Papyrous Poem Collection

Above the chin, below the nose,
a well meant grin may well disclose,
that care will find (with love’s insight),
for Humankind God made delight.

Of things worthwhile on this Earth plane,
a well meant smile keeps Earthlings sane.
Yet that’s but half our story told.
A well meant laugh is truly gold.

(Papyrous: Phoenix, Arizona; Friday, November 9, 2007; 7:50 A.M.)

There in the in-between
(almost and surely not yet),
prudence and love convene
to head-off Man’s regret.

In our not-knowingness,
mistakes are more than real.
Their offspring make a mess
(add desire, fear and zeal).

Discernment is the goal.
Without it life is pain.
Misery takes its toll.
Quality’s for the sane.
God made the world but once.
We make it every day.
Be careful with affronts,
and what you put in-play.

(Papyrous: Phoenix, Arizona; Sunday, October 19, 2008; 6:23 A.M.)

If she is sincere,
then she can learn the shoots of flowers.
If she learns the shoots of flowers,
then she can learn the shoots of weeds.
If she learns the shoots of weeds,
then she can cultivate her garden.
If she cultivates her garden,
then she can learn about beauty.
If she learns about beauty,
then she can learn about love.
If she learns about love,
then she can instruct well.
If she instructs well,
then the world can learn the shoots of flowers.

(Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. 1979-1983)

Fill our hearts O Lord of Light
as the sun fills the morning of our day.
Light up the alley-ways of our darkest moods.
Teach us firmness in feeling joy
as a shield against our grimmest thoughts.
Guide us with your ray of loveliness.
Illumine our minds with your alphabet of beauty,
and let us build a concept to embrace You.
As the sun colors the evening of our day
enter O Lord of Light the doorway to our dreams,
and show us how to love You all the more.

(San Jose, California, U.S.A. 1973-1978)

I suppose you all know, in no small way,
Man’s mostly H2O (some mostly spray).

If science is correct, my condition,
as reason would detect is suspicion.

So now I’m full of gas (go oxygen)
and reached the great impasse through hydrogen.

I’m growing short of hope and losing face –
through modern microscope I’m mostly space.

How solid is solid? How small is large?
Am I the pyramid or it’s mirage?

There must be some logic, seen with a glance,
that thinks subatomic and knows that dance.

Where does the body end? Where does mind start?
Around what spacious bend will I find heart?

Will my love permeate Mankind’s chorus –
No-matter what my state (or how porous)?

(Papyrous: Phoenix, Arizona, U.S.A. Tuesday May 11, 2004 6:50 A.M.)

(If you’re still there, I have something to share.)

A gray’s a refugee
from the sorrow and strife.
Sometimes (no guarantee),
we get a glimpse of life.

It’s no “senior-moment”,
lost in forgetfulness.
Our time is better spent
on what brings happiness.

I’ve made this decision
(the last act of my play)
about flaw revision –
love dominoes the day.

Now giving is living.
I know this in my heart.
It grows with forgiving,
to be our finest art.

The result is immense,
no matter the measure,
for true benevolence
is Man’s greatest treasure.

(Papyrous: Phoenix, Arizona, U.S.A. Thursday May 26, 2005; 7:48 A.M.)

Lord I heard a gray-gripe today.
Loneliness was spoken out bold.
Our eyes agreed, as if to say,
“This getting old is gettin-old”.

Not in anger was this spoken,
just aches and pains waitin-the-nod.
Young and wild were bucked and broken.
(Only the humble search for God).

(Papyrous: Phoenix, Arizona, U.S.A. Thursday February 23, 2006; 5:18 A.M.)