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D. Thurmond Aka Jef (James Everett Falcon)

D. Thurmond Aka Jef (James Everett Falcon)

Brother's keeper

Ripples

We are ripples
On a never ending lakes,
Like those crystals
Too finely made, that breaks.
We are mortal
And bound to make mistakes,
But few will pray,
“God forgive us all.”

(1978)

Written under the name, "JEF".

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Altre opere di D. Thurmond Aka Jef (James Everett Falcon)...
Lula’s English Garden

Honeysuckle and Blue Bells In a backyard English Garden Some Dog Rose and Cowslip In an unlikely place called Harle… There is Ragged Robin, here and t…
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The Scary Dream

There’s so much to gain Too much to lose Our power brokers Are singing the blues So we can’t allow
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Singing in the Dark

In darkness, shadows hide Unseen by misting eyes. But who might seek the softer side Of phantoms and their cries? Those that drift to indigo
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Cycles of Sameness

A few hours Into the day’s renewing A light goes on And the coffee’s brewing The alarm goes off
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Living Life

In my mumbled, scattered, youth There was no purpose Just a happenstance appearance Of someone’s grand design. But as I grew and looked around
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Segment

There is a segment of man That can never be free. And it clings like a shadow, It’s name, ... Vanity. For all that man covets
5 Haiku Story, "Morning On The Farm"

The morning’s Sun peaks From behind black faced skylines That wait to be seen. Then the Rooster crows In hopes of waking others
As Far As He Can See

The old man stands on the cliff’s… Trying to make the words and music… He closed his eyes to see further Just beyond the whispers of the wi… Then he stretched out his arms and…
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What’s Cook-in, Santa?

Down the chimney came the Jolly f… It was obvious that the geezer had… With sack on his back, he slid dow… And landed on the stove, in the mi… My wife was glazing the Porker’s…
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Together, All Alone

Seated on a bolder In the midst of Yellowstone Reflecting on a Geyser And a Bison, all alone. Tis my place to unwind the springs
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Merry Ho-Ho!

Hopscotch oh house-tops The jolly fat man plays. They say he goes from here to ther… With his rambling Reindeer ways. You might believe and maybe you do…
The Festival of Sin

All the witches stoop and stir their smoking cauldrons While Warlocks choose the things that go within And the Wizards hide
Spring's Fever

The sunset glows And I wiggle my toes In the clover of this meadow, This spring has dawned On this fragrant lawn
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An Age in Parody

In the evening, in the twilight,… Of the coming of an age in parody Then I see another vision based o… But in the end, there is a song of… Scarlet red finds its way into my…
The Vagabond Poet

The dark and billowing clouds Drift gently from the sea And the salty air and ocean sounds Surround my lonely Cypress tree. It is a song to the senses
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