Wake me

 Tuesday don’t wake me 

Wake me when it’s all clear

Like Rip I think I’ll just sleep

to awake after many years

in a world that never weeps.

Squash star

 Squash star

In the night there came from afar

Under the mystery of the new moon

The most perfect yellow star

To lift below those mired in gloom.

Sending bouquets

 Sending bouquets 

The most difficult task for bouquet boy

Was learning how to send a bouquet 

To one long gone from our waking way

And if it arrived and was met with joy.

Islands 2020

 Islands 

Never would have dreamed

We’d see the time we became

Islands unto ourselves

Separated all about by murky 

waters 

Fearful to venture beyond

Letting the powers tell us

This is the way

It shall be

926-7068

 Lewis, our father called....

the phone that was in my fathers old home place at 

Crawfordville, Florida. My sister Paula has it in her 

kitchen, it still works. It always reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode 19, Night Call, Season 5.

American Lady

 Madame Butterfly   

john clare stokes

Took to the field yesterday 

 Net and field guide in hand  

Chasing about the marshy land 

 In pursuit of an American lady 

 We tried to identify the soubrette  

 As she flapped about 

 I gave a joyful shout 

 Look all! Amercian Lady

 in my net!

Press

 Press

johnClare Stokes

Canvas planes

Are fragile things

Paper wings

Carrying

Aloft in light

 the

Soaring friend

Upper currents

Lifting

We could not

Ground the

Little plane

Of fragile wing

Fold and

Neatly Pressed 

Caressed below

The restless

Pilot

And off he did go

Confetti 

Remnants raining 

Parachute billows

Of dangled string

Gently descending

But no friend

to earthly Tarmac 

Did land

The paper plane

Of fragile wing

Flamed to realms

Where grace

Abounds

The silver cord

Unbroken drew

As we too

Longed to touch

Our paper planes

The same as

Did he

Pressing on

Toward 

Christ's 

Taboric light.

Jumpy

 Jumpy

My father planted the sweet gum tree soon after we moved to Williston in 1967. As a 180 low hurdler on the track team, I’d hurdle the tree each Sunday on the way to church, our parsonage then being beside the Methodist church. With each passing when I’m in Williston, I’m amazed by its size and when it was but a sapling.

Rocky

 Putting an old dog down

Aurelia D Wallace

When the time comes

And the vet says no hope,

I could lift your painful body

On your favorite rug to the back seat

(You loved a joy ride in the car)

And start this kinder journey.

Even the steel table in the final room,

Glistening like a dream's epiphany,

Is no longer cold to touch.

While he readies the needle, I pat

Your softest hair(so soft so many times

To bury a weeping face in) and lay

My fingers on your quiet pulse.

Your great sweet eyes lock mine:

Thank you for this. 

A little jab, a minor ceremony in my heart;

Eyes mist, then close; the pulse and all

The suffering are gone.

I could do this simple thing for you

If you were not

My mother.

Jordon taking our dog Rocky on his final trip March 5th.

She sells

 She sells

She was convinced that in her early

Retirement while she still had her

Looks about her

That she could sell sea shells by

The seashore

So off she went 

At first it seemed a lost cause 

As beach goers would pause

And ask if she had the

Glory of India or any 

Precious Wentlewraps

And she would show them

Her assortment of cockles and

Cowry's and they'd exclaim

They could pick those up

Themselves

But she persisted

Selling sea shells by the seashore

Dreaming of Queen Conch's

And Scotch bonnets

Upon the low tides

Leaving me to hold the nautilus 

To my ear

In hopes a word from her

I might hear.

Madame butterfly

 

Little Windy

 Little Windy

john clare stokes 

Do you remember when

on the beach that day

you stood before the wind

storm coming your way?

What did you see

within those furious swirls 

while others fled the sea

and gathered their little girls?

Do you miss your boisterous friend

now that calm has come?

Do you ever long for the wind

and just cry some?

The other day as I stood

this fleeting wind howled past

I stood bravely as one should

and waited his painful blast.

But at the last moment a calm

as I stood in stillness alone

A wisp said, for you I have not come

for the one who stood strong I long.

So little one, if you hear,

your old friend seeks you still

The girl without the fear

Laughing in the winds playful peal.