Dawn

On the trailing edge of night,

in a gallery on high,

hangs an ever-changing painting

on a canvas made of sky.

Using colors mixed from starlight

on a palette made of love,

He creates enduring splendor

in His work of art above.

At once static and dynamic

as it flows around the Earth,

it epitomizes hope

as it symbolizes birth...

it changes every moment,

stays a moment, then it's gone...

yet exists for all eternity;

the miracle of dawn.

~Dean Neighbors~

On the trailing edge of night,

in a gallery on high,

hangs an ever-changing painting

on a canvas made of sky.

Using colors mixed from starlight

on a palette made of love,

He creates enduring splendor

in His work of art above.

At once static and dynamic

as it flows around the Earth,

it epitomizes hope

as it symbolizes birth...

it changes every moment,

stays a moment, then it's gone...

yet it's constant through eternity;

the miracle of dawn.

Peggy Zuegma

Peg fueled my desire and my car
and I laid a plan and an egg.
I stepped to the challenge and bar
in courting disaster and Peg.

I held peggies hand and her jacket
and tripped on my words and her hem
according to buddy and hackett
my chances and ankles were slim

When I popped balloons and the question
she hammered out rules and some dents
I held Peggies hand and attention
her gaze and her dog were in tents.

I thought she'd show promise and up
but her beau won the girl and the day
left holding the bag and her pup
I was taken aback and away.

Jelly

I love the simple ways of you,

the black and white and lovely. Stark
simplicity is what you do;
it's sun or shadow, light or dark.

You dance your dance, you take your stand
the conversation’s short and sweet
with friends who, briefly, held your hand,
with those who offer life’s deceit.

And love lives in a reference book,
as lessons learned so long ago.
You know the page but never look
and, like as not, it’s better so.

“Oh, lunch.”, I hear you softly mutter, 
“Jelly, bread and peanut butter.”




I love the simple ways of you,
the black and white and lovely. Stark
simplicity is what you do,
it's sun or shadow, light or dark.

You dance your dance; you take your stand.
The conversation’s short and sweet
with friends who, briefly, held your hand,
with brownies that you'll never eat.

The past is just a reference book
with lessons learned from long ago.
You know the page but never look
and, like as not, it’s better so.

“Oh, lunch.”, I hear you softly mutter,
“Jelly, bread and peanut butter."



Jelly. V2


I love the simple ways of you,
the black and white and lovely. Stark
simplicity is what you do,
it's sun or shadow, light or dark.

You dance your dance; you take your stand.
The conversation’s short and sweet
with friends who, briefly, held your hand,
with lovers you may never meet.

The past is just a reference book
with lessons learned from long ago.
You know the page but never look
and, like as not, it’s better so.

“Oh, lunch.”, I hear you softly mutter, 
“Jelly, bread and peanut butter.”