Moonlight and Quicksand

The following are poems excerpted from Moonlight and Quicksand: The Leopard and the Baboon Shoulders tight and poised to spring and eyes fixed on his prey. The leopard frozen in the grass, prepared to start the fray. The baboon shuffled in the field, his age had made him ache, And the leopard watched the ancient ape whose life he was to take. I know not if ‘twas sight or smell but the ape turned toward the cat Whose hungry state propelled him forth toward where the baboon sat. The old ape ran as best he could a pounding in his heart, But the leopard’s youth and powered grace set victory from the start. The distance closed, the baboon swerved, but the leopard turned in kind. The baboon knew that death was near, exploding in his mind, And so he turned, and faced his foe, and bared his aged teeth. The leopard closed to make the kill, and the baboon fell beneath. I hope that when my leopard comes I’ll face it like the ape. I’ll run, but should this fail I’ll swerve. My mouth will be agape To show my teeth, and snarl at death, and struggle to the end. The baboon died with dignity, and taught me like a friend, The Tree Fort Fight I was nine and Steve was seven when dad built our tree fort. A wooden floor and open sides, the place where we held court. Our parents said enjoy yourselves, but if you ever jump That fort comes down, and it will change to just a rubble lump. In summer days we played up there all games and never still, And then one day I saw Steve upon a neighboring hill. One friend was with him, and I laughed, for I had set a plan. Armed with squirt guns we’d attack. It would be man to man. A friend and I braced ourselves. We attacked and left them screaming. They both were wet, and last we saw they were really steaming. Back to the fort we ran so fast as evil little trolls, And then with horror we found out our plan was full of holes. They had come to counter us. They were no doubt the foe. Angry boys they blocked the door. We had nowhere to go. The hose they held was spraying forth, my face a soaking frown. For in my heart I did believe I was about to drown. The little guys had bested us. There was no way to leave. The lesson of this story was don’t mess with little Steve. At Prayer They sat together as we all prayed, the old man and his wife. Her strength was gone but not her smile. He held her hand in his. They lightly kissed with gentle grace and something passed between. His hair was gray and hers was gone for death had paid a call. Our lives are but a dot in time, eternity each end, But she's not through her blink of life and she would spend it yet. Lipstick well applied and red with earrings too, she sat. She smiled, prayed and sang with us; no surrender there. I kept looking back at her, some lesson in that room. And love and strength enfolded them though age had struck them hard. The smile she wore I might not have if I were in her place. And though she'll pass too soon I fear, I'm different by those two. Tiberia on the Kanaret A lover’s kiss, the two entwined The city and the sea. Tiberia of an empire born A modern face still young. Two lovers they of likened mind Unending wish to be Forever young of sorrows scorn, And music yet unsung. A soft caress by waves are made. Tiberia lets it be, And smiles by day as people throng The water knows her best. Two lovers they that never fade, The city and the sea. They sing with history’s throaty song, And laugh as though in jest.