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About This Author
 Writing poetry allows me to exercise my imagination and share it with others. I strive to write for the benefit of the reader using carnival fun mirror images of my life's experiences.
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A summer storm in ‘58, While many other’s hopes did die, A child survives to face his fate, His only chance to win escape, To reject both love and hate, Long enough to wonder why, Therefore these words create, To flicker like a butterfly. Giant, rise up from your grave, Scream to chase away the mad, Vow to break and to enslave, The child that lives inside your cave From tainted past this runt to save, Deep down where the boy be bad, Force this helpless one be brave, Be master of this damaged lad, O’ healer great the boy did grow, As giant strength does surely fail, What secrets did the master know, He won’t tell and he won’t show, The master reaps as he did sow, The giant turns to raise up hell, While heading into moonlight’s glow, His young man’s ship at last set sail. Reach out the early morning sun, The hazy days and midnight star, A rooting phase as yet begun, Oppressive past seems yet undone, That young men mix too much with fun, Though childhood be very far, The youths who at once had won, Return to where the giants are. |
