A Whim

Bought as is

On a whim

Triggered by childhood memories

The heady aroma

Dad's Erinmore pipe tobacco

The feel of vinyl seats

Mom fussing over

This and that

Sunday drives to no where

Windows down

Letting the wind

Ruffle your hair 

Family picnics at the lake

Hours spent down

Memory lane

 Endless tinkering

It is a happy place

To linger

Keeping yesterday alive

Spirit of the Lake

Soft sensual whispers
Across clear water
Touching me lightly

As I tread carefully

In your domain

"take only what you need"

"my bounty is free"

"it gives life"

"preserve that delicate balance"

"so all kingdoms thrive"

I hear you and take heed

Spirit of the lake

Pride's Tomb

Words reached out

Creating a Spring

Blossoming

Leading to a summer

Of lust and love

But our sins

Bore fruit on Autumn winds

Until we crumbled

Upon the steps

Of pride's tomb

Retreat to 1956

Surrounded by concrete canyons

Flying SUV's going nowhere really

Chirping cell phones

An unending tide of humanity

Shots fired News at six

Yet another protest about who knows what

Headline News blaring 24/7

Snake oil politicians of all stripes

Like portly carnival barkers

Casting for votes
 I have been here to long

Sanity preserved by escape

Just a few days

None of it invades this private place

 In these woods

It's decades ago time travel backwards

Filled with mementos from an era

My soul remains to this day

The old kitchen table

Arborite top and chrome metal legs

Vinyl covered chairs slightly tattered

Frigidaire icebox still going strong 

Walls adorned with pictures and signs

Flying A gas, Burma Shave here

The old Blaupunkt HiFi plays records
I have stashed away
On couch in the evening Scotch in my hand
Letting the music take me back
To a place I understand

 The stress drains away
Basking in the glow
Of the wagon wheel chandelier
Thought, memories
And a reinvention of my inner self
Flows freely
As the calendar steps back reading 1956

Ghost

You came again at the darkest hour

It has been so long

Foolishly I thought you had been banished

Are you beckoning me yet again

Even though I am bent from road weariness

The desire for journeys

Now just an old whisper in my soul

Despite this your voice

Still rings the bells in my mind
Trying to draw me back
With watery images of high times
A narrow vision of decades gone by
Hope comes at dawn
And a harsh light of reality
That will push your influence
Into the background  of the past
Where you belong

The Beginning of a Journey

Barely an adult

At least in years

Full of bravado, little else

Armed with a lack of knowledge

That could fill a book

Running on borrowed money

Stepping on to an endless

Ribbon of asphalt
Beginning a journey of years
Good times, hard times
Sights seen , people met
From the seed of a dream
A lifetime of travel

Rain Drops

They come as a gentle touch

Or stinging needles

Driven by the wind

A warm embrace

Cutting cold

They gather as puddles

Run like little rivers

Each one a treasure

Filled with hope

The blood of life
They can wash away 

The blues of winter

Feed the bounty

Which is nature

When angered wipe away

All in its path

This prize we take for granted

Until it rains no more

The Trek

It was a trek of treks

North beyond the touch

Of most human influence

Days,hours bumping through endless torture

Along a track now called

The Mackenzie Highway

My truck encrusted

Blasted by a grinding filth

My boots and clothes

Coated with a film

Of sticky muskeg mud

Exposed skin threatened 

By icy cold

To see a performance

Produced by unchecked nature

A swimming sea

Of blues and yellows

Shining in a darkened sky

 

Scream Of Joy

A gem revived from yesteryear

It sat upon iron rails

Majestic steam billowed forth

As the scream of joy

Tore through my soul

A chance discovery

Opening a dam

of childhood memories

As it stood

Before my eyes

With haste I strode
Ticket in hand
As the conductor bellowed
"all aboard"

Ticket punched, up the stairs
I lightly sprang
Settling on a wooden bench with anticipation
For what would transpire

That lovely sound
Of the whistle
Set many things in motion
The train with a "chug chug chug"
And my mind
Down memory lane

As we bumped through
Green country scenes
In a cloud of steam and cinders
All with sooty smiles

A Dollar Bill

 A dollar bill

Thin printed paper
A simple object
That can be a home
Of hopes and dreams
Or a devil
Bent upon
A path of destruction
It all depends
On the hand that holds it