Sing an evensong of fog


night fog is my friend

in her grey coat of rain

I'm in her and she's in me

It's then that I feel no pain


Just two gray girls

to us the rain feels fine

actually preferring dark wet

to the bright sunshine


Fog to the benighted 

is dull, ugly and plain

colors all washed out 

to grayscale by the rain


Even the synonyms 

Get us grey girls wrong

so harsh and judgmental

misunderstood is our song


Gray they say is soul-less

passionless, dull and pale

insipid, wan, lifeless 

used up, worn and stale


I say they're short-sighted

the ones without the soul

the boring and the limited

half ones who're never whole


They're not lacking vision

They just refuse to see 

They've blinded themselves 

so they only view in 2D 


They're soldiers not thinkers

tippling the Kool-Aid

being only what they're told 

gullible and well-played


I feel sorry for the poor

dimmed and sightless eye

that leaves without living 

never even able to cry 


Come to the dark blue side 

it's glooming out right now

we'll meander the darkening path

I'll be glad to show you how


For the nicest dreamings

look past the color scale

go beyond the Kodachrome

to the many shades of pale


They're not obvious but

commoner than you think

like fairies, you only miss them

if you turn away or blink


gloom isn't a bad word

as many folks attest

it speaks of quiet settling

ourselves down to rest 


But before we go to sleep

let's quick take a peek 

if lovely is what you're after

night is where to seek


beauty in deep woods

silver, purple pearl night

silhouettes of fiddler fern

skeletal in dark light


A shadow box of figures

like bones in an x-ray 

a negative in fogged shroud 

the evening creatures at play


a living zoetrope outside

What larks, Pip, have we

our nature kaleidoscope

no admission, it's all free


Quick don't miss it

the shadow and light dance

and flora with fauna waltz

in their after-hours prance


And the only way to view

is to sit with fog of night

I promise you'll never see

such a magical play of light


Stripped of all the colors

past reds, greens and blues

to the language of night

misty-moon and twilight hues


come hear the windchimes

as on the breeze they sing

a private little evensong

as faraway bells ring


So are you ready

to leave the color world behind?

Just for a little while to

find a foggy state of mind?


Then tell your charcoal story

use words, ink and pen

if you don't like it no worry

you can start all over again


The shadows will still be there

when the colors have gone away

because deep dusk and gloaming 

is here with us to stay.


Hallelujah, let's be dreamers. 










Happy Birthday to me

Let me preface this poem by saying that while I do appreciate the kind things my now family has done for my birthday, I don't really care for big deals made of it. My family of origin wasn't either. They were more interested in themselves and their other kids. So I'm not used to or comfortable with being the center of attention, especially for a birthday which everyone has one a year. I do,  however, find it a good time to pause, bookmark and consider. 


Why is it some people make 

such a big deal of their day of birth

as if they had accomplished 

some huge feat of priceless worth?


Why do they act so arrogant 

and entitled to crowns worn

instead of just recognizing 

all they did was to be born?


There are probably a lot of reasons

some of arrogance and pride

while others over celebrate

because as kids they had to hide


But strangely the hidden ones

are the very ones who don't 

celebrate themselves at all

while those who should cut back, won't  


There's something very telling 

about someone who celebrates themselves

with great gusto while expecting us  

to behave like their helper elves


It says they see themselves 

as exalted and on a higher plane

it's quite awkward to behold 

when a person is so vain


It's even more difficult for us

who were not celebrated

honoring those who fly too high

reinforces just  how low we rated


we're already expected to honor 

everyone else at our own expense 

especially the already too puffed up

it's such hypocritical nonsense


Once I got a little boy's toy 

stupid birthday gift for a teen

then expected to share with tots

a free sitter is how I was seen


their birthdays were holy days 

of obligation and I must attend

with costly gifts I couldn't afford

they were so damned easy  to offend


A $.25  stinky used shirt 

was good enough for me

they made sure I felt shunned

giving daughter two a new PC


Maybe my rant about birthdays

now makes a little more sense

their greed expected big bucks

while begrudging me a few cents


gaslighting that I was transactional

it's not just about what we spend

but when I was doing the giving 

I'd better shell out without end


my birthday was a time for them

to humiliate, hurt and shame

I'm just happier to stay

out of their crazy cruel game


The way to heal as I see it

is to see us all as God sees 

The proud and haughty he casts down

while exalting the meek and lowlies


So for my birthday this year

I'm giving myself permission to be

done with catering to big heads

On work on enjoying being me


I'll give if it makes me feel good

but if giving hurts I will not 

the beggars can just keep begging

I've nothing more for that lot. 




God bless the moon and God bless we


I love our earth moon

she shines with ambient light

her job is to guide us to sleep

with her quiet night bright


In daytime we need our star sun

Her energy and broad day light

but come the evening dusk

we need dear moon's twilight


I'm a child of dark light

being a lunar girl suits me

calming souls in darkness

is my own true destiny


I'd rather be reflective 

I'm happy to immerse

I'm just a little satellite

not center of the universe

(thank God)


we each have a light that's true

we can choose to shine or not

but it comes from a higher power

we tend to forget that a lot 


We think we're the alpha and omega

on us God should attend

Like we're gods and goddesses

When it's to Him we should bend


We let delusions blot our light

we get into mischief of all kinds

When we hog the glory and 

get too big in our own minds


when God is in charge

the source, power and light

when we stop blocking him

he gets the job done right


my grandad loved a song

about letting the lower lights burn

so sinking sailors can find hope 

when to that light they turn


God is the lighthouse 

he's the mighty Fresnel lens

But our job's to light the shore

so boats find happy ends


I'm working to keep my 

little birthday candle bright

It's better to start a spark

than curse the dark of night


The moon and me are pals

we each know our place

I'm happy to be the shadow

I'll let the sun light up space


Being a shadow is not bad

unless you're expected to be

just a reflection of other people 

or a piece of property


I'll be moon to God's son

all day and all night

but I'll be damned if let them

alevet again douse my fire light


So that's a contradiction

do I reflect or do I shine?

Well I think it's a bit of both

God's the big light and the little one's mine


Remember Stellaluna the bat?

her names explains the plight

Like her we all are

both moon and starlight



"Let the Lower Lights Be Burning" (Paul Phillip Bliss, sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford)

"I see the moon and the moon sees me" Meredith Wilson

Stellaluna Janell Cannon








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