Category Archives: heart

Last Call for Love

When I was called to war, it was before a love entanglement and I am thankful for that.  But leaving love and loved ones behind has always been a sorrowful aspect of soldiers going off to serve their country.  Whereas, many situations are adjusted to, many a soldier leaves for war unsettled in his predicament, especially when it is about unrequited love.

Last Call for Love

 

Call me if you want; tell me if you can.
You ought to know for sure by now, the kind of man, I am.
I won’t get flippant and lose control or try to make you cry
or make you do things you don’t like…. or even make you try.
Call me if you want; tell me how you are.
Tell me how your day has been ‘cause you’re the most by far
I truly miss from all the things…. I like in every way
that I would like close by my side, each and every day.

Call me if you want; I need to see you now.
We can’t afford to be apart; time will not allow
for us to try and figure out a plan to see us through
for much has passed before our eyes; we 
didn’t have a clue.
Call me if you want but my train is leaving soon.
I need to hold you in my arms beneath the silver moon
that casts a chilling, telling spell…. from where it sits above.
Come and hold me in this spell….ain’t it time to bind this love?

I wish, at least, you would have come to give me one last look
to see your smile in every face that pops up in this book
that I must read to calm me down…. headed back to war
for I’ll ‘live’ that wishful vision; you in the station door.
I’d rather you wouldn’t call me now; it’s time for me to heal
I know I won’t forget you ‘cause my memories all have ‘feel.’
But if it be I don’t come back, you’ll always know my love.
Sorry it was so hard on you; keep faith in God, above.

copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Mornings After Harvest

After months without a view because of the beautiful, tall cornfields, the distant horizon can be a mesmerizing sight, filled with the smells and sounds of a different, yet familiar, place.

Looking east from where I live, the lagging warm temperatures of day create a hazy, foggy pastoral scene,  of a morning,  across the recently harvested cornfields  and it is a blessing in magnitude hearing the geese feeding frantically and invisibly until the fog lifts.  Then when the sun begins its rise, the shadowy glimpses of distant objects on the horizon command your every instinct as you look, listen and smell the uniquely, coming day.

You are alive and you have taken the time to notice it!  Have a great day and try not to take it for granted…..look, listen and smell of it….for you are blessed to be alive!

Mornings After Harvest

Across the trampled field of corn, filled with geese in the early morn’,
  the distant horizon peeks beneath the fog
that partially hides the distant train headed north in a misty rain
  as my ears pick up the howl of a farmer’s dog
chasing geese along the fence, in and out of a fog, so dense,
  the geese themselves don’t know which way to go.
And all you hear are gaggle screams, like those heard…. in nightmarish dreams,
  as a lifting fog exposes the new day’s glow.

That’s how it is each country morn’, looking east where once was corn,
  across the fields now flattened for the plow
that soon will turn the stubble down exposing all the black and brown
  after feeding every deer and bird and cow
that lurk and wait for harvest day so they can romp and eat and play
  before the winter winds begin to blow
and life again is cold and harsh; birds all dreaming of the southern marsh,
  and the rest of us await the coming snow.

copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Filed under bloggers, Blogging, countryside, Fall, fog, God, heart, Life, Love, mental health, mood, Nature, poetry, prairie, snow

Supposedly

For those of you who follow me avidly in my email, I have finally returned home from my trip to Colorado, where I had an enjoyable time in the mountains and with family and cousins.  Hope all has been good with you.

 

Supposedly

 

Supposedly, the world is such
that what we sense is real
but struggle to confirm what we can’t touch,
though there’s a ‘presence’  we can feel.
These things unseen all factor in
and influence us every day
which is why…. involuntarily
we sometimes lose our way.

But has this always been the case
in all of life….before?
In centuries past with slower pace
was the ‘presence’ less or more?
Was it there at all to help life move
on structured whims of chance
or down a road toward distant gate,
it positioned in advance?

There is a journey all will take
like a nightly trip to bed
and what we know, we will forsake
and go to dream….instead
and know the ‘presence’ that 
we’ve felt
that’s led us through the strife
and shared the moments that guided us
on destined road of life…..

supposedly.

 

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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‘Cause This Is Saturday

We all have feelings that are difficult to explain.  The “aloofness” of Saturday has always been one of those feelings for me – my ‘who cares’ day.  Usually a lot is accomplished……or nothing.  And even when I worked Saturdays regularly, the ‘feeling’ made it my favorite day, even when it was my busiest.  I would bet that you have such a day.

Have a great Saturday.

 

‘Cause This Is Saturday

 

What do you do…. when you don’t know
just what you want to do?
Your mind is racing and primed to go
but the heart’s without a clue.
There’s a million things that must be done
but there seems no easy way
to get the heart in working mood
‘cause this is Saturday.

 

Certain days project a ‘feel’
that makes you want to work.
Some days seem to be surreal
and seem to have no perk.
It’s funny how they affect us all
and control how far we stray
this day, for this heart, the mind doesn’t matter
‘cause this is Saturday.

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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Bought, Borrowed, Befriended and Blessed

 

Bought, Borrowed, Befriended and Blessed

 

I guess you’d say, he loved her such
that he could feel her pain
and though he 
didn’t see her much
he always knew when rain
was pouring on her life;
covering her like a glove;
and yet she never 
wavered with her love.

They met just once when she was young
and studying hard at school
out east where, then, she lived among
staunch groups with hardened rule.
And when it came, he grazed her path
from then she always knew
that she would wait and know his love, anew.

So, when in years it came to be
the paths they took, entwined
she knew just why, as did he,
though the years had been unkind.
But it 
didn’t matter anymore;
the past took away the ‘blue’
their love’s piercing color….now the brightest hue.

There’s not a moral to grasp upon
to harness the whims of love
to give one insight to bear down on
in search we’re impatient of
Love’s hardened rule is to survive
and it hides in disguises you can hold, at best;
bought, borrowed, befriended and blessed.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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The ‘Volcano Sistas’

Watching the grand kids at play is a wonderful experience at moments when our life needs a little excitement, don’t you think?  Back to pretend land and the fascination of our youth.  Have a great day!

The ‘Volcano Sistas’

Though four, they wander like most youngsters do
and you wonder just what is about to ensue,
when two little minds are playing their games
in faraway places…. only they know the names.

Though deep in their world, they know you are there
watching them play from your nice, comfy chair,
and ever so often they’ll give you a glance,
then return to their ‘place’ in a fairy-like dance.

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They talk in strange voices of differing pitch
befitting of fairies or a wicked old witch.
They dress up in clothes matching each different mood
as they drink pretend tea that they’ve recently brewed.

They come up with names right out of the air;
a name that goes well with a girl in orange hair.
And they banter and barter in their magical play
in the faraway places…. they go to each day.

When it’s time to interrupt ‘cause their lunch time is near,
they freeze for a moment, not completely cohere.
Each differently thinking of what they should do
then hand-in-hand dance…. through fairy portal, to you.

2grls

And when you address them and call them by name
a mistake you have made and they’re quick to exclaim
they’ve come from far places and rode many twistas
and they’re not Jude and Zoe….they’re the ‘Volcano Sistas.’

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under beauty, dolls, dream, fairy, fairy tale, Family, Friends, God, grandchildren, heart, kids, Life, Love, mental health, mind, people, poetry, young girls

“No Bed, Grandpa”

Visiting at my daughter’s home in Denver recently, tensions always rose each night when the time for the twins’ bedtime approached.

And although they seem to be starting to adjust to their ‘plight’ each night, one or the other still seems to ‘fight’ going to bed, in her own way.

Grabbing a blanket and holding close to a chair, a strong defense of crying is applied in rhythmic surges toward the rule ‘enforcers’…. in hopes of weakening their demands….and of course, to no avail.  In the end, though, they both got serenaded to sleep by grandpa.

 

“No Bed, Grandpa”

In stare through moistened, reddened eyes
having wiped away her tears,
she sends her ‘arrows’ in disguise
in stare through moistened, reddened eyes.
They pierce the heart not by surprise
with sweetened vengeance that coheres
in stare through moistened, reddened eyes
having wiped away her tears.

Holding her blanket against her cheek
leaning against the chair,
she glares defiantly; her eyes bespeak.
holding her blanket against her cheek.
My heart is wavering in heightened beat,
still captured by her stare
holding her blanket against her cheek
leaning against the chair.

Saying ‘I love you’ with poignant heart,
I let my ‘arrows’ fly,
whose sting doth make my love impart
saying ‘I love you’ with poignant heart.
“No bed, grandpa,” is the difficult part
in the tears of a four year old’s cry….
saying ‘I love you’ with poignant heart,
I let my ‘arrows’ fly.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Filed under beauty, Friends, heart, kids, Life, Love, poetry, triolets, young girls