Of bushes and forest and small hills; and readied himself, with a chance.

He stood on the edge of a sunset, with houses not far from his rocks,

And somehow the sunset was lengthened, slowed up through a trick of the clocks.

He harnessed the wings he had fashioned, aware they’d permit him to glide,

But never to fly any higher; and planned his penultimate ride.

The suburb he’d wandered for decades had come to its outermost edge.

He felt like a pioneer, waiting for strength to step out from the ledge.

Around him the movement of minutes had now (from his viewpoint) grown slow.

But night can’t be held back forever, since time need continue its flow.

The slowdown had only extended the best hour of one summer’s day,

With sunburn unlikely, and also an hourglass providing delay.

Recalling his visits to galleries, with sunsets of canvas and paint;

He’d never seen anything like this, as time showed its generous restraint.

The colours of twilight would summon orion to twinkle and shine.

For once that could wait until someone had soared over branches and vine.

He bent his legs quickly and kicked out, so eager to see so much more.

Beneath him were fresh summer breezes; and he took his first chance to soar.

He curved over treetops, and wondered if branches beneath them were sharp.

With everything else in slow motion, he somehow could still hear a harp.

He veered in another direction, to mansions built next to the fern;

And spied, on a balcony-courtyard, the one who had caused him to turn:

A feminine woman, whose music was flowing in relative synch

With time’s little gift for the glider, who knew he had no need to think.

He had enough height left, and reached her, as nightfall and real time were set

Concurrent with both of them, once more; its duty done once, they had met.

Like him she’d spent all those years waiting, unaltered by children or change;

So both could embrace their fulfilment, which destiny chose to arrange.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at HAVENFLIGHT.

Far in the twilight your brown hair is gleaming-
I see your bright eyes in a faraway star!
I still hear your voice on the soft winds,Mokeeta;
Oh why then so SILENT? where summer dreams are.
Oh why then so silent? Oh why then so far?

I miss you Mokeeta, when twilight is falling’
The West is aflame, like a far golden sea!
Come on the CLOUDS where the wild wind is calling!
Come back on the RED SAILS of SUNSET to me.
Come back again, on the twilight, to me!

This life is a dream, tho an unending battle-
They say we are made up of CARBIDES and TEA-
But JOHN got a truck and he hauled home the cattle-
While I and MOKEETA sailed on the dim sea.
SHE CAME THROUGH THE TWILIGHT , AND MOONLIGHT TO ME!

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom, by the sea-
Forgotten now, but I loved her so-
And her name was…ANABEL LEE!
And she sleeps by the sounding sea.
Down by the sounding sea.

And there is never a song so dear-
Till lifes last tale is told-
And over her tomb, the silver moon,
Turns all her beams to gold-
Turn al her silver beams to gold-
And far across the sea-
The winds forever sing the song-
The song of Annabel Lee!

nd the stars never rise
But I feel thebright eyes
Of beautiful Annabel Lee!
And the moon never beams
Without bringing the dreams-
The old dreams of Annabel Lee
Down by the side of the shifting sand-
Down by the sounding sea!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Mokeeta, Mokeeta and more Annabel lee.

or how the PRAIRIE wind…..goes singing by!

I will not pause an hour again to build
A castle….in the far dim land of DREAM-
Or how the wind flows ever whispering by-
Or bright with GOLDEN LEAVES
THE OLD TREES LEAN!

I think there is an ANGEL very near-
Who tells me how to weave each word….and line:
Then we together sing this SILLYSONG-
Or play it on this Old Violin of mine!

I can not climb again the prairie hills-
Or walk for miles, or dow some dusty lane-
So let me KEEP this only land I know….
Of stars, and gleeming sky……
AND…..FAR OFF RAIN!

Thats as fine a poem as I can write… I didn’t write it, the ANGEL DID….as I say in my song. If its good enough for her, its GOOD ENOUGH FOR ANYBODY…..even John F. Kennedy, only HE is dead. Woner how long it will be before they SHOOT BOBBY?

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Sillysong.

Of all the beautiful pictures
That hand on memories wall-
The one of the autumn twilight
Seems to be best of all-
Wife says its “Minnesota”-
For thats where she used to be-
To me it is only “Dreaming”-
Down lanes of melody.

The fields have turned to silver
Over the shinging wheat-
Ready to turn to waves of gold
Where winds of summer meet!
But over me a shadow
Drifts like the winds today-
Tho over my house the leaning trees
Sing their heart away.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Lifes Highway.

The crimson tinted clouds of Early Morning-
The summerdays so softly laid to rest!
The rustling corn, the night,
With twiight falling-
Of all these days, which do we call the best?

But no one wants to trade away TOMORROW;
It is in our last days…a precious dream;
The twilight comes too soon across the prairie-
And WINTER comes again, when summers gone.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Lost Tomorrows.

When I leave the world, behind!

I’ll leave the moonlight, for the dreamers,
I’ll leave the great ships for the seas-
And for the “Old Folks” I’ll leave the memory
Of a baby upon their knees!

Ill leave the grainfields for the harvest-
ill leave the rows of russeling corn!
ill leave the skies of drifting rain-
ill leave the old daus for your memories,
When I leave the world behind!

Ill leave a path for you to follow,
In these little songs of mine-
Ill leave the golden leaves of autumn-
When I leave the world behind!

Ohmother laughs an mother chaffs, but mother dont know thin-
How aweful dirty Fritize was when he began to sing!

Ill leave the sunshine for the flowers-
Ill leave the roses for the dew-
Ill leave the moonlight on the water-
When I leave the world to you!

Ill leave thses songs, Ill leave my fiddles,
Ill leave the old magnolia tree-
Ill leave the sighing winds of summer
When I leave the world to thee!

When I leave the world behind!

When the summer days are fading
And the gold hangs in the tree
When the prairie sunsets gleaming-
And the wind sings, longingly-
When the work is finally over-
And happy days are gone-
And you look across the grainfields-
Then you’ll remember me!

When the shades of twilight linger-
And the evening shadows long-
When the heart sings of the summer
When the golden years are gone-
When there can be no more dreaming-
And the golden years are gone-
In the last long days of summer-
Then you’ll remember me!

When the evening twilight lingers-
And the far off cattle bawl-
When its night time in Dakota-
In a dreary moonlit sky-
hen you sing the old songs over
From days that used to be-
When its nighttime on the prairie-
Then youll remember me!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at When I Leave This World Behind.

She looked at me, and her deep dark eyes,
Where the shadows, when twilight is dim-
And I talked with her Grandma-
Beside the old boat,
That travels the Waves, no more!

Such a little time, we have in this world-
Where waves and winds are free!
And the sun shines down, from the drifting sky,
Such a little time, till the years go by-
Little GIRL, and her Grandma, and……me.

Then she emptied the basket,
Her brown hands held,
Of driftwood, to dry on the sand-
A small girl of China-
Only seven years old-
Little girl…..of a far away Land!

Dark were her eyes-
Like her pitiful life-
By the shore of the boundless sea-
And…the overturned wreck of a lonely boat-
Was her HOME, but the sounding sea!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at DARK WERE HER EYES.

Wherever Indian Summer days are golden-
Wherever SUNSET, through the twilight gleams;
Her heart will come to mine….across the shadow….
For LOVE is just a MELODY OF DREAMS.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at HAPPY DAYS.

Gone so quickly, down the pathway-
Left me out here, all alone,
In the quiet of the eveing-
As I drive the cattle home;
In the twilight, starlight, firelight,
Where the flickering shadows roam.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at To Annie..

As long as falling autumn leaves are golden-
As long as stars across the twilight gleams-
Her heart will come to mine, along that river,
And we can watch the moonligts fading beam!
SING TO MY HEART AGAIN OH FLEETING DREAM.
And every spring the flowers bloom to greet us-
And summer winds go drifting, down the stream-
We still can sing our songs along that river-
Where every nite the moonlite, softley gleams!

Where every night the silver moonlite lingers,
And soft the days of autumn, drift away-
For these are days that we can keep forever-
Where ever autumn leaves come down today.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at MOONLIT RIVER.