End of Day

Half a dozen hours later,
The end of work is just a miracle, 
An hour long train ride the length of two days,
Suddenly I'm walking in the door.

A baby to greet me with a laugh,
His mother a beauty to behold,
Dinner a cooking on the stove,
Shrug the cares of the day away.

Finally a time to relax,
The horrors of the clientele to forget,
Suites to take hang up for the night,
A glass of wine to pour in salute.

A book to read, a show to watch,
The choices seem endless,
But perhaps tonight an evening with the lady,
Enough of  this perceived obligation.

The Painting

Spattered colors on the wall,
A dash of lights and darks,
Collide together in jungle medley,
What lurks beneath this heady maze?

A stroke here a dabble there,
Tortured forms in the mold,
Jumbled flowers swept together,
What, is that snow falling?

Urban Scape

It really is the simple things of life that give us most pleasure,
A cup of coffee to savor in the morning,
An evening's pleasant walk in early summer.

Does anything compare to a baby's laugh?
Is any song more moving than the crash of ocean waves?
Give me the whisper of forest ferns,
The dance of afternoon rains,
Lest I forget wonder amidst this urban scape.

Seeing

Sightless, the eyes that stare at vacant windows waiting for the train.
Ever seeing, but not seeing, shutting out the light.
I wonder if the hope is gone, that curious wonder,
Somewhere the lust for life was lost.
Now the drum roll of time ticks on,
A waiting for the end of labors,
When days have faded will the eyes ever blink?
So eager to shut us out, the trouble makers,
When did age conform the mind?
Fight on those eyes do pray,
Give not away to despair, lest the curtain be drawn.
Move now, seek now, look now,
Before the passions cool and trails be paved.
To short our days for the blinding,
A moments blink and they are gone.
Sightless ever were those that wished to pass on through,
The lovers wept at kisses chaste beneath the moon.
Can an hour's gifts be lost when I am wide eyed here with you?

The Rose

Crimson rose, young in summer, why do you fear the fading days?
For life's short hour will you grace a lady's bouquet,
An engagement kiss,
Or applaud the musician's hand?
If never plucked, shorn from the vine,
Still your charms are mine.
For a moment you gave me pause,
A reminder that not all the world's a reckless stage.
Blush on for all your small hours of repose,
And weep not when the last petal falls,
For you gave the best,
And in your beauty we are blessed.

Dawn

Dawn, the spark of a new day,
Peers through the shutters like a mischievous child,
Singing of hopes and dreams refreshed.

Birds, unconcerned with me,
Embrace the sky on shrill call,
Dancing the vespers they know well.

My son, innocent gift of life,
A kiss for protection,
Hugs to secure me safely through the day.