CHANCE THOUGHTS

Mary Ann


Yesterday, by chance, I met and old friend
Who was a relative of mine way back when
Childhood blossomed
When broken hearts would mend.


I still remembered those careless days
When we would play and sing,
And run around the barnyard wishing
We possessed the magic to do anything.


We had broken arms and fractured heads
And cried when the other bled.
When all was washed and we were put to bed
We were happy with what we had.


We were young, with a youths mentality
And eagerly awaited each mornings activity,
When we could dream new schemes of frivolity
Where perhaps we would sail across an enchanted sea.


As I gazed at my new found old friend,
And wished for simpler times to tumble by again,
We spoke of crazy things we did way back when
The world was new and we were next of kin


Time has passed again and it was time for us to part,
And with her she would take that small part of my heart
That I'd saved for my friend all these years we'd been apart,
But first a hug, and then another, and then we will part.


Ray Wright

___________________________________________________________



Before The Dreams Arrive


Our lives are split,
Yet sewn together forever
In a lasting harmony we are not want to understand.
Nor do we pretend to be what we are not
For fear of hurting loves demands.


Oh I have loved,
And loved for passions sake,
In a short lived unity that turned my inside bland.
And it was then that I learned a lot
About the travesty in love's Plot.


You say that you are of like
And have been there and seen the same scene,
When you lover takes the final bow and waves goodbye.
You say that you have learned your lesson well,
But still struggle hard to not live a lie.


I know, and I see you,
I see you all to well at passion's door
Banging on its time ridden knob with your heart's hand.
Is that not your once true love and desire,
That you please to hold, yet do not understand.


Yes our lives are split
Never to be given love's special gift
Of having union each morning as daybreak arrives.
And never consummating our sleep
With Loves desire before the dreams arrive.


Ray Wright

____________________________________________________________


A Fleeting And Impish Gift 

In the cold of night she came running
Hunting the umbrage brought by days of silent noise. 
Into the earth she placed each foot
Hoping to steal what once were lies
Then make them loyal words packed with poise.


It mattered not that she had sold her soul
To doomsday carnivores
Then hovered above her body
Playing coy
To the battle that raged below.


I watched as she brazenly stood
On a hill that reached the sky
With outstretched arms
As if reaching for God
To capture the heart of the mornings rise.


There she played
Teasing the false impressions
Diversions of her deluded gift.
Gave thinks to God for his bequest
Not knowing she sang an impish tune.


I watched the storm move near
Capturing the beauty of her delusion
Wondering if someway I might stop
The hidden truth
Buried beneath erroneous collusion.


As the rains came to beat her body
She reveled in a mellow trance
Defying the yellow bolts attack
Never moving from her affected stance
Events wielded by delusions mask.


What religion has she
That makes her so independent
To brave this elements beauty
Racing toward an encounter of chance
Dancing through its echo chamber.


I stand muted as she rides with faith
Teasing the demon that rips her wits
Her perch amid the raging storm
Her essence dodging the raindrops charge
Her spirit held prisoner to stimulants fate.


In a final act of courage forged
From her shoulders her cover fell
And drifted slowly below her knees.
While fingers caressed her inner need
She basked in nature's thunderous show.


The raging storm whipped its fury
Challenging this naked waif
As a bolt of blue entered her chest
And laid her gently down to rest
Unshackling her capricious soul.


Ray Wright
August 10, 2003

___________________________________________________________


Sometimes comes the sun....

Sometimes comes the sun,
engaging all its power and wealth
in streams of mighty golden light
to bring forth a bright and glorious time.
A time of tribute, a time of love,
a time to capture all the beauty
that life has pushed in front of me.

Then, there's a spirit standing there
with a glowing golden presence,
demanding that its use be
something bullish, bold, and grand.
I find myself wanting to improvise
with something brash,
something that will leave a lasting path
that others may wish to follow.

How do I choose which road to travel,
one that's right for all who need.
How do I reach beyond the sign
that's posted on the edge of day,
to gain the knowledge forbidden to me
and all who wish to know the way.
And yes, to revel in the glowing moments
of this demanding day.

Sometimes come the clouds
to hide the wisdom that I seek.
The wind, the rain, the flashing bolts
of blazing white, haunt my cautious soul.
Bouncing up and down in torrents
so masterful and massive,
providing an adventurous trail
where I can hide, to protect
that which I'm afraid to know.

While hiding to protect my desires,
using tactics so foolishly employed,
I failed to see that the glorious sun,
the crashing rain, and the thunderous
bolts driven from the sky,
were tutors from nature's compliment,
pushing to show opposite views.

For each of these elements tell me a tale,
in which positive and negative attitudes abide.
Sometimes the sun is the marvel I know,
yet sometimes it burns and maims.
It's the same for the rain, a liquid that's plain,
that man can not live without.
Yet too much will smother his earthly self,
leaving his soul to carry the torch alone.

And so I end this devilish tarry
into character and all its trials,
I leave you with a thoughful snip
to carry you onto the sunlit stage.
Where life's joys are always within your grasp
and friends are your most important endeavor,
from the beginning to the end of each day.

Be saddened not by what you can not control,
for your effort would be in vain.

Do something for someone each day
for this is life's most important theme.
And in times that you think your path dark,
and a smile is a pleasure you can't afford,
reach for the hands of a friend that's true,
for sometimes comes the sun.

Ray Wright

October 18, 2001




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