Come and Go With Me

There's a place I long to be,

Come and go with me

To the cottage by the sea.

In the early morn we hear

The lobster boats as they go to sea,

And listen to the seagulls cry

As they dive and soar across the sky.

When the sun begins to set

We'll walk along the beach

Listening to the crashing waves

As they crawl within our reach,

Come and go with me.

There's a place I long to be

Come and go with me,

To a cabin in the Smokies,

In the state of Tennessee.

We'll walk the trails together,

Climb to the waterfalls

And listen to the coyotes' mournful call.

We'll grill out in the evening

Within the campfire's glow,

We'll remember days gone by

And gaze at the star filled sky.

Come and go with me.

There's a place I long to be,

Come and go with me.

It's called eternity.

There will be no pain or sorrow

Only endless blessed tomorrows.

We'll dance with all the angels

We'll dine with royalty.

We'll walk the streets of gold

and never more grow old,

The heavenly choir will start the song

And all the saints will sing along.

Come and go with me.

Maine

The two paintings above were both painted on masonite using a palette knife.  My references were photos that I took on one of my many trips to the coast of Maine.  The top painting is of the Pemaquid Lighthouse.

Smokey Mountains

These are oils on canvas I painted from photographs taken in the Smokey Mountains.

This is an oil on stretched canvas that I painted from a photograph I found on the internet.

Baby Mockingbird

We set together

in the early evening

the mockingbirds returned

time and again

to a nearby tree.

Were they feeding

someone?

Again we watched,

with my camera in tow

I climbed the tree.

Perched on a branch

near the nest

he stood--terrified

soft gray and white

hairs standing straight out

I looked into his eyes

I was not a predator.

They came fast and swift

swooping down from

many directions

the love of the parents

for the child

you would die for him

but you must live for him.

Darkness descents, the mimicking

goes on into the night

repeating and repeating.

The Easel

Light splashed this morning on a barren easel

Sketches lay scattered on the floor.

Tubes of paint were squeezed

Into distorted shapes.

The scent of spirits filled the air,

A vase of fresh picked flowers

Struggled to hold up their heads.

An untouched canvas stood

Waiting the artist's brush.

The telephone rings,

The empty easel still waits as

The light fades.

Cumberland Crown

I live in a forest on an island.

My arching branches reach out, down and up.

We enjoy our solitude,

Draping Spanish moss makes it's home on my branches

And sways with a breeze.

The ocean reaches out grasping at my arms

The wetlands protect me

And in my shade wild horses rest.

Masked bandits pass in the night

In search of food.

An armored creature cautiously meanders

Below my low hanging branches.

I hear the tapping of a woodpecker

On a distant tree.

Mankind comes and walks the pathways

That I line

And our canopy gives them shade.

I have stood here forever and my

Arms are weary.

The stories I have been a witness to

Are endless.

I will be here till the strong wind

And the driving rain and the encroaching

Tides pull me from my home and I return to the earth.

Where I'm From

I am from yesterday,

I wore a dress made from a flour sack.

I am from the snow, the ice and the winter wind.

I wear long stockings that won't stay up.

I am from made up stories, not from books

not from television.

The stories are continued from week to week.

I am from your sunshine,

You are from mine.

I am from endless lines in long black robes,

singing Holy, Holy.

I am from Cartys, Browns, Pattersons,

Meat and potato pie.

I am from shamrocks, blarney stones

and glorious green hills.

I am from a ship and a boy of twelve

coming to a promised land.

January 10th, 2009

Welcome to my blog page!  I will be sharing some of my paintings and poetry with you on this site, so check back often.  Let me know what you think!