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.

Visitation

 Papilio Visitation 

 by john clare   

 Your friend Tiger Swallowtail came by looking for you today

  Lingering over by the blooming English dogwood 

 Barefoot so he could taste with his feet  

 I tried to explain you were off to a place called Biloxi 

 But I don't think he quite understood 

 The nectar he said just didn't seem as sweet 

 That Papilio's don't much care for dining alone 

 Especially without little boys like him so new from the cocoon  

That would flit with him around ole pappa's home 

 Now cast in shadows of deep gloom 

 And so the Swallowtail promised in the coming migration 

 To detour West a ways to a certain little friend 

 To tell him it's his determination 

 That had he strong eagle wings 

 He would fly that boy home to pappa's yard again.

The palms

 The palms

by john cla55

Down the way we came

weary in our journey

we had to stop and rest

unable to continue on

beneath stars of night

by embers we laid

where the path led

trying not to think ahead

beneath the palms

our pathway strewn

with broken fronds

upon journey end

then we learned

upon our path

the Lord had come

we took a trampled frond

and held it high

Hosannah in the highest

To you we lift our cry!

Drive by faith

 Drive by faith 

You could not hide

That palsied right hand

Trembling limp

But he noticed

As the drive by 

Faith healer saw

And sent a prayer

Your way

As the light changed

Creeping away

Behind him

The right hand

Untrembling

For unexplained reasons

Waving thanks.

Stormy

 Storm Cloud

Tary, tary just a spell

Longer

My little storm cloud

Over the gentle

Stream

Seems but yesterday 

You were born 

To rain joy upon our

Lives

From afar

 When bouquets come from miles away

found after finally a far, far journey

then interspersed with some with in near 

It serves to accentuate the arduous memory. 

Mock Orange and Wild Azalea in a

vase from her childhood friend

Opening aubAde

Opening aubade

If one can draw down the speed of doing 

You may be able to discern the opening

on the timing of the moons sure circling

A good exercise in the aubade of slowing.