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Thursday, May 27, 2010

My Prayer

Give me the comfort of Saturday sleep
After the toil of work soaked week;
Of winter quilts in a world of snow;
The still of white when tempest blows

When hazy, lazy afternoons
Drift with honeysuckle in June
Give me friends and family there
On the front porch in rocking chairs

Stretched in a hammock between two trees
While apple blossoms buzz with bees
And bright butterflies flutter the breeze
Give my soul colored sails like these

Give me the music of an old guitar
Or the voice of love beneath the stars
When the smiling moon hangs trembling
Like a golden chime on a silver string

Give me the tender words to speak
Like the kiss of a child on grizzled cheek
When I have grown both old and gray
“I love you grandpa”, they might say

Oh, let me bounce them on my knees
God, give me precious gifts like these
And I’ll want not for milk and honey;
Neither for silver nor gold of money

Give me love and a gentle heart
A soul that understands the part
Of life when we must say goodbye
Make me unashamed to cry

But make my every teardrop blessed
With memories of happiness
And all the good times with my tears
Let me not face cruel death in fear

Give me a strong and willing hand
To grow my garden and till the land
As I plant seeds in hearts for love
God, bless my endeavors from above

And in my every sweet pursuit
Let my trees bring forth good fruit
Take from me the spirit of pride
That I might feel your love inside

And with my brothers and sisters share
My comforts for their worried care
Let me do everything I can
To bless and help my fellow man

Make me bold and let me dare
To better my world through peace and prayer
Give me the faith I need to believe
Let not my heart or words deceive

Let me offer thanks and praise
Every minute of all my days
And leave a memory when I’m gone
More precious than mere words in stone

To the Clouds

Gentle stirring mist above
Tranquil floating kiss of love
Upon the frozen cheek of sky
Winter mornings passing by

Forecast rain or sleet and snow
Tell me where your spirits go
Appearing silent from the blue
Vanishing into heaven’s hue

Summer doldrums breeze might stir
Hoary tufts of rabbit’s fur
Magic tendrils disappear
Into the vault of nervous air

Great anvils in the heavens hang
Bruised purple anger flashing fangs
In bolts electric and exciting
Rumbling thunder with your lightning

Children lying in green meadows
Imagine shifting animals
Fantastic creatures and unicorns
Are there by fantasy reborn

Not a place to have one’s head
Like angels for their blissful bed
Bellows of the wind might billow
Sails of rest; celestial pillows

Ethereal white; your wedding veils
Listening for the golden bells
From the sun to shine and sing
In morning like the bright dove’s wing

The black and gray of rainy days
Has sung your darker harmonies
But sweet the pink of soft reflections
Cotton candy spun confections

In my mental predilections
Make you nearer to perfection
Heaven your lovely curtains shroud
Blanket me with covering clouds

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


Green; fresh grass against bare skin
Tomatoes and apples ripening
A Luna Moth’s dusty and delicate wing
Green is the color of spring

Yellow is daisies and dandelion
The sun in full glory and gold refined
The color of riches beyond all compare
Yellow is mellow and fair

Blue; the open freedom of sky
Endless heaven beyond the mind’s eye
Turquoise stone, sapphire and sea
Blue is the color of purity

Pink is roses and dogwood blooms
Baby girl dresses and nursery rooms
Delicious mixture; strawberries and milk
Pink is a lady’s bedroom silk

White; the innocent bride in her gown
New fallen snow and duckling’s down
Old country church and hairs of old age
The hunger for words on an empty page

Orange is flickering fingers of flame
A fruit that bears that beloved name
Autumn leaves and misty sunrise
Orange is warmth in children’s eyes

Red; sumac and holly berries
Christmas lights and candied cherries
Embers from a long spent fire
Red is the flame of desire

Purple is mountains and amethyst dreams
Eggplant and thunderheads burst at the seams
Bruises of long suffered loyalty
Purple is the robe of royalty

Brown; stained wood and sun baked earth
Winter coffee and chocolate syrup
Suntanned skin, the smell of leather
Brown is a thrush and his feathers

Black is the velvet robe of night
Deep and endless absence of light
Clothing of mourning and Sunday best
Black is the color of rest.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Little Things

A grain of sand
A flake of snow
A drop of rain
A soft hello

Summer beaches
Winter skiers
Growing gardens
Friends for years

A needle’s eye
A piece of thread
A button lost
A robin’s egg

Mended pocket
The poet’s purse
Holds together
The universe

Monday, May 10, 2010


Rolled sleeves, he pulled his glasses down.
Rubbed his nose where little indentations were.
His head heavy and fingers stubby
His mind tapped lettered keys.

Where would this silent journey begin and end?
A leopard lie buried in drifting snows.
His mind floated in the thin air of Kilimanjaro.
Each breath came heavy, swirling in vertigo.

Harry has a gangrenous leg. Vultures are gathering.
She wants to read to him again; dreaming of rescue.
A pistol lies in the opened desk drawer, just in case.
Harry wants whiskey. His own glass is empty.

He loves the bitch but love is just a pile of dung.
Floating pink petals remind him of Paris in spring.
Death is imminent and his talent wasted.
Why couldn’t he simply write that down?

Love Rules the Universe

Is love but a beautiful dream dreamt by beautiful souls;
Seeming to fade like dreams from grasp as ever they grow old?
The kernel of love is growing; leaving only a husk behind.
Eternal souls reach; knowing, though love has been called blind

More than ideal or beautiful dream is this thing which fools entice.
Love is not tempted by foolish schemes and beggars in paradise.
Though mountains crumble and seas boil; love remains steadfast
Pain and worry; lust and toil with life fade but love will last

Death and time hold court convicting mortal flesh and bone;
Accusing wiry fingers lifting; love still sits upon its throne
Those who come to value earthly pleasures find death terse
Wait on heavenly treasures knowing that love rules the universe

If one has no hope or faith and declares no one can know it
Love smiles and sheds amazing grace on prophets and on poets
The prophets prophesy in part and every poet writes his verse
The muse that stirs the caldron heart knows love rules the universe

Friday, May 7, 2010

Raptor's Cry

I am not a candle;
No flickering flame on a balmy night
Caught by winds of change and chance
I am a forest fire:
A raging inferno
Consuming beauty
And burning romance.

I am not a songbird:
No sweet dove cooing beneath windows
Of those I would woo with words
I am the great horned owl;
Gliding swift and silent;
And fear of other birds

I am not an author;
No man of books and learned discourse
Pontificating things he learned at college
I am a vagabond poet;
Worry lines my leather brow
I know
Sorrow comes with knowledge

Sunday, May 2, 2010


I’m the dying of the day; the restless, churning night
I’m the dark in shades of grey; mingling with the light
I’m a thing of mystery; well hidden from your sight
I blind men so they might see; their vision was too bright

I’m the color of morose; the funeral Sunday suit
I lift my glass and give a toast from Eve’s forbidden fruit
The knowledge of good and evil; within my cup bereft
I make the bravest soldier tremble. I’m the horse of death.

I’m not the black of equity who balances out the truth
I’m not blind justice weighing in the sins of wayward youth
I’m the pale and sickly steed that tortures you in dreams
In my orchard; trees of need I water with your screams

I’m the painter of deception; author of confusion
I’m your mental predilection; all your life’s illusion
I’m temptation on the vine; I depose from thrones
Noble kings like Solomon; I guard my post alone

I laugh at fallen angels where beneath my hooves are trod
Even hopes of demons with their burning prayers to God
Hell is not my stable; though I have pulled its hearse
My form is fairly able to transmute the universe

I count starvation in my ribs while wars I’m giving birth
I smother nations in their cribs and poison all the earth
Your horrors, goblins, witches, warlocks; none compare to me
In pride they call me “ally” but I am more their destiny

Satan seeks my council; by my hand the goat was made
When he would have repented; I schooled him in his trade
I shake the world above me from its fiery burnt foundation
I reward all who love me with death and consternation

I split the heavens asunder and rain both fire and hail
I stoke the furnace of the sun and light the stars as well
Riches of gold and silver; diamonds, emeralds, pearls
I pull from my pockets; shiny trinkets for the world

I need not reveal my name but many have called me Hunger
Greed, Lust and Treachery among my names are numbered
I am the unmaking which makes the shadow cosmos turn
I am Desire that feeds the fires of heaven so they burn

About Me

My photo
Poet and musician Fabian G. Franklin invites you to join him on a poetic journey through the soul and nature.