features

Yours like the large decorative box void, but ribboned and bowed

Mine perhaps damaged and torn, but full with a heart of gold

Poor Angel of mine so dear

To make it real and so clear

of all my sorrows and joys, I wish I could gift you a small portion of each

and show you why I have come again, the rung in my reach

Gunner ©

First Kiss

The first kiss! Remember this?
Like a glass of clean water when you were thirsty,
it felt like a glass of life.
For you I wish
That every kiss
Would be like this.
The first lovers embrace
Like the tumbling stream falling off the mountains spine
It reminds you..this is mine.
For you I wish
That every embrace
Would find you feeling like fine lace.
The first few trembles of passions bloom
Like the wave skimming the surface of the valley's lake
It rises and pitches to fold on the bank
Then dives deep with a gasp and a shake
For you I wish
That every day
Would find you a kiss, an embrace and a shake.
Gunner ©