Chess

Knights and kings, pawns and queens,
Rooks and bishops all lined up
Ready to do symbolic battle.

The white and black checkered field
Spreads empty before the opponents lines,
Separating pieces standing tall and ready.

Pawns move out, always forward,
Never retreating, followed by the
Knights and perhaps a bishop too.

Rooks hold hostage entire rows
And queens move out to wreck havoc
Clear across the field - and then some.

Squares change hands, some pieces
Guarded, some threatened, and
Some threaten others on the board.

A move here, a combination there,
Suddenly the tide turns and the king
Can no longer move safely - check and mate!

Madre

Madre I hear you calling
But I can't come right away.
I'm lost in the fog of indecision
And I'm groping to find my way.

Madre if you can hear me,
Stretch out your loving arms.
Madre if you can see me,
Lead me away from harm.

Madre you've loved and taught
Me from the moment I was born.
I thank you for all the sacrifices
And I'm sorry for all the pain.

Madres' labors never-ending and
Madres' never-ending kindness and love.
Nothing compares to this bond
De mi madre y yo.

Morning Comes To Heather's Bed

Laying here on your bed
Drunk on your wine,
All sorts of thoughts in my mind.

I feel so good, I love it,
Every bit of it, I want more,
I won't lie.

I'll miss it when I leave,
Now I don't want to go -
But we know I have to.

Why have it end so soon?
It feels so good, I
Want it to last.

I'm drunk, maybe, I'm
Not so sure, I feel
So fine.

I'm watching the morning
Creeping in through your window.
Time to go - it's inevitable.

In The Meadows Of My Mind

Laying in the meadows of my mind and
Watching the clouds of thought whisper by.
I'm bathing in the sweet rains of memory,
My senses dancing so happily
In the meadows of my mind.

Lounging by the pool of imagination
Upon the sandy shores of fantasy.
Alone with only my sweetest dreams,
Alone as happiness and I can be
In the meadows of my mind.

Restless Spirit

THIS POEM IN COLLABORATION WITH D. ANDERSON,R.N. AND B. GASSAWAY,CO5



What's it like to be a ghost
Wandering aimlessly and perhaps
Shifting about, moving here to there;
Maybe from coast to coast?

Watching the people you love
The most grow up, go on,
Grow old, live their lives,
Then go on to the light.

What's it like to not have to
Eat or bathe or drink or sleep
Or exercise or anything really;
Just watching and waiting.

Always aware of an ever present light
Over your shoulder just within sight,
Or out of the corner of your eye.
You just don't approach it - yet.

Do you read Shel Silverstein or Dr. Suess,
Do you play chess or watch TV,
Do you do mischief or play
Incessently; resisting restful repose?

In your spirit form realizing
Your head is more clear than ever before.
You remember each and every
Second of the life before.

Faces and conversations, feelings,
Sights and sounds and smells, love and
Hate, joy and pain and so much more
From all the years before.

You realize you aren't alone,
Other ghosts, spirits, old friends
And even grandma and grandpa,
Watching and waiting with you.

Where do spirits go
When they don't go to the light?
What happens to the self
Just right after the life?