Scribbles

in the land of gulls,

where the ships a coming,

there is a sailor sailing,

sailing on the billows of his heart

~~~

A Bird flew into the world and said

"Show me what men do know."

The watchers upon the path He tread

were wary to tell Him so.

~~~

Sweet were the songs of Aeonia

in the days when He sang.

When trees were new,

and the flourishing gardens of the Wight were young.

Sang He peace, then, in the breath of His children: the Wight-kind.

And while they worked sang He firmness, and in the rage of Prydien sighed He soberness, but hope flew in counterpoint under His song.

~~~

Suliei Nosfimo, Cardri riRoskilo

Sulimo Cardrilo, Cardrilo Nosfimei

Cardrilo, Cardri riRoskei riNosfimo

~~~

Quick was the Dawn of the Moon

and quicker the Flight of Her Phantoms.

But slow was the Earth so to love Her

and bitter the Gaze of the Stars.

once aloft a bright blue sky

once aloft a bright blue sky
birds in pairs and flocks did fly
over mountains, hills, and trees
through the clouds adrift the breeze

then an eerie sound was heard
one to startle the strongest bird
distant thundered the beating wings
of a dragon with its pillagings

quickly hiding everywhere
feathers swiftly fogged the air
‘til the dragon stopped and searched
for treasures from where he was perched

the slope whereon the dragon peered
and where with greedy eyes he leered
was near the home of a Good Blue Bird
who paused and listened, watched and heard

and when He knew the time had come
the Bird took flight into the Sun
the dragon jeered and roared and lurched
but wouldn’t leave from where he perched

angry was the dragon when
the Bird refused to fear him then
and so he shot his flames about
the dancing Bird beyond his snout

the Blue Bird turned and dove at last
into the raging dragon’s blast
and down around its feet He flew
pecking at its ankles too

the angry dragon’s temper checked
he stomped and stamped at the Bird which pecked
but all too much for down he slipped
from where his claws unstable gripped

into the river down below
descended Bird and Bird’s old foe
but out from midst the dusty haze
came Blue Bird into bright Sun rays

then as the dragon flowed downstream
the birds emerged with great esteem
while Blue Bird flew back to His nest,
ready for what else came next

and there He watches, vigilant,
the flock’s Appointed Armament
where, ever faithful, He will guard
the birds He loves with High regard.

Red Birds in the Storm

Red birds

passionate birds

fiery birds

feisty birds

Two red birds in a big green tree,

snow came down and wind blew free

the birds from branch and leaf and nest,

and off into the wilderness

Two red birds

two raging birds

two frosty birds,

bewildered birds

Blue Bird was a clever bird,

He their squawks and squabbles heard,

flew to help the lost red flock,

and perched upon a heavy rock

Three pretty birds

two wand’ring birds,

embarrassed birds,

One different Bird

“I can help you,” Blue Bird said.

“Storms are nothing you need dread,

follow me and I can show

where warm fir trees and berries grow”

Two red birds

two prideful birds

two hopeful birds,

befuddled birds

One bird shortly made his mind.

“No, Sir, my own way I will find!”

While he flew off the other frowned

and Blue Bird met him on the ground

Two red birds

one humbled bird

one wayward bird

two normal birds

“Cheer up, friend,” the Blue Bird said.

“He’ll find his way if he cools his head!

The storm might help with that,” said He,

“but you’ll find fruit in humility.”

Ode to Love's Longing

O pit that will not be filled!
O chasm of empty longing!
I am full of thy emptiness!
I am brim with thy abyss!

I seek!

But the sod that would fill thee
and grow precious flowers in its place
seeketh not that her roots may grow there.

And the emptiness weeps!
                                         weeps!
                                                    and fills its corners with throbbing tears!

--Lewie II

A Sorrowful Resolution to Patience

I am given to know tribulations of man,

the sorrow of spirit,

the pain of perpetual pining for peace…

I am given to feel the misgivings in heart

to feel that I’m not quick refining.

But this to build patience and learn in my youth

the path to perfection

is laden with lingering longing for love…

But this to build patience and feel for the day

when with the Lord I’m belonging.

I sorrow for ease in a habit of greatness

but greatness is gone--

I am carved with a constant constraining for care…

I sorrow and with it I know others’ aching,

that I be employed in sustaining.

So I shall go forth with a smile to my brethren

though within I grimace.

The peace that I pine for with patience will prove me…

So I shall go forth with my patience, uplifting

the people with whom I’ve relations.

--Lewie II

The Healer

What sorrow fills the heart of he

who with his friends no more will be!

What mem’ries coarse his kneaded mind

of pleasures, pains of ev’ry kind!

Like loved ones passing from his view

as does the sun dismiss the dew…

But O, what rapture fills his heart

as he accepts the healer’s art!

The healer whose Atonement sings

the songs of love; eternal things,

Whose understanding is not matched;

mends the wounds of those hearts scratched…

“O, Master, wilt thou take the helm,”

says he who wanders through this realm,

“I need thee, for my heart does quake!

I need thee, for my soul does shake!”

The healer then with love replies

with open arms, free from disguise.

“Fear not,” He says as He explains,

He knows our fears, He knows our pains,

He knows from whence our sorrows come,

and how they might great joys become!

“Come follow me,” He then does say,

“I am the truth, the life, the way.”

What sorrows are erased by He

who knows all things, who sets us free!

--Lewie II

This poem was written as I approached high school graduation. I feared the loss of so many friends and relationships, but I knew as I know now, that the Lord is able to see us through it all. He knows all things and He knows how each sorrow, even the sorrow of parting with friends, can become great joy through Him. If we let Him take us to new places, new heights, we can not only look back with joy at precious experiences with friends, but look forward with excitement to new experiences with Him and others that will be more than we ever could imagine.

Words

I held upon my weary way

a thousand words--yet naught to say--

For all are born with words to use,

which--without order--they abuse.

My heart did sorrow, wherewithal

could be my voice? Where was its call?

I knew not how to use my tongue,

So useless 'fore my teeth it hung;

and all around me spoke, with song,

and poem, verse, oh, what was wrong?

Why could I not use word and voice

like those around me could, by choice?

It did not come like dew to grass--

then I as yet felt something pass;

I looked and there beheld a being,

like myself, but more agreeing,

He said to me, "My friend, you yet

do not completely have it met:

Your voice is not a tool to use

to gain mere favor and abuse,

it lives to give you access to

the thoughts of hearts, to pass them through

to others who feel as you do

that they might understand it, too."

The being, then, again took flight

so I could ponder on this light.

I was not to use my speech

to gain attention or to preach,

I was to use it for to teach,

to hope that someone it might reach,

that they might understand it, too,

the thoughts and words that echo true.

   -Lewie II

Seven A.M.

O edifice of solitude

surrounded by the thicket,

why art thou without spectator

observing thy exhibit?

What eve’ storm hath the credit

for the end of thy soiree?

What foul and fiendish act has stopped

thy profit through the day?

We see thy shadows darken

with the rising of the sun.

We see them creeping onward

like the wolves against the one.

Thy empty halls do echo

with the sorry songs of yore.

The clock strikes seven as if that

were starting time before.

It looks as though thy windows

gleam—yet still—with market’s eye,

though merchandise is little and

there’s nothing yours’ to buy.

The woodland seems to grow before

thy flank, as like a legion,

as if to take what once was theirs:

the ground that is thy region.

With empty halls defense is scarce

to guard against this foe.

Why wast thou so abandoned, shop?

Where did thy builders go?

What fancies caught the eye of

thy creators, shop of white?

Why now at seven, are thy doors

not wide, with inner light?

Art thou as all the earth must go?

Dost thou thy whole life tread?

Thy days grow ever dimmer, O,

white frame, art thou thus dead?

But nay, thy clock still rings, as

like a ribbon on thy sleeve.

Nevermore might spirits enter,

though never also, shall they leave.

All thy being lingers onward

though thy hospitality ends.

None shall come before thee longer

as a monarch without friends.

Though thy beacon lingers lonely,

placid are thy ripples made.

Without visit, without all,

but still thy mem’ry shall not fade.

Though the day will pass and swiftly,

none shall e’re forget thy gem,

when none did come to get inside

thy humble walls at seven a.m.

Paradox Town

There is a city

called Paradox Town,

where everyone's happy,

but all they do 's frown.

There is an author

who wrote the best book.

But when asked to read,

to no books does she look.

There is a milkman

who gives by the jug-

-though he's lactose intol'rant-

-he can't have a mug.

There is a painter

who paints all the scenes.

But she'd never have them

on her wall--by no means!

There is a sewer

who sews the best clothes,

but none for himself,

'til his clothes he outgrows...

There is a mayor,

they all voted for him,

though he wouldn't vote, never,

no, not on a whim.

There is a builder

who makes homes for free.

Where does he live?

Oh, just under that tree!

There is a preacher

who gives a great sermon,

but on Sundays he's lazy

and he's called "Idle Sherman"

So you see there's a lax

in this Paradox Town,

for when talents are up,

there's no need to look down.

So next time you're happy

but you have on a frown,

beware, you just wandered

through Paradox Town.

-Lewie II

What Keeps One?

Can one ever meet the storms,

and receive naught a scar?

Can one ever see the sun,

and be not blinded far?

Can one ever find the gold,

and not be caught in greed?

Can one ever hold the truth,

and not a pension need?

Why,

Nothing stops a man to feel

the breeze, or feel a storm.

Nothing keeps the eyes from sights

of pain or goodly forms.

Nothing keeps the gold from bringing

gifts or bringing pains.

Nothing keeps the truth from forming

grief or forming gains.

But pride.

-Lewie II

You Show Who I Need to Be

I see the light in your eyes,

I see the calm on your face.

And when, at times, I am weak,

You put me in the right place.

I hear your sweetness of words,

I hear your teachings sublime.

And when the world rushes in,

You keep it held at the line.

I feel the comfort you give,

I feel the love that you share.

And when all others are gone,

You let me know that you care.

I know you gave life to all,

I know you reach out to me.

And when I'm losing my way,

You show who I need to be.

-Lewie II

The Quail and the Hare

I watched the quail as they crossed the road.

They went in a line, one after one.

They looked for obstacles, then as they saw none,

they crossed 'til they were done.

On the opposite side, when they reunited,

they went along their way.

They lingered not for any plight,

But continued for their day.

They had success, They crossed the Road,

They could, in heart, rejoice,

And as they did, the hare came forth,

his was a prideful choice.

With Dashing darts, and lavish leaps,

across the street he strode.

quick, he was, and did not see

The danger in the road.

He hopped halfway, did wait a while,

He ate a twig or two, 

Then screaming came a racing car,

He knew not what to do.

At fine, last second, He jumped away,

And with a worried scare,

he fled into His rabbit hole

To hide from danger there.

Are we the Quail with caution strong,

Are we the righteous few?

Or are we the hare, who, with our pride,

Will our days come to rue?

The street is danger, full of cars,

that hedge up our sweet way,

But if we look with patience fine,

they Needn't be our delay.

The darts of evil may be strong,

They may be very trying,

but when we are, with caution, living,

They need not be defying.

-Lewie II

A Thousand Ships at Sea

I'm from a thousand ships at sea!

We could not get to shore.

I knew my life was such a pain.

An Endless, miserable chore.

I drank the dregs of Seawater,

That puckered my small lips.

The nastiness of Clamshells,

That ruined all my sips.

I remember my knife, of which I used

to cut the net in two. 

I also loved my saber, which

Too soon, I'd surely rue.

My bunk mates placed a trick on me.

It hurt my very soul.

But then, they all fell overboard.

Escaping admiral's goal!

My brother, who appeared to me,

as savior in the right,

Gave myself his whole day's catchings, 

each and every night.

My Captain told me, "You're a weakling!

You will not survive!"

"You could never be as much as

My self: a' starring Five!"

I did not know much,

what to do,

'til land was seen,

with much ado.

I knew that land

would suit me well.

It'd be better than 

this ship, I tell!

But when we docked,

'twas hard to see.

what made life differ,

at all to me!

So when I Found

a sloop in song,

I got a crew,

Then joined the throng!

and every night, 

I sit and sigh,

For I know sailing's

good for I.

-Lewie II

My Backyard

Tomatoes,

A pole,

And a large misplaced bowl-

These are in my Backyard.

A hammock,

Some plates,

And a bird eating grapes-

These are in my backyard.

A lawn chair,

A Swing,

And a Car with a Ding-

These are in my Backyard.

There’s some Wood,

There’s some Stone-

There are Birds that have Flown.

There are Picnics,

And parties,

And a large gnawed-on bone.

And the Dogs,

And The Lizards

that fill the Days’ Tone-

They are—all of them--in My Backyard.

So I ask you,

good reader,

right up at your doors,

in the kindest of tones,

What’s in yours?

-Lewie II

Continue to Boston

As I tumble on the rocky hill, 
I will continue to Boston.

As I falter in my writing, still,
I will continue to Boston.

My captain yells in anger, "To the end!"
But I will continue to Boston!

I fear my heart will suddenly rend!
I have to continue to Boston!

A foe walks to my lifelong Seal.
"Please! Take me to Boston!"

My world is gone; I've lost my zeal,
I failed to continue to Boston.

-Lewie II

Failure and Victory

There is no pain 

Like Failure;

When you give in

when you're weak..

But then again,

There's Vict'ry!

Vict'ry obtained

When you're weak.

-Lewie II

A Hand Filled with Words

At Dawn, I awoke,

With a hand filled with Words.

I left without warning,

And considered the herds.

“I could give words to them,

Yes, the words would be nice.

Though what would become

Of the Cattle’s Soft Vice?”

So I trotted off East

To a vineyard, sublime,

“And what of these Plants,

Would not they like to Rhyme?

But the Plants, though quite stable,

Could not understand,

That a Word, or a Fable,

Is no swift demand.

Then on to the City,

Where dwell many a stable.

“Could the Horses Learn Speech?

Could their Tongues be enabled?

Then their Tongues’ be stopped Cold,

And their mouths’ be shut Tight,

For the people would mock them,

And Think them for Plight.”

Off then I went home,

And my heart made Assert,

That the words in my hand,

Would-- Could not do but Hurt.

They would finish the Story,

The fine entwined Tale,

Of Humanity’s Glory—

It would end Hard and Stale.

-Lewie II