DELIVERED

“Every time I told you I was just passing through
What my heart didn’t know was all roads lead to you.”
~ Chicago – All Roads Lead To You Lyrics

Not a young man, yet my heart still tends to roam.
Follow my heart. The truth is found within
something beautiful and more precious than gold.
I behold your beauty and it caresses my heart.
You, an angel transfixed; a mixture of light and shadow,
a soothing vision;
a memory that lives within me.

‘When did you strike my heart?’ my mind asks!
I delve into the depths of these thoughts, a
fraid of where they lead and I turn away.
But this voice from the inner sanctum of my spirit
frees me and my mind sees.
Your beauty lives in the sideways glances
of tired eyes burned into their memory,
Your light travels beyond your womanly realm.
In dreams of wonder you rest.
I desire your heart, a most cherished dream,
passionate and determined.
The dream I dream is a journey,
I yearn to fill the space beside you as you sleep.

I am contrite,
a man not ashamed to soil his hands,
never one to rest,
doing his best to satisfy.
Willing to die for the love he bears.
I do not dare deny any man his share.
Over the distant miles, you touch me.
Your whispered prayers grace my ears.
I carry my heart to you, the one from whom I withdrew.
It is there where I belong.
My steps beat a path, rising and falling; a steady pace.
Every place I seek it, my heart confirms it is true.
All roads lead to you!

© Walter J Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: Musical Muse

 

THIS DAY SO GIVEN

We awaken to this new day.
The morning calls, freshly whispering
in the vacant shadows of night,
a sunrise in sight on the horizon,
rising ever-upward to her perch.
The church of this new and blessed day
dawns upon us. We pray that every new day
possesses her beauty and grace, a place
where the angels stand, hand-in-hand,
offering their songs in the rustle of each leave,
the hush of the breeze and in every newborn’s sneeze.
A morning; as new as any beginning
for which we can wish. A day, as precious
as the life we offer to Him in our every action
It is pleasing in our sight
that this right moment is presented to us;
this gift is given to us.
Accept this new day in the spirit of life.

For no matter what the mortal men predict,
it is a new and blessed day.
If clouds should form, it is a sign
to appreciate all you have when the sun
sits high in a blue sky. If rain should appear,
know that it will eventually clear,
leaving the bloom of flowers
and the freshness of a start anew.
Any obstacle was placed before you to teach you.
To teach you to persevere.
To teach you acceptance of the things you cannot change.
To give the lesson that all God offers
in each new day is a blessing.
It is never more than we can handle.
It is always a manifestation of His love for us.
Embrace this gift for it is given in love.
Embrace this day, your life, your family, your friends,
and the time you have to embrace them.
This is a great place that emerges from the shadow of night;
this day so given.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: Blessing

…BUT MUGLY GOES STRAIGHT TO THE BONE

They called him Jimmy Mudflap,
the lousy greasy comb over did not flatter him.
But he kept his Capo clean. No spatter
from any gatt got on nary a spat
when Jimmy laid out. He hung
close to the wheels with the motor running.
He was gunning for consigliere,
but would settle for some muscle.
In any tussle, Mudflap had it covered.
He was discovered with tire tread
across his head in the Fine China factory.
Jimmy Mudflap sleeps with the dishes!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik

 

WHITE RABBIT

Alive and well and living
in a hole underground.
The only sound is that
of little feet scampering.
The late, white rabbit needs
time to find his groove.
He better move quicker, before
he gets stuck in a sticky
wicket. Near the thicket
the tea is served and
he has swerved into
the queen’s palace.
And what about Alice! Alice?
Who the hell is Alice?

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: Underground

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

poets are a different breed

we see the world askew
for words we use
and thoughts we choose
appear to us as new

but these old adages carry weight,
and have for many years
and how a poet expresses them
can bring one full to tears

we all have come to fill the world
with poems, prose and rhymes
even if the words we choose
were used a million times

ideas can take a different slant
with every twist and turn
to see from new perspectives
surely gives us much to learn

so we come here nearly every day
to stoke poetic fires
to share with all our where-with-all
and profess our heart’s desires

flock together poets all
whether plain or pretty
take this prompt and have a ball
and write your little ditty

birds of a feather; poets en mass
joined in this community
writing beauty from within
to give our purpose unity

So if you have a way with words
and aren’t afraid to show it
join our ilk and speak your heart
and you just may be a poet

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: Community

A NEW DAY DAWNING

Here’s how it will go…

The clock will crow,
the horns and noise makers
will shake, rattle and roll
and I will have settled into a simple
“celebration” for the new year.
Here, all will be quiet and still.
The girls will call to extend wishes.
We’ll have eaten our pickled fishes
(a good luck endeavor
I’ve never understood), but
it is good my wife and I
will still keep these traditions.

Speaking of which, this is
the way the year begins every time.
I’m on the recliner in
Twilight Zone Marathon overload,
and the cold has her bundled
on the couch deep in slumber.
The ball falls as the countdown
resounds. The calendar flips
and it’s a blip on our radar…

We will be set to begin all over.
A new day dawning. Another
quiet morning in a new light.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: A Cause For Celebration

ICARUS COLLECTED

www.uncyclopedia.wikia.com
http://www.uncyclopedia.wikia.com

Strung and tied
woven into the fabric
of a fool’s folly.
Sol beckons him
he commits, Wings fit
and affixed on his back.
Waxed and molded, feathers
flocked together, climbing.
To the sun he ascends.
the heat rendering his apparatus
useless. Icarus falls
“landing” before the last feather
flits to earth.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

KITTERY

Uncle Harry was a sailor; a submariner with tales to tell. Our families would alternate visits from one summer to the next. Dad’s blue Plymouth Belvedere wagon was the magic carpet that swept the eight of us (Mom, Dad and six kids) up to Kittery, Maine every other year. The following summer Harry and my Aunt Marianne would bring their six kids home to Lackawanna. Sixteen of us cramped into whichever house served as accommodations.  Sometimes relations would strain toward the end of even the happiest of visits, but it was what it was. The cousins paired up closely in age and we played, fought, talked, shared, loved and cried when the time came to return home. Did I mention Harry lived on Love Street? No matter how our visits had gone, we always hated to leave Love behind.

My brother Ken was a sailor; a submariner with tales to tell. Serving at the same base, the place brought back memories and afforded us a chance to return to Love once more in our adulthood. It is equally heartwarming and sad to be one of your own memories.

Embers of love live
in the hearth of kith and kin;
always glows within.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

YOU ARE THE MOONLIGHT

A shadowed silhouette that walks softly,
a mirage in my night. Right before my eyes
you appear, standing in profile and who dispatches
denial and plants a smile where sadness had lingered.
With the touch of bent fingers on the soft spot
of my heart, I start to feel your energy, alive
with the light you bring. And my heart sings,
songs of a well-worn love. Because, you dance
in the heaven above and with a smattering of stars,
you bless me along with cool breezes that seize
our shared comfort and allows it to prosper.
You saunter in the night, and stir my tide,
a side of me others very rarely see.
You are quite a sight in this dreary night.
And you make me delight in what your heart reveals,
I praise the evening that you appeared in my sky!
The moon in my night. The breath to my sigh.
You are the moonlight!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: Moon-Muse

LORD GODIVA LETS OFF STEAM

Godiva

She’s off again!
That brazen hussy on horseback.
The fact is that the crowds in Coventry
congregate in wait for a glimpse
or a gleaming of her steaming lack
of attire. I am thankful for her hair
for there within, her wherewithal
is all concealed. Nothing is revealed
until the wind blows. And so it goes.
Exhibitionist or harlot, a scarlet letter
would have nowhere to hide.
The missus has no pride or shame,
this Lady just sullies my good name!
There she goes, she’s off again!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: Poetical Spouses