Thursday, April 27, 2017

red again

I like the way the embers glow
in pyre all but dead
a little breath and blackened coal
consumed by cherry red
with total disregard that soon
all will be conflagration
the memory of what's to be
spark of anticipation

© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Friday, April 21, 2017


gently and so slowly placed
her hand upon his chest
he ceases inane prattle
closes eyes and takes a breath

the warmth of palm and fingers spreads
where once pervaded cold
in mind's eye he perceives a smile
for him - a thought too bold

for when he seeks to close the gap
and form a warm embrace
her hand holds firm the distance
resolute he keep his place

nearby but never intimate
for her a bridge too close
that he of all will never cross
despite eternal hope

to which they cling
through orbit neat
forever dancing

© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Sunday, April 9, 2017


yes I am but an insubstantial shade
to supple flesh and bone of which you're made
so comely and so cunningly arranged
to strike me dumb my heart and mind deranged

by grace and beauty writ upon the stel-
lar dust condensed to so sublime a shell
about the soul which as the sun burns bright
save one small flaw as blind as darkest night

to my existence though I oft draw near
you gaze right through eliciting a tear
of sadness equally unseen that seeks
to join the sea descended from my cheeks

the saddest aspect of this reverie
I'm just as  blind to others I should see.

© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Saturday, April 8, 2017


festive gathering
they drink they dance and they flirt
and yet i write verse

© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Saturday, April 1, 2017


journey long from done and yet
more often do I coast
as others pass I realize
to them reverse I float
a trick perspective likes to play
like mercury from earth
seems to proceed the other way
though vector's shared by both
but I digress and that's the point
it's often that I do
and dwell on moments in my past
the present points me to
though grayness has encumbered most
like when one night on jetty that I dove
to harvest lobsters from a nearby cove
I paused to look away
and in the haze heard cellos start to play
a too familiar tune
remembered most I reminisce
the wish for dive's end soon

© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved