OF Fairest Face and Midnight Hair

When tempted by an evil
bearing legendary fruit
did hunger conquer innocence,
can history refute

this tale of human weakness that
has passed from ancient times.
Is this a song of simple truth
or fodder for our rhymes?

Evicted from her garden by
a knowledge never sought,
was she villain, then, or victim
in a play that time forgot?

A woman, real, or issue of
imaginary birth--
of fairest face and midnight hair--
did Snow White grace the Earth??

© Copyright 2005 Dean Neighbors

The Snail and the Sports Car

A tiny sports car sputtered in,
a snail was at the wheel.
The gas attendant, with a grin,
said, "Snail, are you for real?

I 'preciate your right to cruise
and that red color's swell...
and naturally I can't refuse
to serve you here at 'Shell'...

but, I must say it's odd enough
now, snail, you must confess...
for such as you to drive and stuff...
say, why'd you paint that 'S'

there on the door, the driver's side,
in glowing shades of blue?"
The snail rose up with stately pride
and said, "Hey you would too...

I'm tired of hearing people say
'there goes that lowly snail'...
and night by night and sunny day
you know, they'd never fail...

to laugh at me, my lack of speed,
until I bought this car,
but, see me now, my soul's been freed,
I'm pretty near a star!

They teased and snorted; mocked my pace,
my life was filled with woe...
but now, they shout, as by I race...
look at that S car go!!!"

© 2004 Dean Neighbors 

Owed to Bureaucracy

~Inspired by a bad day at work~


What tedium comes with bureaucracy,
what great waste of time is entailed,
intrinsically fraught with hypocrisy,
before you begin you have failed.

In heaven they process efficiently,
“perfection” and “timely” are norms,
to handle your transfer proficiently--
just die and then fill out these forms.

Interval

~ Interval ~ 3/10/02. This grew out of a discussion with my wife about the linearity of time. I was trying to convince her that I was her first love even if I wasn't because time does not run in a straight line in hours and minutes....but by the importance of the event...therefore, the first thing that happened in the history of time....the most important... was our first kiss. Makes sense right??? Well, it does to me.

 

I see the truth unfolding in my dreams,
that love exists as interwoven time...
and time is just as simple as it seems,
as basic as the meter in a rhyme.

Our time together doesn't have to play
into the universe as now defined,
for time's a mere division of the day,
to universal pendulums confined...

but, linear, kinetic, all askew,
arrayed in any manner that may be,
no matter how defined, my love for you
exists in every moment granted me.

And only God himself could grant us this...
the universe begins with our first kiss.


~ © 2002 By: W.D.Neighbors ~

Albert

A patent clerk of Bern, in early morn,

would catch the crowded trolley and would go

to work and back. But, like no other born,

he thought of things no common mind could know.

He saw that as the trolley moved along

the working folks onboard would then perceive

the next preceding lamp post (“am I wrong?”)

before a man afoot. “I do believe,

said Albert to himself, “reflected light,

since we are moving to the lamp,

would be arriving early to our sight”.

He mopped his brow, it being rather damp.

No magic but the magic that you make,

enfolded by the thought of what must be

divided by the trolley that you take

and factored by what Albert knew as “E”

Just the One

A single step in time’s immortal height,
I paused to smell the roses, wet with dew,
to watch the moon ascend majestic night
and, in that moment, fell in love with you.

And all our moments grew from just the one,
a solitary portion of an hour--
but, oh my love, that moment was the sun
that gave its light to grow this lovely flower.

In such a moment miracles occur --
when love’s a rose whose fragrance fills the air,
when past recalls how beautiful you were
and present how beloved. Then and there

I chose to give my heart, to stop pretending--
to live within this moment, never ending.

Lullaby

In yesterday’s clutches she trembled,
recalling her previous role.
The feelings, recaptured, resembled
a wind stirring leaves in her soul.

In soft ocean breezes of hindsight
our hearts chose a course of release
and love sailed away in the moonlight
embarked in a vessel of peace.

A lullaby sung in a whisper,
a yesterday saved with a smile,
in passing my memory kissed her
as clouds tumbled by single file.

Crystal

Refracted by the lens of time,
the memories appear
that eyes may hold them up to view,
that hearts may hold them dear.

These images of rainbows lost,
of sunshine through the rain,
the mind will calculate the cost,
the soul will gauge the pain.

The beauty of a broken past
the heart will hold as truth.
The rest will fade, as distant storms,
as does the flush of youth.