More to Give 1975

    As the mellow light of evening falls;
    A sigh that forms upon my face allows me to rest, and
    Peacefully replay the thought of you;
    In my mind's dry desert
    You are an oasis brought to quench.
    I thrill at the thought of us together;
    Sweetness, may I call you?
    Sweetness you surely are;
    Your music is sweet;
    Your heart is sweeter;
    Like daisies in a field you are fresh and alive.
    I love you, and cannot hold it back;
    You fill my heart with joy;
    I've fallen entirely into your wondrous love.
    Life, through sweetest you;
    Love, my memory always
    As day-to-day we touch.
    You have given me your all;
    What is greater still,
    We both have more to give;
    You are our home carved from heaven;
    Placed upon this earth;
    And, you have shown me happiness;
    And, you have shown me love;
    And, I will make your offering my acceptance.


    New Playground 1975

    Like the wind that rustles leaves about,
    My thought arouses to the sunshine of childhood;
    To its sunset and rebirth in elder youth
    With it slow ascent toward becoming an adult.
    Trees we used to play in,
    Climbing like monkeys, laughing as we tumble;
    As we trip and as we stumble;
    We are children, forever wondering.
    Who wants to grow up;
    A grown-up wants his childhood returned
    Where we are still restless and carefree;
    Where we still admire our friends;
    Where we fear no unknown;
    Where we grasp the nature of nature;
    Where we still walk putting one foot forward,
    Teasing bullies and learning from mistakes;
    We are too young to give our notions definition;
    We need, always, to be young and free.
    New life begins where one departs the other;
    As if what always was will always be;
    We could not ask for more;
    As we have reached our pinnacle
    Let us depart together on our trek;
    Making friends with the world,
    Our new playground.


    No Time for Rest 1-9/12-1975

    Dear father with grand soul;
    I watched you ride your fate;
    Your suffering was weaker
    Than the strength of your courage;
    Your heart beat quickly, and
    You rode to destiny;
    Yours shall never die.
    At twenty-six I'm so much younger
    Than I was at twenty-five;
    There is nothing quite like faith
    That tomorrow will be brighter;
    I have my freedom;
    I fight for it like our cave-dwelling ancestors;
    Like my Father, the Marine,
    Who peered into the darkness
    Of a lonely cave, into the empty sky
    And wondered ....
    Where it all began and where it all will end;
    Why must it end.
    I will save in my heart what's worth keeping;
    My soul becomes a home;
    Between here and eternity is no time for sleeping;
    There is not time for rest till living here has gone.


    Miles Burris Decker — Died Today 1-3-1975

    Dear God;
    When wrath you brought
    Upon this son of yours;
    While sleeping eased his pain;
    As beauty slowly slipped away
    He saw you, and
    There was hope, again.
    He was a dreamer
    Who couldn't live forever;
    Who fought, a Marine, until the end;
    This man;
    A sacrifice in glory
    Will be his grandchild's story;
    Of a mountain;
    Of a man;
    They were the same;
    Strong and glorious;
    High and gallant; and aloof;
    But most of all
    So desperately alone.
    And, through a home
    He was provided,
    He had a home on earth.


    Let Nature Speak a Word 1975

    You'll hear from a distance
    A noiseless sound
    That often speeds its meaning
    Round and round;
    Let nature speak a word
    Before the fools expound.
    Time-honored is this friendless friend of man,
    Who seeks no special meaning, and
    Who delights in slight of hand;
    Kingdom's have topple from
    Its slightest nudge;
    Soft evening lyres are muted
    By this fiend who holds a grudge.
    Despise the constant waste;
    The ever-present haste
    With which accomplishment is lost; and
    While achieving,.,
    As you feel this pesky breathing
    Down your neck,
    Stand up, straight up and square your jaw.
    Look fury-eyed, and
    While this moron wipes his eyes
    From having wept;
    Calmly walk away without ever looking back, and say....
    I would not have done it any other way.


    Eulogy For My Father January, 1975

    (My words as we released Dad's ashes into Sunfish Creek)

    We are here to offer our blessings
    To my dear Father
    In this environment which he loved so deeply
    He was a good husband;
    He was a good father;
    He was a good brother;
    He was a good friend;
    He was great among men.
    We all loved and admired his simplicity;
    His genuineness;
    His courage;
    His beauty.
    Today, we return Dad's remains
    To the good earth which he loved;
    Dad lived his life with love, and in truth;
    With us Dad's spirit will always live;
    His will always be our greatest strength.
    A line from one of my Dad's favorite poems:
    "I would be happy to live by the side of the road,
    And be a friend to man";


    Becoming Man 1975

    A man is a fool, or
    This man is
    To walk such narrow paths;
    To dream with acute vagueness;
    I must change;
    Perhaps change with time
    Would do me well;
    Perhaps that change has come.
    Too much nonsense do I know;
    Too vague and imprecise my thought;
    Too few hours of sweat on brow;
    I am withered in mind.
    I am a nobody;
    A worker and a part time student;
    A member of the human race.
    But, I am good!
    Though goodness reeks
    Without a course to follow;
    Goodness in its vintage
    Is gladness and effort;
    I seek a higher plane
    To enlighten;
    To lead;
    To escape;
    I am becoming man.


    Our Ends Have Met january, 1975

    I like to lie with you my love,
    Among the blades of grass;
    In fields thick with clover;
    In love, deeply, our madness;
    With serenity a bond,
    We sit upon each other's knee,
    Rocking heavenly.
    Talking childhood dreams come true;
    Not all childhood's do.
    This way our day begins with play;
    Just so, the night withdraws
    Leaving my heart not having missed a day
    Of being near, and seeing, you.
    Day by lovely day;
    Year by golden year;
    Our ends meet;
    The east is me,
    The west is you;
    Our horizon is the world.


    It was noon

    And he was tired;
    Full of hopelessness
    And pettiness;
    He had no name to speak about;
    A quiver on his lips
    Betrayed emptiness;
    Disarmed and forlorn,
    The usual feverish pitch
    Of his attitude
    Was subdued, nearly squelched.
    What before me stands, not prior seen,
    That I thought exact?
    All life is saddened
    By the cast of this vision.
    I had not known nor heard spoken
    The joys before;
    I dared not dream
    The worth of smiles and cheer;
    A frozen face had taught me to despise
    The worth in man;
    So much so that I distrusted
    The very thought, or sight,
    Of goodness not my own.


    You Are What you are 2-10-1975

    How often I wished for just a change
    To catch the golden whale of the sea;
    Now the cherished fish
    Is in my pool awaiting me.
    How nice of you to come, said I;
    Catch me if you can, said he;
    I said, it been a long, long time,
    Since early in my youth,
    That I have held a pole in hand;
    To me its now uncouth.
    He said, my friend a fool, only a fool,
    Betray himself by leaving
    The field and forest as if he'd not dwelled there;
    Why would one depart
    Without a thought, a smile, a care.
    I'll come back again, my friend, said I,
    As I turned to walk away;
    There is a lifetime for me to catch you;
    There's more than just one day;
    In leaving, thusly,
    I have begun to seek the way.


    Freedom Is 2-12-1975

    Freedom,
    Is perpetual extension of oneself into the unknown;
    Seeing that which threatens one as no longer unfamiliar;
    Perceiving the whole from abstract parts; and
    Pursuing those interests, which naturally flow there from;
    Is one of life's invariables.
    Freedom,
    Can be built upon and enlarged;
    Cannot in and of itself ensure happiness;
    Is itself a part of a larger whole;
    Is essentially of, and pertaining to, the spirit;
    Is a two-edged sword if not properly understood and utilized.
    Freedom,
    Requires sensible independence of both body and mind;
    Is inherent to human endeavor, but
    Often unwisely wielded to that individual's detriment;
    Entertains fear, but healthy fear;
    Freedom,
    A state of life, which opens, to the individual,
    Many facets which for one reason or another
    Heave been perceived as secrets incapable of being understood;
    Self-awareness and incorporation of this self-awareness into daily life.


    Heart Full of Glee 2-12-1975

    My heart is laid in violets,
    Which grow with sunshine's send;
    My mind is strewn with dreams,
    With flowery thought again;
    I've crossed this bridge a hundred times;
    It's now become a friend.
    To the world which is unharnessed, and
    Looking back on puberty;
    What else could raise such ripple
    But a heart so full of glee.
    To the people of my past life,
    And the present ones with me,
    I cherish even sadness;
    With thoughts of finity.
    I can be not but proud
    Of my chosen destiny;
    With the songs that form
    Upon my lips;
    With my accepting mystery.
    When two of us or more
    Gather for a shower, and
    A flowering,
    God rest the troubled gentleman
    Left somewhere in between.


    A Woman's Influence on Man 2-12-1975

    There's merry band of gentlemen
    Where boys have early come
    To the world of work and fantasy,
    They'll depart much more like men.
    A crisp, "hello, how are you?"
    To the stranger in his home
    While sailing out at daybreak,
    To treasures that have come.
    One foot upon the shoulder
    Of the serpent carved If bone;
    A hand, held high, to forehead
    For a view yet to be shown.
    There towering in the shadows
    Is the mistress true and fair
    Who carries in her pocket
    That which makes men dare;
    To stride far further than perhaps
    He'd like, at first, at care.


    My Heart Aflame 2-13-1975

    I give you a bashful brilliance
    To send you on your way;
    Daily dreaming of the castles;
    Doubting not, one single day;
    Where fools are story creatures
    Who come but do not stay;
    Where one need not see tomorrow
    By looking through today;
    Where we shroud ourselves in gladness,
    And clasp our hands to say
    It's you my love, you are the way.
    Through all our wondrous days of joy,
    Remembrance brings a smile
    That plants itself upon your face
    And tickles you a while;
    My dear;
    My sweet;
    My valentine,
    Whose heart in mine contain;
    This happy fellow offers you
    His heart so much aflame.


    When Past is Gone 2-13-1975

    Where to, wayward life,
    When past is gone, and
    Present stands in ominous gloat;
    Where do you go
    When there's no where to go but
    Deep inside the dangerous chasm of
    Self's weak and mortal stem.
    Where?
    To find the source of course!
    To watch, again, the planting of the seed;
    To watch the shoots thrive;
    And, thusly on and on, through all the seasons
    With their gift's of joy;
    Until tomorrow's dawn.
    Straight stands the tall, firm Oke;
    Soft-gentle with the willow;
    The Oke reached out to grasp the sky;
    To float upon her pillow.


    Searching for the Divine 2-15-1975

    Up on the rooftop,
    Peering forth as if from heaven,
    Sits a castle in the sky
    Where fearless leader
    Ponders the sanctity of life;
    Its waning ebb, and
    Its towering high.
    When a soul searches for the divine
    It must clench, as well, the fruitless flowers;
    Souls must sift the chaff to gather grain;
    Life can be lonely while searching
    The myriad of faces and forms.
    Upturn any stone;
    There under lives an entire world,
    Its own microcosm
    That often is never seen,
    With its own vitality and essence;
    Its own sublime mysterious origin;
    With a past, a present and a future.


    A Clown Without a Circus 2-21-1975

    From crib I walk upright
    Only to crawl into adulthood,
    My teeth chattering ;
    Knees knocking;
    Hair standing on end.
    I am a clown with out a circus;
    A man with a young boy's guts;
    Peering at this frightening world;
    Posing as a star.
    What seem endless mental decades
    Take their toll;
    At times petrifying a sensitive soul;
    Like frozen wetlands, the life awaiting spring thaw;
    As in an empty mansion, which lacks only decoration.
    My self reluctantly grows
    As if the pain of withering would be less
    Thanking, without meaning;
    Taking, for granted.
    I sense I am lacking in appreciative character;
    Rather like a dozer plowing its destruction
    Before the garden's growth is seen.


    An Adventurer's Home 2-23-75

    Where to now, captain;
    Follow the flowing crested wave,
    Or landward ho!
    Who knows what we'll discover;
    Ruins amid the shambled blight;
    Joys beyond our wildest sight;
    Remember, man is not amphibious; and
    Songs of past rhymers won't echo forever;
    I must learn the tune.
    Is hope an obesity of the overfed mind;
    Is it faith and hope that carries us through; or
    Hope that faith is truly impenetrable;
    The sailor peers seaward
    With a cragged, salty face;
    The captain ponders memory, and
    Wonders what burdened sanctions
    Must adventurers overcome;
    My shore
    Will, in time, show its sandy face,
    Full of sunshine. ...
    A heralded home
    For rejuvenated, weary travelers.


    Life is As it Should Be 2-27-1975

    Life, I am quite sure,
    Will be short enough lived;
    So much of it behind me
    Even now, at this young age;
    This is as it should be;
    Not long enough to regret each day's mistakes,
    Nor allowing a lifetime's pardon to catch up;
    Not short than would allow us memory,
    Nor take from us the fruit of nature's tree;
    No, life is as it should be;
    Lived when moments somehow stop
    And time is let in;
    My love and I have dared
    To seek life's blessing;
    We have given
    When the time was there to take;
    My love and I have learned a valued lesson. ...
    The food you eat will be that food you make.


    New Stages 2-27-1975

    The touch of a heart
    Upon a child's delicate balance
    Provides a haven for kindness.
    My love is strong;
    I know it knows no bounds;
    It must leap; It must fly;
    My heart leading my head;
    My head alert and courteous
    To its babbling companion.
    Of course I dream — I off times dream;
    The halo's light attracts me
    With a softness, a loftiness
    Not captured by mere thought.
    I view myself a fairly constant man;
    Born to bear the joys and burdens of love;
    Happily retreating, there to stay;
    No melancholy is worth more
    Than the tranquility it imposes
    On a searing soul;
    I have felt, seen and endured my heart's eclipse;
    I can now give of myself more surely;
    My new stage is that of application;
    That of grave determination;
    That of brave solemnity
    Wherein light will shine.


    Follow Faith 3-10-1975

    Let this song take the tears
    From your heart;
    It is sung by a minstrel at his best;
    This song is ours to digest;
    Listen to the sounds
    From which harmony evolves;
    Blissful, pure, sacred;
    Melancholy tranquility;
    Dimensions absorbed through diffusion.
    Let us not lose our ear
    Because the music wanes;
    Nor fight despair
    Because it leaves a stain;
    Instead, let's expound upon uncertainty
    To become more familiar and learn-ed;
    Take your place in life honorably;
    With virtue and control;
    Follow faith to its crystal source.


    Washington, DC 3-15-1975

    This youthful town's unsettled ground
    Seems quaking at its core
    With multi-personed people
    Who, themselves of late, aren't sure;
    We've paused to climb
    A rung or two
    While watching from the gate,
    The masked marauders pillaging
    Proud, young America's fate;
    But, we have not been idle, no
    We've not been whisked away
    By beardless, blood-stained characters
    Who know not night from day;
    Pied Pipers with their new tunes,
    Playing old horns
    All the way.


    Beckon the Bounding Life 3-17-1975

    The winds of time are come;
    A mind is fraught,
    Little knows the angler
    From whence did come the thought.
    Astounded by such beauty;
    Reminded of the sight;
    Tread down the path through Eden;
    Behold, the glorious plight.
    A dancer through the distance
    Perceives a golden thread,
    As soundless movement tumbles
    Within, throughout the head.
    Kick up your heels,
    Let the flow of motion free;
    Give a beckon to the bounding life
    That overflows in glee.