Mamma’s rain gauge

 Mamma’s rain gauge 

On the Hill at the close of Mother’s Day

Mamma would have commented it won’t rain today

She always said it would when the cows were lowing

We certainly miss mamma her cattle knowing.

The lane brings

 The lane brings

The lane takes

By morning we check 

The sand

Perchance your tracks

Were crossing 

Thinking traps we set

But we are no longer hunters

We gave up the pursuit

Long ago

Now we just wait

In patient shade

In expectation 

Of your tracks seeing

In Florida sand.

Robber

 Robber

I come to take

It doesn't matter

Joy

Peace

Trust

Faith

Love

I do not rank

I take them all

Robber fly

Front yard

Closing gates

 Closing gates

Johnclarestokes 

My daddy always told me to close the gates

Behind me

In my haste I often would not close them

Securely

Allowing things to escape

Things to enter

Lately all my gates have been swinging open

The escaping continuing

In my haste forgetting

The lesson daddy tried to teach me

Forever orbiting

 Forever Orbiting

With the refund from the

Acme Deluxe Time Machine

I ordered a Satellite

Forever orbiting

It wasn't the latest in

Satellite

Spy technology

One of those Sputnik era

Machines

But it was good enough

To read the license plates

From outer space

Good ole Nikon glass

And metal.

I set the coordinates on

40.6831 North

141.3690 East

And sat up til four AM

Every morning

Perchance I would catch

You passing

The wife said there is

The Internet and Skype

And FaceTime what are

You thinking?

I do not know 

It seemed such a good bargain 

Much better than that

Acme time machine.

Legacy

 Legacy

The guilty old rector

Knowing all the years

It was all about the money

In a moment of honesty

Asked if I'd speak at my

Own funeral

He confessed 

He really didn't know me

And he was frankly weary

Of saying

What a legacy

What a legacy

To strangers families

I said it sounds good

So I asked,

what's in it for me?

Why, I'll preach you into

Heaven knowingly

For free.

Blowing a dream

 Blow a dream

I’m really loving my dream machine

The bubble wand waving

Rainbows and stretched out worlds

Emerging 

Then popping away as quickly as

They came 

Like the snow crystals stored

All of their own unique form

Poof

 Worlds without wands

I can clearly see 

the Great Creator sitting 

In space

And blowing worlds into place

Letting some pop into

Oblivion 

Others to His liking

Keeping

I can clearly see

a Puritan or even

a hard shell coming along

and exclaiming

What are you doing?

Why world creating is 

Not supposed to be fun!

Oh well

Puff

Another from the heavens

Just fell.

Come away

 Come away

Give me an hour and I’ll 

convince her to leave her

life of luxury and ease

for my world of poverty 

and poetry

it’s what we will live upon

arm in arm

floating aimlessly over 

the landscape below

Just one hour

Wonderful wand

 Wonderful wand

Johnclarestokes 

I found this great wand

Tucked up under some palm fronds

Now what child left the wand behind?

Just for me to walk along and find?

All it needed was some magic  bubble fluid

And a boy like me to take it from the

Fairy woods

Last Calla

 Last Rise 

john Clare stokes 

and then it was down to two calla

to see the May moon rising

wondering back to all those times

we all watched as one

anticipating the coming

chuck wills widow near by

reminding us that one by one

the calla and we die.

Make a wish

 I wished her into the blueberry patch

The good life with Billy