There are those who horse around
While others beaver away
It is a wonder that they survive
I guess I’m antsy that way
Perhaps I should be more laid back
And not let my feathers be ruffled
And hound them not for their deeds
But I wish that their howls were muffled
Padre
Another day in the warehouse
On the nightshift
Moving around pallets with my forklift
I don’t know why people
Buy from this place
It’s overpriced and really a waste
It provides my salary, so I shouldn’t complain
So, from saying so publicly, I’ll refrain
Padre
No incantation can achieve the same
No mere words
Can cast a spell greater than your compassionate smile
The magic found there is natural and pure
Without the trickery of the wordsmith’s game
Bewitched, enchanted I am transformed
By your simple, gentle, natural grace
Padre
What is this on the paper I read?
Ancient papyrus was crafted from reed
Scrolls from Qumran’s wadi from vellum were made
Later old rags processed and flatly laid
Wood pulp next seemed the thing to write on
Substance, not mere pixels – easily gone
Padre
I met a chief, grizzled and getting baldy
Long of tooth and extremely salty
A coffee cup in his claw-like grip
That remained horizontal
Despite the pitch of the ship
He strode the deck quite aloof
It was his Navy! And that’s the truth
Padre
I, a bit peckish
Started to nibble
I didn’t want much
Just a little
Before I knew it
The biscuits were gone
Along with jam
And three jumbo scones
Just nibble I thought
Why should I care?
Somehow six pounds
Came from thin air
Padre
In darkness and shadow of winter realms
The brightness of spring captive held
And in the balance the fruit of the earth
From awaiting humanity withheld
A bargain reached
The decision made
The realms of summer and winter
Interchanging
A time of grain
And times lean
For all eternity
Rotating
Padre
Written for dVerse
Judge Samson by his lusts was led
Took a Philistine to his bed
Her intent – his power to shed
Hair of his head, Hair of his head
They cut the thick locks from his head
Power gone – he was weak instead
But the temple where he was led
Collapsed on heads, Collapsed on heads
When words fail me, how can I then sing?
Where then shall my lyric voice utterance bring?
It is then that my heart and tongue to you turn
For Butterfly, my muse, you in my passions burn
In you, the day is brighter
In you, the night is not as cold
For you Butterfly, my darling
Cause my life and words to unfold
Padre
A labour of love
Bringing forth exquisite tastes and smells
Tomatoes plump and red, the table to grace
As purple lavender perfume the heart does swell
Bees intent of their daily chores
As butterflies flit among the blossoms as well
And I sit upon the bench, and take in my accomplishments sweet
And ignore the few incroaching weeds, and that annoying passing snail
Padre
Padre's Ramblings 