moonlit poem

….when the waves crash ashore,

as the sun sets silently underground;

her voice sung in moonlight glow!

her soul bright as the stars

shone in awe

and sunk somewhere between my heart and mind.

when the waves crash ashore

as the sun sets silently underground

part of me dies in the sun setting

and yet born again within the mornings glory.

architect of words

i build upon the foundation

of her structure; i dwell!

when the waves crash ashore,

as the sun sets silently underground;

her voice sung in moonlight glow!

her soul bright as the stars

shone in awe

and drowns

somewhere between my heart and mind…..

c. 2016 bgw

when the mind stays awake


in the snow covered garden

the winter melts away

slowly the whiteness goes away

sunshine peaks its face and  says hello

and presents the green grass  of  spring

and while my body sleeps,  my mind stays wide awake


my body sleeps and yet my mind stays wide awake


i dreamt of a warm touch,

a bridge from what was and what was to dream

a  black and white photograph

ah! there we were

soft as a whisper

loud as an echo –

caught under the spring rain


where can you find me?


all through the summer

in a wheat field solo

only where dreams meet me –

remember a september

walking through the cool alley ways

down to the river’s bed

i held your hand


only can i see

in a town that is

only to a place that is,

only from my window paine

can i see what ive left behind,

and yet everything  i found

the time of what is and was us,

left me blind


the eyes that are blind

fire arises and seeks its worth

your liking now only rebirths

the sunlight,  turns to  lamplight

and any found comments get declined

but my eyes are still on you and your game


if i still love you

what can i do?

all the things in the past

didn’t last,  oh!

incoherent words and phrases confuse

and as i  turn the heads

but stand strong through the poetic rhyme


if my image was to be taken away

i’d still be –

if i was all but  to drain away –


everything will still move on

time will still tick,  and the colours will stay the same

and yet everything  of mine  will stay in a field day


in the snow-covered garden

the winter will go away

and the sunshine quickly comes says its hello

and presents the green grass  of  spring

all while my body sleeps,  my mind stays wide awake


somewhere  i can find you

through this cityscape window

a paradise that awaits

where i found you

that’s also where i lost you

in between the tall buildings and the busy business avenues

that’s where i last saw you

and gave your last kiss


words are just words

sliding in some thought inside my world

the right will find the left

and stumble on the tomorrow,  oh !

i’ll move forward,  if i see you again

you’ll see my smile cover the spaces

all in the missing places


in the snow covered garden

the winter melts away

slowly the whiteness goes away

sunshine peaks its face and  says hello

and presents the green grass  of spring

my body sleeps and yet my mind stays wide awake


my body sleeps and yet my mind stays wide awake



c.2014  bgw

a relaitive dream ; searching for the need

. . . . . . the words of an untamed tongue filled the air.  it started earlier in the day;   a blind sided punch in the face,  by invisible words and an invisible intention.  the smooth flow of the enjoyment of the day,  interrupted by a rip tide of  a hurt feeling.  what we said,  tossing back and forth,  word after word,  like a catcher and the pitcher,  we toss the words back and forth,  until one  errors the ball,  and one becomes victorious.  but as stubborn as both of  us are,  we refuse to give it up,  and we make this mound into a mountain,  never even seeing the damage we are doing.   every word, like a dagger,  with holding the anger;  not wanting to fight;   i hope you can see it.    because the anger can never overwhelm the love i have for you,  the feelings are just too strong,   take it or leave it,   here i am.  we ride this wave,   hold on,   hold on;   here as we save.  the door slams and i am left here,  talking to the walls;    i need you to help me fix this ( quickly).  quietly, opening the door,   i hear your  sobs,   tears ;   there you are,  with your head in your hands.   where do we go from her?.   i hate to see you cry,  and seeing crying breaks my heart.   and the love quickly sneaks back into the temporary cloaked heart.   i stand there,   seeing you sob and i ask myself. ” what i have done?”.    to make you cry,   was never was my intention.  it was a moment where i didn’t think of consequence,  and now im paying the price,  backfiring and hurting myself in the process.   what have i done?   i come quietly,   sitting next to you on the beds edge.   i put my arm around you,    and the comfort warms,   and your head sits upon my shoulder.    calmly,  the words speak,    spoke in a soft manner,    and the environment softens.   and when the explanation rolls out like the red carpet,   we find ourselves there,   in the spotlight.  in this moment,   we become stronger.   a defeat never winning the game,   because we have a lifetime to win the series,   break out of this temporary mold,   and  there i am.   to hold you close,  tell you softly,   im sorry.   the words of an untamed tongue filled the air.   it started earlier in the day;    a blind sided punch in the face,   by invisible words and an invisible intention.   i tell you i’m sorry,    ill pick up the pieces,   a heart like broken glass,  can you pick the pieces of this heart?;

all the thoughts  and all the words;

keep me awake on  some  nights –

the pictures that are in my head

act like a short film;   keep me wanting more

wishing that you were here,  riding through this,  with me tonight

here with me,   i hold you within my arms,  whispering  the love,  filling my heart.  . . . .

the next morning and i awake from my deep slumber.  wipe the sleep from my eyes,  and i leave you there sleeping.   i return to my desk and i start the writing that has built up inside this wondering mind.   there,  i find you and i,   laughing ing in a park,  child in the sandbox;   here we all are.    maybe im the trouble,    and maybe im the paradise.    and that’s where we find each other,    in the sandy paradise,    and i reach out and my fingers touch nothing but the loneliness of emptiness,   and the memory haunts in side .  i need you; to talk to need you.   i reach out,   and my fingers touch nothing.   only the loneliness of emptiness.   haunted by the memory of your presence,   the memory;   never having  passed.   the memory haunted ,  but only sighted by these eyes.   my mind stirs and finds you beside me.  laughing once again, a laughter long since forgotten; where are you now?.   the bodies linger still.  turned to dust,  inhaled by the generations,   no longer recognizably human compasion.   and i am alone.   consumed by and consuming spirits of another sort.  accompanied in conversation by the clink of ice,   in the heavy bottomed glass,  the sloshing  of the scotch within.    i am;   the last king of the lonely.   the face in the end.    the face in the end, there i am.   i wake only in the emptiness,  and you are not there,   you are not there.  but there in the mist of the days dawn,  i come upon the face,  that is you.   oh yeah,  there you are.    but i’ve been lost, somewhere in space,  the coming back down,  maybe wishful thinking,  but here i am anyway,  and waiting, i missed the show.  come back down,  into this atmosphere,  once again, im with you.  and here you are,  hand in hand,  there we are,  giving each other our hearts,  i need you, and you need me.

all the thoughts,   and all the words

keep me awake on  some nights –

the pictures that are in my head

act like a short film;   keep me wanting more

wishing that you were here,  riding through this,  with me tonight

here with me,  i hold you within my arms,  whispering  the love,  the  filling of  our hearts.  we are complete

we are complete. . . . . .

and there, the summers air fills

dry and  unforseen.

where does that leave us?

a faceless memory

forever never saying i love you

never was in my cards,  do you see me, now

with a little discretion,

saying i love you,   and never coming out and saying it

because you already knew it,   and there i am..

trying to say im sorry,  and pretending that im ok,

when im torn in pieces,  deep inside this  heart,  can you pick up these pieces?!!

i need you,  seeking the support in you,  and never seeing you,  and now you are gone

but that’s ok,  and ill be there, catching every tear drop,  every lost  “z” in the snore

here i am,  and here you are,  looking above what we show,  and  this regret turns to promise…

and here we are…..

c. 2013  BGW

after the work day is done (this is why)

. . . . . . my work day is done.  invoices, meetings and e-mails,  all left behind and the wheels of business never stop in my mind.  i crawl into my  car and  quickly take a minute to breathe and slowly forget about the work day.  and i start for the dance of the traffic ballet. stop and go, weaving in between slower moving cars.  and as i turn down the neighborhoods street, i  slow,  as i approach the driveway, welcome home.  our house stands as our castle.  hunters green wood slat siding , with stone tan shutters,  cream wood trim and cobblestone foundation  and  dark wooden stained fence outlines the backyard.   every time i see it,  i am proud.  in the front yard,  there you are playing with our son,  and he’s got that big wiffle ball bat in hand,  and our daughter is in the side yard,  jumping on her trampoline with her friend,  and the dog jumps up on the fence,  and leans his front paws up on the top rail,  looking over at me,  giving me a bark hello.  as i pull in the drive,  you stand up straight with our son in arm and wave me hello.  and as you smile,  i smile.  and a glitch of happiness starts to erase the stress,  and i park.  grabbing my briefcase and suit jacket,  i quickly climb out of the car and as i shut the door i hear our son cry out for me.  turning to him  i crouch down and reach out my arms as he starts running towards me, i set my case down and pick him up.  big and loving hug, all within.  (this is why).  as he continues to hug me tight,  i turn to yell out a hello to our daughter as she continues to bounce up and down, somersaulting in between bounces.  i meet you in the middle of our front yard and your smile becomes a kiss hello,  hug me love.  (this is why).  as we head in,  i loosen my tie and continue holding my son, who now has his head on my shoulder,  and with the other arm, my wife grabs my hand and lays her head gently on my other shoulder.  we open the door,  and it begins the evening.  i set my son down gently and he runs towards his blocks,  still scattered among the parlour floors rug.  you tell me to relax and go take a long hot shower.  and like so many times before, she can read the work stress on my face.  she knows me.  and i know her.  this is why. // i start up the stairs,  like i do everyday after work and start unbuttoning my shirt, and prepare for the relaxing hot steamy shower that awaits.  i slide open the showers door and i get in.   washing off the workday grime and dirtiness of the stress, i lean in and put my head under the gentle flow of the shower head and i stay there for a good short while,  slowly, easing of the days pressures and stresses.  invoices, meeting and e-mails.  slowly washing away,  away, all with the water, running down the drain.  after i shut off the water,  i grab my towel and dry off.  relaxed and feeling clean,  i change into my comfortable evening attire of pajama bottoms and my  cincinnati reds t-shirt.  (this is why). //   i start my decent downstairs and i smell the dinner that awaits. there in family room,  sitting there, is my wife and children with delivered pizza and bread sticks.  our son in his high chair, painting his face with strained peas,  missing his mouth eight out of ten times and our daughter snuggled in the e-z chair texting.  but still manages to say hello to me, without looking away from the glowing screen of her phone.  as i look at the delicious pizza,  you tell me that you ordered it before i got home and hope that i didnt mind.  i quickly respond, “not at all.”  and i sit next to you, and we turn on  the t.v.  and while we eat, we watch something mindless to entertain us all.  relaxing with the family, together, and this is why.  as we clean up after dinner,  paper plates in the recycling bin, glasses in the sink,  our sons face, once again,  reappears.  releasing him to continue to play with his toys,  our daughter runs up to her room as if her daily family time quota has been filled,  and now has to retreat to her four wall parent-free zone.  i retreat, myself,  back to couch and turn to the home improvement channel and i kick my feet up on coffee table.  getting some weekend projects going through my head, i imagine what i can do.  and as i jot some ideas, you walk in and sit next to me.  gently you scratch my back, as you tell me which of the project you like, and the ones you have created yourself.  your scratching has become more of a massage. relaxing, releasing the tension in my back, and you make me feel so good.  (this is why).  and as we sit and watch and relax,  my son turns and comes up to my leg and i pick him up and hold him closely, tightly,  a father and sons love.  (this is why!).  our daughter comes halfway down the stairs and tell us that she’s going to bed,  good night and she loves us.  (this is why).   my son,  in my arms,  has fallen asleep.  slowly we get up and we head upstairs to put the little one up to his crib.  as we change his diaper and clothing, we turn on his soft lullaby music and turn on the night-light lamp,  where it softly glows around his teddy bear collection and up onto the ceiling.  i lean in on the crib and watch my son sleep.  and i just watching him sleep, makes me speechless.  i am proud.  his gentle breathing,  my son,  a deep sleeper.  an angel in our house,  this is my son,  and this is why.   we ourselves head to the bedroom and get ready for bed.  there,  in our bed,  you continue to read your Hemingway book,  as i start to think about the upcoming weekend projects brewing up in my head.  with all indoor lights off,  silently,  the home sleeps.  activity halted,  waiting for the dawn of a new day.  the circle of life.  and it all starts over again.  new day, new challenges. new plans,  new ideas.  meetings,  screaming,  e-mails and invoices forgotten by time im at home.  working to live,  and never living to work.  this is why!. . . . . . . 


c. 2013 BGW

summer afternoon (can’t take my eyes off of you)

. . . . . here in this grassy field, tall and green,  the sun softly shines;  the warm summer’s breeze stirs through the uncut grass.  walking  through the field,  up to the solitary oak that produces the perfect shade for our summer’s afternoon retreat.  we lay out the picnic blanket,  red and white checkered,  and there we rest for a while.   and from the moment we sat down,  cooled by the shade,  with hints of sun peeking through the leaves above,   i couldn’t take my eyes off of  you.   the gentle breeze  combs through your hair, and you pull  the strands of hair away from your face and guide then to back behind your ear.   sun-kissed skin,   and the favourite  little sundress.  i am blessed, just to be in your company.  the silence we make,  echos the chirping of the birds,  a single motored plane fly above.   the moment our eyes met,  wrote the novel of  the moment.   and out from within, the  contagious smile makes an appearance.   out from the distance a passing car speeds by and breaks the trance you had in me, and i grab the basket.   a lunch that snacks of gouda cheese, a chardonnay, and a merlot, and  crackers with caviar.   and after we snacked and sipped through a couple of glasses,  i lean my back up against the rough bark of the oak.   again, i  reach into the picnic basket and pull out my Hemingway book,  and open the hard cloth bound book, and started where i left off a few weeks prior.   there, you lay your head on my lap and close your eyes and you smile as you sigh and slowly doze off.   one or two chapters pass,  and off in the short distance,  a rumble of thunder rolls. the blue sky slowly fades into a dark storm grey,  the thunder rolls louder;  the breeze turns to a wind,   and the sky flashes light in the clearing down the road.  you wake from your slumber and we start feverishly packing things back in our little summers afternoon picnic basket. one drop, two drop fell.  we fold the blanket quickly, and head towards the truck.   and as quickly as the first step back started, a hard wall of  rain drenches,  as now we are running, laughing  one hundred yards all the way to the truck.  forgetting that i locked the doors,  i drop everything and stumble for the key,  rain pouring and soaking.    you comically scream and tell me to hurry.   once unlocked, we throw everything in back and slam the doors shut.  the rain  in constant pour.  still laughing we sit and wait.   once again,  i cant take my eyes off of you.   beads of rain drip from the tips of your hair, onto your soft sun-kissed skin.  i reach over to wipe the dripping rain off of your face and  i lean in to kiss the love that is you.   breathe deep,   the windows fog,  as quickly as it started.   as quickly as the time faded,  the sound of the  rain slowly comes to an end and as i look up,  and wipe the window clear, i see the sun peeking out from behind the lagging storm cloud.   as we fix ourselves,  i reach for the keys, and start-up the truck.   as i back out onto the road and head back home, we crack open the windows, and  smile.  one summers afternoon picnic to remember, falling more in love with you, with each passing day, taking my breath away,  making the memories that last a lifetime,   making me want to be a better man,  i can’t take my eyes off of you.  . . . . .

c. 2013 BGW