Day: April 7, 2015

(treks)

footprints left by treks

each step a journey onward

footprints from heaven

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Heed The Call

I’m stuck inside, prisoner to the rains

I have all I need

To keep myself entertained

Except the sunshine

And phone numbers

Of the people, I would like to be with

This dreary day continues

So I do what I can

Rummage through old emails and posts

Trying to find a way

To reach the unreachable

There’s plenty of food

Plenty of drinks

And if I could only reach them

I know we could rouse some trouble

But all the silent calls

Fall on deaf ears

For I don’t have a way around this

So I’ll just sit here

Staring out this big window

Watching the black clouds roll by

The flashes of lightning

And listening to the cracking thunder

I have many of you on my mind

And maybe, I’m on a few of your minds, too

But unfortunately

There is no way to heed the call

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Churchyard

Her name

Still sends

Chills,thrown on down my spine

Cold, my heart skips a beat

She was

Always mine

Then gone

*

Her pictures

Consume me

Like ocean waves curling over me

Sad looks, which I can’t erase

No words

Only thoughts

Occasional glances

 *

The churchyard

Her place

Where I visit on sunny afternoons

Days when the rains stay away

Time  passes

Long gone

Never forgotten

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Against The Flow

The streets are crowded

And I seem to walk against the flow

Everybody must have somewhere to be

Except me

I take a left turn,

But the street looks exactly the same

Like a wave of oncoming traffic

I’m in the wrong lane

I’ve turned against the flow

Without a way to turn back

I hate this town

Too many people,

But time says

They’ll thin out

Just have to wait,

For the heat of summer

And all the unwanted,

Will shrivel up

And blow away

This is how it happens

Same time, every year

I’m down to the wire,

Out of patients

And then POOF

Gone

They leave

Leave me alone

With this hot sun,

And it’s burn

My drinks and my thoughts

The same thoughts,

Of how they’ll come back

As soon as it gets cold up there

© Dicky J Loweman 2015