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
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
bittersweet
© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
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
festive gathering
they drink they dance and they flirt
and yet i write verse
© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
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
the bully's pulpit
If Teddy could but eyeroll
that's not what I meant
© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
nothing comes as what it seems
perfection promised is a dream
reality eschews
guarantees are only worth
the ease with which they are disbursed
bureaucracy ensues
techno-whatsis cutting edge
should simplify life's dreary dredge
engenders more reviews
margins meant for pers'nal play
are getting thinner every day
efficiency induced
it's true we all should have a job
but meaning's scarce in swelling mob
truth is we all are being robbed
by leaders who refuse
but wait
turn the problem on its head
dependency their hope to bred
remember they're just overhead
we lead by what we do
© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
Inspired by the critical lack of leadership.
