Writing Exercise: A Forest Walk (Poem)

As I walked past the big green trees;
guarding the skies above me like sentries in the night.

I touched the bark of the one;
I happened to have sat upon,
And stared in awe amazement about how something so great and full of life;
Battle hardened by the weather,
is just sitting so frail and lifeless in the pale-moonlight.

The wind blowed a hefty sum of limp-hot air that lonely summer night,
and I continued my way.
When all of a sudden, a familiar brightness and a warm gust caught my attention,
Then everything behind me was a wall of flame, so huge to mention.

A raging forest fire was fast coming my way! And I couldn’t do anything but run;
Trapped in the brightness, running but tempted like a moth drawn to the flame;
I ran with curiosity for danger; amazed by the warm yellow-orange illuminated wreck

Then a rod, as black as charcoal with a burning coat, suddenly toppled and claim the life off me.

Then everything went back to black; full of nightly creatures,
So dead silent was the night…

Message in a Bottle

On Television...Your World (An ode to Francine Prieto)

Every morning when I wake up, you are there.

Last day’s worries melting away with just a look at your face.

Then I would shrug my morning blues off, come to work again to earn my days truffles;
Though full of wanderings, necessities and pressure;

Still I’d push on through, knowing that all of this will be gone; with just a look and a smile from you.

Everywhere I go, anywhere I look, off nooks and crannies I’d get glimpses of you…and then head shaking with a smile, id go back again to face my day thru.

As the day ends, I like to savor that refreshing feeling to go by the ocean at night and brew up a drink or two;

And think brightly of things to come, another day ahead, and still get the chance to see you again.

Yes, to me you are the most alluring; not in naked ways but your whole being...
Yet I can't find the reasons and I don’t know why. It’s certainly not obsession, God I hope not!

But it seems my day’s complete with the sight of you alone.

Staring at your picture, hearing your voice… You never tell me I’m a loser, and perhaps you’d never will, trapped in a mushy romantic fantasy…maybe write a song or two…and keep on looking still.

Perhaps it’s a vague rendition, off from my mind’s imagination, But what if by sheer circumstance or an act of fate, you’d step right out off your world and unto mine?

Naahh…Looking on still, my lips crack into a smile. It will never happen, in certainty it never will!

You have your world and I have mine to explore and way separate lives to run. In an artist’s canvass, you will always and can only be etched;

I’ll just watch you from afar on that colored tube; address myself a welcome, a cherished welcome ...another chance to see you on television... your world. (JA)