as pure as a child’s tear

as deep as a galaxy’s core

as true as a still morning echo

our omnia vincit amor

stronger than old mighty sampson

lighter than gossamer lace

closer than guardian angels

our souls bear a fiery embrace

Old hippies still believe

In a paradigm shift in

Global consciousness

That will usher in

A new age of grace

And peace on Earth

Old hippies still believe

That goodness triumphs

Over ignorance in time

And all the world will

Attain enlightenment

And become as one

Old hippies still believe

In the Golden Rule

And preserving

Our Mother Earth

I know because

I’m one of them

–Photo of me by my son

For weeks we had camped

In the Land of the Loon;

Now our spirits were damped–

We were leaving too soon.

How we wished we were staying!

Here we felt so in tune

With our playing and laying

‘Neath our own sun and moon.

our little mid-western

town was truly blessed

the day she was born

she was beautiful

inside and out

so beautiful

that the other girls

weren’t even jealous

it was beyond that

she made them feel

proud to be her friend

proud that their kind

had produced such

an exquisite creature

her radiant smile

could reach out

and cure illness

every single person

she had ever met

instantly loved her

ached for her

she was so gorgeous

that shy boys ran

her angelic radiance

enveloped our town

and we thrived

but the day came

when she looked west

west, where her and

her kind belonged

she moved out to L.A.

and somehow

we went on in our

little farming town

but it was never

the same

flittering, fluttering

lighter than dust

she’s flaunting

her marbled

mahogany wings

and even the flowers

are so envious

they stare

on their stalks

at the beauty

she brings

–Photo by me

the constructs of man

the quickest of apes

arise from the ground

in arboresque shapes

betraying perhaps

sad wishes we could

return to the trees

and trade metal

for wood

–Art by me

a goblet full of blushing wine

a ripened pumpkin on the vine

the sunlight glinting off the sands

the patchwork quilt of farming lands

the azul claro overhead

the sky after the sun has fled

lilacs ooze a sweet bouquet–

we see these colors every day

our love of color never ends

we love our earth, we love our friends

the grass-fed fleet of mowers stilled

the bright red leaves of maples spilled

our chilly little town is filled

with sounds of schoolyard play

and yet my favorite part of Fall

is not the leaves nor children’s call

but just the simple fact that all

mosquitoes go away

One day the sun just disappeared

We knew not where it went

And as we searched the blackened sky

Our local space unbent

The Earth was hurled into space

Our journey had begun

And so we sailed the icy void

To find another sun

And frozen deep in cryo-sleep

We slipped the cosmic stream

And one day thawed and woke to find

It all had been a dream