Watching Clouds

by B.F.O’Connor

I’ve walked this road so many times
I know most every tree
My heart is wary, strength all spent
could someone set me free

The past is gone, as is my joy
my heart is on my sleeve
Missing you tears at my being
as I have learned to grieve

I avoid the sun, so I stay inside
sorting through our memories
My tears still fall like summer rains
The hurt just will not ease

So many things that were not said
with you still at my side
In dreams my heart still tries to mend
the hurt that hides inside

every single night I take our walk
around the west farm lane
I pause at places that remember you
And suffer my own private pain

I watch the clouds from our meadow log
just like we used to do
life has stopped, I’ve been consumed
I want to follow you

Absolute Abandon

Have you ever feared the blowing wind
And the shadows of the night;
Or felt the eerie tingling chill
Of a specter by your side.
In the darkness of these empty streets
I have heard the spirit screams,
just echoes of a lonely life
deep in the world of dreams.

They gave it all to gain the world,
to claim it for their own,
these selfish little impish souls
to whom the night belongs.
Cast down by love they never knew,
they search for Peace and Light;
only to find emptiness —
in the shadows of the night.

Dust

By brian francis

When dreams are cast away
and sorrow’s burden settles
When torment rips at one’s soul
and empties all vitality
hollow canyons wail
where once satisfaction flowed

We torment ourselves
with imagined outcomes
merely begging for another chance
Pain filled pleadings to grace
But the linear nature of our reality
precludes our delusion of possibility
spent, time passes inexorably on

Heavy is the only way to describe it
the feeling of one’s chest
when bound in the struggle
enduring the aching of regret
resilience bides its time well
and creeps in starts and fits
toying with memories
inspiring brief moments of joy

Healing comes as sure as morning
the taste of life once again
scars can often change perspectives
and make unsure our path ahead
tears will fall in spurts and sputters
but so will joy and laughing spree
somehow unknown life re-blossoms
we dare reach for the sun again

Copyright © 2020 brian francis

Laugh with me

Wordsmith: At The Forge

by brian francis

I always find it hard to watch you cry
It dulls that special twinkle in your eyes
It makes my heart so heavy every time
So please come laugh for me

I’ll trip and fall if it will make you laugh
Act stupid, wear the face of a psychopath
Anything you want of me just simply ask
Just please come laugh for me

I’ll try to always be that worthy man
The one you chose to love and take in hand
The one to see only perfection in you
Hold my hand and laugh with me

As together we watch the future pass
Bound as one to the very last
Hand in hand walking joyfully
If you’ll just laugh with me.

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Death Came Visiting

By brian francis

It was so easy to watch them smile
while watching them growing up
Discovering life, making their way
Becoming what they will be
Making us laugh with glee and joy
their treasures they gathered just so
memories of days when they smiled
meanings lost behind unspoken words

It seemed so normal like any other day
A pat on the head a kiss on the cheek
who can remember the words we said
parting our ways and living our lives
the busyness of business filling the hours
Just humming along passing so fast
While they were hiding and cowering
in the clenches of fear and pure terror

Death came visiting the halls and danced
amid pleas for mercy and forgiveness
but death knows nothing but the harvest.
walking with purpose he chooses his prize
nothing can be done but to mourn and cry
to remember the smiles and the good times
living with regret and sorrow, embracing pain
counting the tears that never stop falling

Conestoga Memories

      Conestoga Memories

Muddy watered river flows,
gently drifting its winding path.
Farms and orchards dip in their toes,
bounded by a margin of grass.

To cast my line into its depths,
watch the ripples grow in size.
Water bugs racing to and fro,
speckled sun - a water color sky.

No need for fish to break the spell
just draw it in and cast again.
Breathe in deep that fresh green smell,
a quiver, a strike; the long pole bends

The battle is on - though fierce it's brief,
a run a pull and reel it on in.
Released back into the river - set free;
prepare the hook, cast it again.

Corn fields shimmer with a gentle breeze
birds sing songs as old as the wind,
the lane nearby long and straight.
Just draw it in and cast again.

When waking from this long suffered dream.
being the old man that I never foresaw,
I am grateful for those days in the sun
where as a child I grew both strong and tall.

                 By brian francis

Seasons Turn

by brian francis

When winter lays her bounty white
Across the grassy knolls and meadows
Frosty winds blowing a shivering gale
Drift the shallows and fences high
Its harrowing voice a banshee wail

Spring breathes a warming breath
Stirs the sleeping potential hidden
To rise up to stand and budding bloom
To tempt the bees to visit caressing
From flower to flower bride to groom

In summer the nests sing and chirp
The flowers disappearing lost to fruit
Weighing the limbs to sag from drupe
The cornucopia of nature’s stunning gifts
Constant in nature a recurring loop

The harvest, fall’s generous gathering
The reward of the farmer’s long days
lowering of the sun from high in the sky
Cold winds start to blow a whispering wail
A prelude to winter’s harrowing cry

Broken Wing

By brian francis

I watch the sun rise, and pass on overhead,
And I see the others flying south again.
I wish that I could go, but I’ll stay here instead,
my broken wing and I fighting against the wind.

Winter is coming; the leaves are turning brown,
the nights are getting cooler, and darkness lingers on.
Low clouds on the horizon are telltale of the storm.
Whispers beckon in the wind coming from the north.

I feel it as it touches me, the cold, cold hands of fate.
I know that I can’t get away, so I’ll lay here and wait.
While on wings far overhead, the others pass me by,
Oh, how I want to join them, but my broken wing can’t fly.

Cold rain falls upon my back; cold wind blows in my face.
Soon the numbness touches me, then soon the light will fade.
Then I will cast away this shell, its broken wing and all,
To start on a new journey, I will fly into the sun…

Midnight Bus

By brian francis

She caught the midnight bus to take her down the highway
The life that she’d been living had never been her own
She packed her bags and took a room down at the motel
She slipped away the way her father once had done
Danny had waited that first night for her returning
He would have chased her if only he had known
But by the morning a state line stood between them
And the wheels just kept on turning until she was gone

PBR and a shot of Walker had helped him pass the evenings
That sense of loneliness was tearing at his soul
He’d heard a rumor that she’d run away with a soldier
Moved to the Philippines and found happiness at last
Red or black don’t matter he just wanted another Walker
And they kept them coming until the money was all gone
He’d stumble home most nights assuming he could find it
But the bushes by the bank had often served as his home.

She’d come home again when her mother passed last winter.
She had found Danny standing at the bar just down the road
They talked about the time that had passed since she left him
She told him how rough times had often worn her to a nub
He could only look at her and remember why he loved her
The pain had faded and was lost as he looked into her eyes
As she walked away again his sorrows were at once upon him
Line them up he said as he felt the cleaving of his soul

Copyright ©2021 brian francis

Fractured

By brian francis

I have felt you cleaving great pieces from my being.
Leaving me to care for my wounds, whimpering alone,
Like to toss a canvass over me, to conceal my torture,
Until you again choose to sculpt me yet even more.
I am the rough image you coax perfection from within.
Always becoming what you desire – chiseled pieces fall away.
Fearing that a fatal flaw might be found deep within–
to be tossed away with the unwanted shards of my being.

Copyright ©2021 brian francis

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