Bat Dance

Dancing on a wing, the ballet in the sky was mesmerizing
As the orange-hued light from the setting sun silhouetted
Small forms performing intricate routines not only for my enjoyment
But in search of sustenance as they winged and turned and dove
Freely and effortlessly it seemed they were free of gravity
To fly where they willed as night fell and darkness gradually overtook the scene
Until I could no longer make out their forms in the waning twilight.
Were they still there, I wondered after I could no longer enjoy the dance?
Dancing, chasing a delectable mosquito or other flying insect
Unseen now and unheard, but probably more numerous than before
I briefly glimpsed one of them in the weak light of a lamp as it flew past the window
Its dark, featureless form reminding me why so many people fear them
Even though we are not in their food chain and despite the fact
That they actually serve us unselfishly by ridding the sky of the
Blood sucking vermin that make being outside after dark on a summer evening
An event that requires copious amounts of liberally applied foul smelling bug spray
To keep from becoming a banquet table for the bugs.
They try to make it smell good by offering scents of fruits and other flowers,
But who really wants to smell like a fruit bowl
Do I look like a strawberry? So then should I smell like one?
No—bring on the dancing warriors of the skies who live to rid the area of winged vermin.
I love seeing them dance in the twilight, knowing that they are there every summer’s night
Conducting the same fanciful flight routines for both me and for themselves.

Dark Trees

I was outside Tuesday evening
looking at the night sky.
Chris bought a telescope at a yard sale--
I thought I'd try it out.

I saw Jupiter and three of its moons.
and craters on the Moon as well.

But bathed in the bright moonlight
I noticed the trees
towering above me still full with leaves.

They were dark.

The lightening bugs that made them shimmer
during the nights of summer--
were gone.

Dark and foreboding.
Silhouetted by the moon.

They were not yet autumn trees--
robed with red and orange leaves.
Nor were they the eerie trees of Halloween--
leaf-less, sketching scary shadows on the lawns
for the ghouls and goblins to dance with
in the moonlight.

No--these were still summer trees.
Standing tall against the winds and rains.
Reveling in hot summer sun
providing cool shade to travelers
pausing beneath their branches.

Yet, they were dark.

I imagined them gloomy.
As if they sensed the change.

The coolness of the still not yet autumn breeze
swept across my bare arms.

I paused, breathing deeply,
savoring both the musky scent of summer
and the sweet smell of recently mowed grass.

A dog barked in the distance
returning me to my driveway.

I had drifted off
to a summer-bathed sandy beach.

The light in the window reminded me
that the time for sleep had come.

And dreams.

The dark trees stood tall.
Nodding, it seemed
in the cool gentle breeze.

Autumn was at hand.

End of Summer

The pool chairs sit empty as the night begins to fall
Mosquitoes own the prime pool side spots
Darkness falls and silence accompanies it
The children have returned to the classrooms.
Where did it go so quickly?
Why did it have to leave?
The questions remain unanswered by the empty pool chairs.
Waiting for another season
Another time
Alone. Forgotten.
Unused.

September Dreams

The summer sun sets now too low
Darkness falls so early
My time with summer grows too short
Cool evenings chill my pool
Leaves show signs of falling soon
Yet, mosquitoes swarm my arms
Grapes are ripening on the vine
And change is in the air
If I could slow the seasons change
Halt the sun's migration
I'd remain in light and warmth
It's something that I dream
A dive boat out upon the waves
A daily grind I'm sure
But tanned and warm I'll ever be
And cold not ever more.

Christmas Eve 2009

Christmas songs play in the background soothing the harried shoppers
Sounds of the season, so they say, to make them feel more giving
Those who know the season, know it means much more
Than tired songs rising above clinging cash register drawers

A baby crying in a barn--surrounded by the dirt and mud of the world
A world and people that he loved so much that he came to visit
He did not arrive like the kings of earth--puffed up, proud upon their thrones
But the King of the Universe came to earth in a straw filled, back lot, dirty barn

Because of love and for only love--he came to give his life
Because of love, he left his throne and shed his royal robes
Because of me, and you, and everyone else
He became like us and accepted a mission that would end in painful death

The cars in the parking lot trapped in a horrible, not-going-anywhere gridlock
No one can go in or drive out of the mall to reach the stores to buy their wares
The shoppers are trying to rush home with their gifts ready for giving
Yet don't know the first gift of Christmas, was given to them

From the barn out in back of a motel off the beaten path, lost in the suburbia of its day
A garage full of leftovers where, had it been today a lawn mower would be waiting for springtime
The King of the Universe, the long awaited one, the Messiah invaded our world
Not to conquer with his sword, but to save us with his blood, and his gift to us is life

It is Christmas, the songs are softly playing on the radio in my truck
Does anyone still listen to the words and connect them with that gift?
The gift that was given to us, and confirmed by travelers not even from that place
The gift of life, of family, of love; given to us on Christmas and remembered to this day



and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. -- NET Bible Eph 5:2

Merry Christmas
and may God send His blessings upon you now
and in the year ahead.

November Frost

The frost kissed pumpkins on the lawn confirmed it.
Yeah--winter really is closer than I want to believe

We had moved the plants inside in anticipation of the frost

They, like me, don't like the cold either

Hibiscus and Palm trees--

Imagine warm weather plants

trying to survive in the frosty northlands

Probably not going to happen without intervention

The heat kicked on in the house

as we dipped below the 62 degree bottom threshold we set.

So it was warm when I got out of bed

But the thought of sending more money to the BGE made my head spin

They charge too much for electricity

The trees are losing their majestically colored robes
which now lay strewn in ever growing piles on the ground
waiting for me to move them off the grass that I enjoy mowing
a reminder of the summer past
when they were green still on the trees and doing their job
of providing shade for parties and play

The truck started without problem
I remember olden times when I had a car which would not start in the cold
Kinda like me--I have trouble getting going in the cold, too
I would spend the whole charge on a battery trying to get that 1970 Ford to start
Only to need a jump from a friend or relative
I'll probably need a jump start soon, too

So there it was in plain sight
No doubts at all
The frost on the windshield, the house tops, the trees
The hint of snow flurries by the weather forecaster
And the cold reality that I probably should have worn a coat

According to the calendar
November is wholly part of the Autumn season
But that is only a cruel joke
November is really is the foot soldier of Winter
The harbinger of the snow and ice and months of darkness
We need to light warm fires in the fireplaces of our hearts
To remind us that April is only five months away!

September 1st

The cool breeze surprised me
As it whisked on by
Cleansed of Summer's heat
And dampness
It woke me
To the imminent ending
And made me relish
The memory of Summer fun

My feet were dangling
In the clear, warm water of my pool
Swishing aimlessly
As I reclined and napped
And I knew that this repose
Must all too soon end
Giving way to Autumn's chill
And Winter's squalls

September is standing
On my doorstep
With its promise of colorful leaves
And colder breezes
Closing the chapter
On Summer's fun
The same as the cover
That will soon go over my pool

Beyond the Autumn
I see
Winter's cold and nearing grasp
Aware of what is coming
But wishing I could remain
Where the warm joyful breezes
Play with the carefree waves
That break along the beach all day