Love & Beauty   Under The Poem Tree With Ron Purtlebaugh       GOD BLESS AMERICA  ST.AUGUSTINE NATURE  MEANDERINGS MEANERINGS TOO POEM TREE LEAVES NONSENSE & HUMOR   WANDERING WORDS BRANCHES AND TWIGSCOMMENTS & LINKS INDEXTABLE OF CONTENTS   "When Erato speaks, may I forever listen"    Love, is shielding with no thought of being shielded, Touching, with no thought of being touched, Caring, with no thought of being cared for, Holding, with no thought of being held, Requiring in no season, Yet treasures nothing more, Than being shielded, touched, cared for and held.                                             Ron Purtlebaugh            TO BE A WALL   NO NEW AGE KID, I WONDER IF, I'LL FALL IN LOVE AGAIN, NO TRYST TO LAST A YEAR OR TWO AS NOW IT SEEMS, THE YOUNG PERSIST IS REALLY LOVE, BUT THIS TO ME, AND DO INSIST, THAT TRUE LOVE IS A LIFE LONG THING, THAT STANDS THE TEST OF TIME AND MORE. PLANTED FIRMLY ON THE EARTH, WHERE TWO AS ONE CAN FACE THE WORST, SQUARELY LOOKING IN THE FACE, DISASTER, IF THEY MUST, AND HAVING DONE SO, FIND THERE IS ANOTHER STRENGTH, A BINDING, BONDING, SORT OF THING, THAT BRINGS THEM PEACE AND REALIZATION, TWO AS ONE IS STRENGTH INDEED. AND NEEDS, THAT ONE THE OTHER HAS, IS THEIRS ALONE, TO SPARE THE OTHER SEES THEM FREED, FREE TO LOVE THE OTHER MORE, TO SHORE UP WHERE THE WEAKER FALLS AND STANDING ALWAYS EVER NEAR, IF FORBID, THEY HEAR A CALL, PERCHANCE THEIR SHORING UP HAS FAILED, TO CATCH THE OTHER, BREAK THEIR FALL, A WALL FOR THEM TO LEAN UPON, A PLACE TO LAY THEIR TROUBLED LOAD, TO REST THEIR HEAD, A PLACE TO CATCH THE TEARS THEY SHED, TO SHIELD THEM IN THE BLOWING COLD. THIS IS TRUE LOVE AFTER ALL, TO BE A WALL, FOR ON A WALL THE ROBIN SINGS, FOR ON A WALL THE CEILING LEANS, FOR ON A WALL THE ROUGH SEAS QUELLED AND THESE THE THINGS THAT MAKES US FEEL SUPPORTED, SHIELDED, LOVED AND HELD. AND HERE I SIT, WITHOUT A WALL, NO ONE TO SHARE OR CARE FOR ME, OR HEAR ME IN THE LONELY HOURS IF I FALL AND NEEDING HELP, I CRY OUT LOUD, THERE'S NO ONE NEAR TO HEAR THE CALL, NO PLACE HAVE MY TEARS TO FALL. I WANT TO HEAR THE ROBIN SING, I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE AGAIN. IF PERCHANCE I FIND A WALL, TO LEAN UPON, A WALL TO HOLD MY EVERY ALL, A WALL THAT'S STRONG TO HOLPEN UP, A WALL TO STOP ANOTHER'S  FALL, ROUND ABOUT I'LL PLANT IT WELL WITH FLOWERS AND THE SMELL OF LIFE, AND OF COURSE, A WALL THAT MOLDS AND HOLDS THE STRIFE, THE PROBLEMS OF THE ONE THAT SHARES AND CARES FOR ME, AND WANTS TO SPEND THEIR LIFE WITH ME, THAT WANTS TO SIT UPON MY WALL AND PROUD TO BE AND SIT WITH ME. IF CRYING OUT, THEY'RE NEAR TO ME. IF NEED BE, IN THE LONELY HOURS,  IF A TEAR SHOULD EVER FALL, THEY HEAR MY CALL, IT'S NOT SO MUCH, AFTER ALL, JUST TO WANT TO BE A WALL.   RON PURTLEBAUGH         I seek to share a soft hello   The lonely times when rhymes are mine, when other's seek a soft hello, I would like to hear that too, even with the sacrifice, the loss of time, if one could toss a word like share, being there with someone who, really, truly cared to share, being richer for it too, when you do, with a word like loss.   It's said that opposites attract, pulling to to equalize, while likes, in this case opposite, in their sameness, separating, push apart      space expanding, less demanding, on a heel they turn and part, left is left, gone is gone, which of either knows how long? A day? A year? The coin is tossed. This the word, when spoke with share, I questioned could it be so mixed, with a word like loss.   Yes and so, most rightly know, and trust you this, it oft' times is, and to our shame, sharing only disappearance from the list, a time of loss when someone's missed, a tryst with death. And we enlist in this to share? How unfair, this mixing share, to me at least, with a word like loss.   Still imparted with a life, my quarry still, good night kisses, morning words, though I awake in solitaire, I seek to share a soft hello, the word empowered, flex it's wings, bring another to me here, someone to share, someone to care, who'll leave me not to share my life, with a word like loss.   Ron Purtlebaugh   NOWHERE, I WANT TO BE     ACTUALLY QUITE RARE, TO CATCH HER THERE, TAKING SOME TIME TO STAND AND STARE, LOOKING FAR OFF, SOMEWHERE, NOWHERE. BLANK WERE HER EYES, IN MY VIEW BY HER SIDE, THE POOLS THAT I KNEW IF I SAW, SHE WOULD HIDE. THERE WAS A PLACE SHE WOULD GO OFF SOMEWHERE, WHEN  I SPEAK OF IT NOW, I CALL IT SOMEWHERE, WHEN ACTUALLY TO ME IT WAS REALLY NOWHERE, NOWHERE, AT LEAST, SHE WOULD EVER TAKE ME. A PLACE I KNEW THEN I NEVER COULD GO, BUT A PLACE I WANTED TO BE. IT WASN'T THE SPACE THAT A PERSON MUST HAVE, IT WASN'T HER PLACE, THAT EVERYONE NEEDS, SHE HAD BOTH OF THOSE, AS DID I.  CLARITY ALLOWS, I OFFER YOU THIS, HAVE YOU BEEN WITH SOMEONE QUITE ILL? SOMEONE LOVED DEARLY, THAT LOVED YOU AS WELL, BUT SUDDENLY, YOU WEREN'T EVEN THERE? THAT, WAS THE SOMEWHERE SHE OFTEN WOULD GO, THAT TO ME, WAS ALWAYS NOWHERE. NOW THAT SHE'S THREE THOUSAND MILES GONE, I WONDER, IS IT PLAUSIBLE NOW, COULD I FIND THAT PLACE, OFF IN THE AIR,  HER NOWHERE, IN MY SOMEWHERE, WHEN NOW I'M ALONE, AS SHE SEEMED THEN, IF I STOOD AND STARED IN THE AIR? I CAN ONLY ASK, I DARE NOT TRY, IF I DID AND I FAILED, IT WOULD START ME TO CRY, MORE THAN I ALREADY CRY, TO FIND I SHALL NEVER, YET ALWAYS WILL BE, IN HER NOWHERE, THAT'S SOMEWHERE TO ME.   RON PURTLEBAUGH       Of Loneliness And You   Her song sang out a thousand mists of blooms and drops of dew sweet notes and chords upon my ears that brought a sunrise, new.   The wanton miseries of night as if a dream, removed, in dissipating shades of dark a song so sweet and true.   I listened most intently for, each yielding note that blessed, that spoke my heart a simple tune, her arrow through me pierced. She sang of times and days gone by, of strained securities, a life that was, but nevermore, her words held close to me. Might be it so, the pain we share, though lives have never touched, she seems to want to hold me so, her love, she gives so much. Please sing to me, please touch my face, please see my bidding light, come put me in your darkened sky and let me shine your nights.   Ron Purtlebaugh                   Come Speak To Me   And why, my sweet, dost thou retreat, upon thy golden isle, and touch me not with words of love, who longs to see your smile? And why, pray tell, though I, my love, but thousands miles to east, so feel the distances of stars, are 'tween us now, at least? O' touch me please, with tenderness, come bid me, to you send, the love I have inside for thee, my need to call thee friend. Come rest thy head upon my thigh, come let me touch thy face, and let your name drip from my lips, in words of satin lace. Come hear me speak soft words of love, to thee upon thy isle, endearingly, then speak to me, and lie with me awhile.   Ron Purtlebaugh                       APRIL TWENTY FOUR, 2001 *WHEN TWO ARE ONE*   I thought I saw it move last night  start to shine a brighter bright  one in front and either side,  Angels there to move your light. I think for all the world to see just how much you mean to me and bring your star right over here beside the one that's over me. Tomorrow night, if in God's will,  our stars shall bright out shine the sun, as side by side our love be sealed when both our stars shall shine as one.   Ronnie                    TURTLEDOVE SUNRISE   ONE TIME MORE THESE WEARY EYES WILL SIT ALONE UPON GOD'S SHORE TO WATCH THE MORNING BREAK ANEW FOR  AFTER THIS I'LL BE WITH YOU TO GATHER IN THE BLESSED SUNRISE THIS TIME ALONE, I'LL THANK THE LORD PERHAPS HE HAD TO READY ME FOR  JOY WHEREIN MY FUTURE LIES SHARING ALL THE REST WITH YOU AS GONE THE GULLS I DAILY SEE THE PELICANS, THEIR SAME OLD VIEW TODAY, THE LORD, TO SHOW HIS LOVE SURELY MEANT FOR ME AND YOU HE SENT A PAIR OF TURTLEDOVES.   RONNIE                 ANELISA'S SMILE   IN THE EVENING OF MY WEARINESS WHEN DAYS ARE DARK, AND TIMES ARE HARD THERE COMES A TIME, THAT MORNING SMILES I RELISH AS THE WARMING SUN THE BREEZES OF YOUR HAPPINESS AS  MORNING SMILES UPON MY SKIN YOUR LAUGHING EYES, THEY LOOK AT ME, YOUR ARMS AROUND ME PULL ME CLOSE AND HOLD ME THERE WITHIN YOURSELF  CARESS ME SOFTLY, TENDERLY YOU TAKE UPON THE STRIFES OF LIFE TO SHARE THE BURDENS, PILING HIGH COOL ME WITH YOUR MIDNIGHT AIR AND WASH ME IN YOUR DEWY HAIR AS YOUR MORNING SMILES ON ME  MY PROBLEMS SEEM TO DISAPPEAR.    RONNIE            FIXED ON YOU, FIXED ON ME     HAD IT BEEN ENOUGH TO KNOW, THAT LESS WAS MORE THAN WHAT I KNEW, AND USING, NOT ABUSING IT, WAS COUNTED ON AND SURELY TRUE, NOT SO MUCH, IN HOPES OR DREAMS, BUT MORE OR LESS REALITY WITH ALL IT'S NEEDS, THAT ONE BELIEVES, NOT THE STYMIED GRIMY DREAMS OF HOPED FOR THINGS, AND THINGS UNPLANNED, AND MEANER SCHEMES, THE ONE'S, IF LET TO GROW AND GREEN, WILL RAMPANTLY, IN PASSION BLOOM, JUST BECAUSE THEY'RE WATERED WELL, AND TENDED TO, REGARDLESS OF THE SEASON OR THE REASON THEY'VE BEEN GIVEN CHANCE, TO ROOT AND FEED AND THEREBY BLOSSOM, GIVING SEED, ALBEIT HYBRID, LACKING NEED. A CIRCUMSTANCE THAT I DEPLORE, LIVING JUST FOR LIVING'S SAKE,   HOW UNIMPORTANT QUANTITY, WHEN IT COMES TO YOU AND ME   BUT NOW I COUNT IT ALL THE MORE, NO, MORE THAN THAT, COUNT IT AS A PART OF ME. A PART TO NURTURE LOVINGLY AND LEADING ME BELIEVING IN THE DEEPEST PART, THAT WHAT I SEE, IS TRULY YOU, THE KIND THAT SAYS, THOUGH WE  BE TWO, YET WE ARE ONE, NO MORE JUST A SIMPLE COUPLE, TWO WHO SHARING LIFE ALONE, WHEN WHAT I SEEK IS, TWO THAT SHARE A TIME AND SPACE, WHERE......... WHEN AND WHY BECOME A PLACE, AND, MY EYES, THOUGH THEY SIT IN ME, LOOKING OUT, WHILE LOOKING OUT, FOR THE ONE I KNOW AS WE,  ALL THE TIME, THEY'RE STILL BEHIND YOUR PRETTY FACE, AND STARING OUT, THEY'RE FIXED ON YOU, YOU'RE FIXED ON ME......   RON PURTLEBAUGH           THE WELLSPRING   THIS LINK OF LOVE AND SHARING FROM CREATION, A THING OF BEAUTY FOR ALL MANKIND INDEED, THE STRONGER OF THE PAIR,  SURELY ONE MOST FAIR, WAS BLESSED THE HEIR OF SUSTENANCE FOR SEED.  TENDER SOFT FOR BABY'S LIPS, A PILLOW FOR THE CHEEK, SO VERSATILE AND CHANGING, DAY TO DAY,  IT STRETCHES AND IT  FOLDS,  THE LOVE MILK WHICH IT HOLDS, KEPT WARM AND SAFE FOR BABY, NIGHT AND DAY. BABY'S LIPS ON MAMA'S BREAST, A PERFECT WAY, ON CRYING OUT, THIS MILK SHALL COME OR STAY, FLOWS AT BABE'S BEHEST,  THIS NIPPLE NUDGING QUEST, WITH PERFECTION, QUALITY, CREATION MADE. AS WE ELEVATE HER BREAST TO REGAL ADORNMENT, AN OFT' DEEMED JUMP OFF POINT IN SEX FOREPLAY, MAY FIRST WE NEVER FORGET, THIS BREAST, THIS TEAT, THIS TIT, SUSTAINED AND GAVE US LIFE SO THAT WE MAY.   RON PURTLEBAUGH           Words   I like my words soft as a candle flame flicker that rises to breathe, first stronger then weaker diving aside as they whirl and they spin,  lifting to new heights as they swirl themselves in. I like my words close and weaving as wicker strong and supportive, as brother lifting brother, well varied and sundry, fulfilling their meaning then broken...their constraints...sent fleetingly fleeing then born...perhaps anew word...anew look...anew view... does it work, I try it on, yesterday, I said I love you, today, I lay me down, I lay me down, for only you.   Ron Purtlebaugh.         HOME, SWEET HOME   THE AWE INSPIRING LIST, OF LOVELY WONDROUS GIFTS GOD MADE US BENEFACTORS AT CREATION CHIEF OF THESE INDEED WHERE MAN DOES PUT HIS SEED A BEAUTEOUS WORK OF ART FOR PROPAGATION THIS PIECE THIS MASTERPIECE TO MANKIND BECKONS TO OFFER UP ITSELF TO MULTIPLY AS ONE GROWS OLD, A NEW BEGINS IT TURNS, AND TURNS, THE CIRCLE SPINS AND WHAT GROWS OLD IS NEW AGAIN WHAT LOVE ENLISTS THEN TURNS TO SPLIT SO LIKE THE MOON, FOUR QUARTERS SLIP AT ONCE SO FULL THE EBB AND WANE AND NEW, THIS ROOM, THIS WOMB RENEWS ANEW ANOTHER TRIP SUCH A THING OF BEAUTY ON THE OUTSIDE THE INSIDE OF THIS PLACE I USED TO HIDE AND WIDE IT SPREAD TO LET ME OUT BUT WORTHY OF THIS TIME, I'VE TRIED JUST TO GET BACK HOME BACK TO THE INSIDE   RON PURTLEBAUGH                EVE   THE FUZZ UPON THE DAINTY LEAVES AS VIOLETS IN DOWNY SHEATHES DROOPING IN THEIR LOVELINESS UNTO THEM I DO SOFTLY CLEAVE THE POLLEN IS AS SWEET LIKE WINE UPON THE JUICES I HAVE DINED TO QUENCH MY NATURAL THIRSTINESS TAKING PRIDE, THAT FLOWER'S MINE. AS LIGHTLY I DO TOUCH MY LIPS AGAINST THE FINERY OF THE TIPS AND LANGUISH IN THE ESSENCE THERE THE SYRUP DOWN MY THROAT DOES DRIP. AND WITH THE SEED THAT GROWS IN LIGHT SO PERFECT IN THE MORTAL SIGHT AS GOD ENDOWED WITH BEAUTY THERE THE FURRY DOWN OF WOMBS DELIGHT.   RON PURTLEBAUGH             SOUNDS LIKE MONDAY NIGHT, EARLY TUESDAY    BEDROOM STARS EXPLODE AND SHATTER, SOFT WORDS COMING TO MY EAR, IN EXHAUSTING BREATH, NEAR WHISPERED 'BOVE THE CLATTER AND THE MUSIC POUNDING, SPONDEE, AND RESOUNDING WITH THE BEAT WITHIN MY HEART IT SYNCHRONIZES IN MY EAR GENTLY SO AND BARELY UTTERED THESE THE SOFT WORDS THAT I HEAR THROUGH THE CLUTTERED SOUND AROUND ME SONIC BOUND, EACH SOUND APPEARS IT'S AMPLITUDE, DEFIES, DENIES ME, IF IT COULD, THE WORDS I HEAR THESE TONAL PHONICS, PLEADING, ASKING, STIMULUS THAT BEGS ME NEAR  LEANING CLOSE  MY LIPS ENCOMPASS HEARKEN TO IT'S INTONATION PLACING THEM MOST SWEETLY, GENTLY, ON HER HEAD, ABOVE HER EAR THE AUDITORY CHAINS UNBOUNDING SLIP THEIR SONORANCE UNSOUNDING AS THE SILENT NOISE ASTOUNDS ME I PERCEIVE NOW, LOUD AND CLEAR MISTAKING NOT WHAT SHE IS SAYING, WHISPERING, "I LOVE YOU, DEAR."   RON PURTLEBAUGH         BACK AGAIN   THOUGH FROM THE WOMB I HAPPENED BY THIS WORLD, WITH ALL ITS FEARS AND FRETS, I FEEL SECURE IN BEDROOM SKIES AND KNOW THAT I HAVE PAID MY DEBT.   I THINK IT'S NICE TO ENTER BACK, TO WHERE ONE'S FROM JUST SECONDS HENCE, AND GROOVE ALONG THE PUBES PATH, WHERE UNDER GROWTH IS QUIET, DENSE. THE ESSENCE OF WHAT GOD ENDOWED, A SCENT SO RICH AS SWEET PERFUME, IN FALLOW FIELDS OF EARTH UNPLOWED, TO BURY FEARS IN HIDDEN ROOMS.   IN GRASPING REACH, THE VERY SWEETS OF LIFE, AND IT'S A NICER PART, CUDDLED TIGHT IN WARM RETREAT, BACK TO THE WOMB, WHERE I DID START.    RON PURTLEBAUGH           WHO CAN KNOW   WHO CAN KNOW THE BEAUTIES OF A SNOWFLAKE,  THE MAJESTY FROM WHENCE IT CAME, THE CLOUD. WHO CAN KNOW THE MYSTERIES OF A WOMAN, AS BILLOWS LIKE THE CLOUD, THE PETALS SHROUD. SO INTRICATE AND DELICATE, LIKE THE SNOWFLAKE, DESIRES, ENSHRINED FIRES DO ABOUND. THE GENTLE FOLDS, SO WARMLY THAT DO BECKON, AT ONCE UNFOLDS AND HOLDS AND TWO ARE ONE.  PASSIONS GRIP, INVITING SLIPS, PULLS THEN HUGS AGAIN, AGAIN, AND GONE. THIS SQUEEZE, RELEASE, PULSATING PULSE, FOR TWO ARE ONE, THEIR UNIVERSE. INSIDE, AROUND, THEIR WORLD WITHIN, THIS SHIVER, QUIVER, GIGGLE OF JOY, I LOVE YOU, SPEAKS A GIRL AND BOY.     RON PURTLEBAUGH           SIDEWALKS   CRACK,CRACK, ANOTHER CRACK, NEVER BROKE MY MOTHER'S BACK. PET THE CRACK, KISS THE CRACK, FEEL THE SHARP RESOUNDING SMACK, THAT LACKED. THOUGH ON IT I HAD NEVER STEPPED, THE CHERRY THAT SHE LOST NOT KEPT, SHE WEPT, AND THEN WE SLEPT. CRACK, CRACK, ANOTHER CRACK, NEVER BROKE MY MOTHER'S BACK.   RON PURTLEBAUGH                 IF THIS THE COST WRITTEN FOR AND DEDICATED TO MATCH GIRL    Match girl, Match girl, O' Sister of my soul, unknown beloved friend, 'tis true our eyes have never met, 'tis true our lips have never touched, i've gathered you about me still.   For down this dusty road of life our hearts and souls have walked as one, holding up and helping each, hand in hand, cheek to cheek, if only for a little while, and desert times, as must needs come, for that it seems the way life is, this poet stumbles, parched from heat and you, my friend, for sustenance your hand extends, i grasp to reach, your fingertips, outstretching, meet, and i lick off your salty sweat, if only for, that i might live, to see the day if it may come to be there when to help my friend, parched, she stumbles from the heat and falter then, but for the drink of tears i shed and to her send.   Now you bid me sweet good-byes, if be it so, and I pray not, but comes to pass, by chance alone, mere happenstance, our crossing paths, i need to, want to, ask you why?   Must it be so? Do the words we've come to share steal the time from someone near? One you love that loves you too, and hold so dear, we must part here?   If this the cost that i must pay to call you dear beloved friend, to still my words, apart, away, forever on, my lifetime or a single day, i'll do for you, Match girl, friend, but forbid me not to cry, the first time ever God did cry, like the time in words we've shared, it too was forty days, to cleanse the earth of hateful men, a purpose that my tears shall lack, for who can know the tears of God?  or mankind's pain from seeds He's sown?   Dear Match girl, yes, if this the cost. i'll cry alone for loss of you, what little part i've known.   May Orion, pray, slip his belt and place it down upon the ground, as the stars of a thousand universes bid be first to gather 'round, that you shall walk in God's own light in brightest days, or darkest nights.    Dear Match girl,  I've said it once, I want to say it again. Poetry to me is never a singular affair, I gain the love for it and from it when I write, but the real beauty in it is as the rose, when it blooms, when it is opened, when it is spoken, when it is read, that other's might see the wonderful thing then, that I see now. My poetry, if it be so called, is never worked on, labored over, or contrived. It is a gift, born of God, inspired in my mind, grown in my heart, watered with my tears, released by my fingers and given to those as I feel led, those who speak my name kindly, those I love, a gift given, I accepted, and in that same spirit, I give away. And this, that you might know it's worth,  from whence it came, I give to you.   ron purtlebaugh         CRUCIFY ME WITH YOUR LOVE   AS I LIVE FOR YOU MY LOVE, MIGHT I DIE AS WELL, PUSH TO ME YOUR WARM SWEET SELF, WITH YOUR TENDER LOVING NAILS HAMMER ME, BOTH HANDS AND FEET CRUCIFY ME, TO YOUR SWEET APPEALING MOVES, IMPLODE IN FULL UNBOUNDED LOVE, TO ME, TO ME, HARDER SHOVE, LET ME DIE WITHIN YOUR TROVE, IN YOUR COVE OF GENTLE LOVE, HAMMER, POUNDING, HOLD ME CLOSE, TOGETHER NOW, COME WITH ME, NOW, TO MY PLACE, UPON MY FACE, A FALLING TEAR, I'D DIE FOR YOU A THOUSAND TIMES JUST TO KNOW, YOU LOVE ME DEAR.   RONNIE         The World, Is It Our's?   It shouldn't be so complicated to let a thing go free when what you held was never yours, and knew could never be. Ownership, a funny thing, that puts a strain on everything and with the strain, disdain and pain, a staining rain upon the brain  that changes both, from what they were or what they should have been.... free and unencumbered, to be pleased and more importantly to find the joy of living where you live to only please. Are you mine?  I think you are, because you give yourself to me. Am I yours?  I think I am, because I give myself to thee. The world, is it ours?  I think it is, because you see if you love a thing enough, you let a thing go free, and if a thing loves you enough, it will return to be. That is why the world is ours, and so shall ever be. because, you see, I'm here with you, and you are here with me.   Ron Purtlebaugh          Still Says It Well Athinnish black and starry night like lovers love, when just a light as in a beam, can well be seen a hundred miles or more it seems and 'thout a wind upon your skin a single starlight beam above is lightly felt and one can tell, this night was made for love. My lover's touch is felt as much, it seems your grazing fingertips are kissing lips and tiny hugs and I can hear your breathing so, the rise and fall of nestled breast, we seem as one, within ourself, a part of something larger than, but closer to, I've never known. This the stuff of "close to thee", this the time you're part of me, this the time when your are mine, more than you shall ever see. If I could, but  find a word, a line or rhyme this story tell, when night time such as this arrives, when weary day has darkness fell, when our love seems so alive, something new, original, still, I love you, says it well.   Ron Purtlebaugh       LOVE AND LUST   CLEAR AND MOST ASSUREDLY  TWO DESIRES, IF THEY'RE TO BE BOTH ARISE FROM INNER NEED ONE FOR US,,,,, ONE FOR ME   BORN OF TRUST AND HONESTY REQUIRING TWO, (MORE YOU THAN ME) A TINY SEED BECOMES A TREE  STUFF OF LOVE, WE ALL MUST NEED    CHILD OF CANDOUR, IMMEDIACY NEEDS BUT ONE TO LIVE AND BREATHE LIVES A LIFE, A WAR TORN WEED THAT'S THE STUFF OF LUST, INDEED   PERPLEXITIES SEEM SATISFIED CONSIDERING, I'VE REALIZED LACKING LOVE,, I TEND TO CRY LACKING LUST, IT'S LUST THAT DIES   LUST, I'VE FOUND, REQUIRES NO YOU A LONELY OCCUPATION WHO IF NURTURED NOT DRIES LIKE DEW    THINK YOU NOT, LOVE GROWS ON ROCK IT DISSIPATES AS QUICKLY TOO IF YOU PLANT IT, ME, ME, ME,  NOT FERTILIZED BY YOU.   RON PURTLEBAUGH             WAITING ON THE SHORE   The pounding of the crashing tide, upon the ocean floor, I raised my eyes to look away, I watched an old gull soar. Wonder where he's going to, who that he might see?  As I gazed my heart took wings, horizon bound, and seemingly, he slowed for me as if to ask, won't you come and fly with me, for as I, you seek your love, it's in your eyes for all to see, and yours like mine, she waits for you on yonder shore. "I am amazed to hear you speak, You said, like me? Why say you, Sir." Because I saw her name so plain,  'Anelisa,'  from a star! Upon the shore, I watched him soar, and knew for sure, if nothing else, my waiting Love was from my Lord.   Ronnie                 WISH I COULD REMEMBER   IT MUST HAVE BEEN A WONDROUS THING THE INSIDE, LOOKING OUT ALL SAFE AND WARM AND CUDDLED UP WHEN EVERYTHING YOU REACHED TO TOUCH WAS SOFT AND SNUGGLEY, MADE TO FIT, THE LIGHT YOU SENSED WAS NEAR,  FROM BELOW, A TINY SLIT, WITH COLORS OF THE SOFTEST  PINKS VIOLETS,  BURGUNDIES, RED WITH HEAT.  MUFFLED SOUNDS, EXQUISITE TASTE,  A WARM SOFT  WONDERFUL  PLACE AND TURN TO PEEK, IF YOU  COULD OUTSIDE THE PORTAL OF LIFE, THE SOFTEST SKIN THAT'S KNOWN TO MAN, TANGLED HAIR SO SILKY FINE THE ONLY KIND,  FAR AS I KNOW,  MORTAL MAN PUTS IN HIS MOUTH, AS MANY TIMES,  MUCH AS HE CAN, AND LIKES TO KEEP  IT THERE.  YOU NEVER  KNOW, THIS COULD CHANGE  BEING THE SYSTEMATIC PERSON I AM KEEPING ABREAST ( SO TO SPEAK ) THE SCIENCES OF MAN I TRY TO CHECK BACK, OFTEN AS I CAN. [ ANYONE KNOWS OF ANOTHER LIKE THAT, LET ME KNOW, WE'LL MARKET IT SOMEWHERE] AND THOUGH I DON'T REMEMBER IT WELL, I'D LIKE TO LEAVE YOU, KNOWING MY WISH, I JUST HOPE  WHEN THEYSAW MY HEAD I WAS KISSING ALL AROUND, THE WHOLE WAY OUT.   RON PURTLEBAUGH            JUST ONE   A BILLION THINGS CAN CHANGE  MY MIND TAKES ONE TO MAKE IT STAY A MILLION THINGS CAN MAKE WORK HARD TAKES ONE TO MAKE IT PLAY A THOUSAND PEOPLE MAKE ME FROWN BUT ONE CAN MAKE ME SMILE A HUNDRED PEOPLE TURN FOR ME JUST ONE WILL GO THE MILE TEN AT LEAST, MIGHT WALK MY PATH BUT ONE WILL WALK ME HOME FIVE OR SIX  MIGHT TAKE THE BLAME BUT ONE WILL TAKE MY NAME TWO OR THREE MIGHT STAY THE STRIFE ONLY ONE WILL STAY MY LIFE WHEN WORK IS HARD, AND NEED TO PLAY, OR FROWNING, NEED TO SMILE OR FIND I NEED SOME HELP ALONG, TO GO THE OTHER MILE, OR WANTING NOT TO BE ALONE, TURN MY HOUSE INTO A HOME, SHARE THE BLAME, OR SPARE THE STRIFE, TAKE MY NAME AND BE MY WIFE THERE'S ONLY ONE, DOES THIS FOR ME THE ONE I CALL MY SWEET KALI.   RON PURTLEBAUGH       MOM FIRST OF ALL   THANK YOU FOR MY BROTHERS MOM WHAT  JOY YOU MUST HAVE GAINED I KNOW FROM EVERY RAINBOW POT THERE MUST HAVE COME SOME PAIN FOR EVERY FAILURE WE ENDURED YOU TOOK A LITTLE BLAME FOR EVERY TIME WE FELL BEHIND YOU MUST HAVE FELT THE SAME WITH THE GOOD TIMES CAME THE BAD SOME HAPPY TIMES THAT BROUGHT THE SAD BUT THROUGH IT ALL YOU STILL ARE YOU AND KNOWING THAT YOU LOVED US ALL AS YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS DO, I WANT TO TAKE ONE SPECIAL TIME, TO TELL YOU, MOM, THAT I LOVE YOU.   RONNIE           These The One's   were it not for those I chose and those who've chosen me as well those who gave a hand up close and closed a hand on mine exposed those who saw when I could not so trusted blindly to their sight trusting in their faithfulness and faithful to their trust that came those who pulled me as I lifted lifting as I pulled the same  walked for me when I could crawl when getting there had meant the all or falling, caught them in the air and when I fell, they broke my fall I'd feel apart and lost, alone,  for these the one's makes my house, home.   Ron Purtlebaugh        The Night Jumpin' Jack Flash Met Witchy Woman   Never in the life of man, was honed the knife to cut the black that reigned that night one as thick, as in a cave and underground the eyes of man could not behold a finger, save a candle 'round and closely held, so thick, they say, no bird took wing, the blinded owl had stayed his limb, the bats in barns, for fear to die, hung their eaves till dawning's light  with folks in bed 'til morning's light.   On a street and dimly lit a blanket lay, a deathly fog that reeked decay and from the cold and wet cement, seeping strains of city's songs, a windblown cup that scraped along, a lonely cricket stayed too long, a forlorn whistle, wind blown corners eerie sound  sent the homeless ragged people seeking refuge, dumpster bound,  darker doors and underground.   The only sound, dactyl click, click, c l i c k, c l i c k. click, c l i c k, c l i c k, stiletto heels, in time, in step, save a shuffle coming, creeping, quietly down  streets discreetly, careful not to wake the sleeping, startles burglars as they're creeping, peeping toms who peeped too long, out-of-workers 'round their drums slowly blazing, turning burning warming hands and humming songs, quietly, he tread along..    'Neath the last unburning lamp at end of street, so cold and damp, clicking crickets stopped their chirping, ticking clocks forgot to strike, still and damp the  curbs were hidden, swallowed up by dark of night.. Searching eyes spanned o'er the ether cracked and broken, icy dark fingers touching, hands soft clutching  darkness broke, in thunderclap slapping tremors, heaving embers like the lightning  cleaves the oak, the ash, the thorn, the sky was torn, the heavens rent, the dissipating clouds were spent, devoured themselves and Hell itself turned icy cold.   Soil that holds the mountaintops and hangs with snow was melted down round the coasts the ocean boiled and toiled to foil the hold of sand, while land that holds the hotted springs turned burning cold and froze again,  and as they clung, her silver spoon quick slipped her tongue and met with his, a passioned kiss and never had the city known a night time such as this.   Her raven hair about their lips, as lightning struck they fell to ground, and all around,  sounds shattering, the pavement swelled and opened up homing pigeons lost their roof, the ozone layer closed it's hole, the glaciers and the melting poles made the sea to overflow, turned the tide, the mountains moved, the sunrise came in western skies and black of night, a reddish glow.   And though it's known a fact and true it's whispered still, in fear if spoke, if it were to happen twice, who could know, the earth might fall beneath the clash as it nearly did the night that Witchy Woman's ruby lips,  sparks that flew her fingertips, met the likes of Jumpin' Jack Flash whose parentage was most insane, conceived in fire and wind and rain a child of love rose from ash, born of crossfire hurricane.   Ron Purtlebaugh         So, You're Gonna' Be A Grandma, Now!   Soon thrice you'll walk these roads of life, the once you lived for you to learn, candles burn, highways kill, only once you may be young, "enjoy it while you can," they said, your head, your life you wanted yours, and took it while you could.   Then brought a child into this world, that you might live it twice, (this time you learned, the flame that burns, that once was you, could be unused, well used, abused, the choice was yours, left up to you, feeling old at twenty-two, went so fast, and then it's passed,) you saw through baby's eyes again.   Suddenly, as from above, the word the same, the other meanings lost their worth, you found a brand new thing called love, you knew before, but not this way, seeming somehow purer now,  part of you more than before, truly love... cleaner, leaner, blood of blood, without the baggage of another, nothing closer on this earth, than a child and a Mother. so it's said, " a son's a son, 'til he takes a wife, your daughter's, your daughter all your life."   And now you're going to find it's true, the best laid schemes, your plans are past, she lived your dreams, the die is cast, with hope of hopes, she looks like you, (unspoken...true) for you and she, pray only for a healthy child, your daughter's daughter, well and free, and this one makes it number three.   You're down the road on brand new feet, places to go, people to meet, new booties to buy, new sweaters to knit, I think it's grand, that love so sweet, can be relived and makes us see  life with it's recurring love drops and spreads from up above and gives us kids, and kids of kids, and this one's yours, and kids are neat.   Ron Purtlebaugh       You Give The Time It Takes To Say   Oftentimes, I find your look as if there's something that you missed, on your face the slightest trace  hidden words you meant to say.   Then impromptu, you're telling me, "I don't recall" or "I'm afraid  it slipped my mind, so just in case, I'm not sure I've told you yet, 'do you know that I love you,' still, nothing like tomorrow will, but more, much more, than yesterday?"   And all the while, you catch me cold, expectantly, I'm waiting for  the little chore you need me do, some hum-drum thing, some snip of life, something like the neighbors wife, might stop and ask, as he walks past.   Then I awake and realize, it's you, the one I'm looking at, it's you, the one that said it last, this morning, twice since yesterday, the one that takes the time to give, to give the time it takes to say, I love you more, each passing day.   Ron Purtlebaugh     DAUGHTER    MY DAUGHTER'S FINGERPRINTS, I FOUND THEM TODAY IN A MOST UNUSUAL PLACE, PERHAPS NOT TAKING ENOUGH TIME TO LISTEN, OR LISTENING, I STILL DIDN'T HEAR, OR MAYBE I FIGURED HER TROUBLES WERE HERS AND FEARED I WOULD BE IN THE WAY. OR THOUGHT WHEN I HEARD EVERY WORD SHE HAD SAID,  SHE WAS CRYING FOR SOMEONE TO HEAR WHATEVER IT WAS, I WAS SAD THEY APPEARED AS THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY, BLURRY THROUGH TEARS, REGRETTING THE LOST WASTED YEARS, WISHING ON WISHING TO HAVE A NEW START.  I FOUND THEM, RIGHT WHERE THEY LAY. HER YOUNG LIFE IMPRINTED FROM TINY SMALL HANDS CLUTCHING THE STRINGS OF MY HEART. ON CLOSE EXAMINATION, I FOUND A LARGE CRACK, HER PRINTS ON THE FRONT AND THE BACK  MY TEARS THAT HAD FALLEN, SHE WAS USING AS GLUE, PUTTING BACK PIECES,  BROKEN FOR YOU.     RON PURTLEBAUGH     AMEN   YOU KNOW, THE THING I FEARED THE MOST THE PROMISE OF OUR LORD AND HOST WHEN HARDNESS OF THE HEART SET IN HOW DIFFICULT IT WAS TO BE TO MAKE IT TENDER ONCE AGAIN IT SCARED ME SO AND BROUGHT THE TEARS TO REALIZE AND KNOW THE FEARS  WHAT I THOUGHT COULD NEVER BE HAD BECOME SO REAL IN ME THEN MY LORD, HE TOOK MY TEARS  WITH THEM WASHED AWAY MY FEARS  WITH THEM BAPTIZED ME AGAIN AND TENDERNESS REPLACED WITHIN. NOW EVERY SAD WORD BRINGS A TEAR  HAPPY WORDS THEY DO THE SAME NEVER WILL MY HEART BE HARD i PROMISE THIS, IN JESUS NAME. AMEN. ron purtlebaugh          COMPARE, MY LOVE   MY LOVE FOR YOU, DEAR HEART, COMPARE, THE MOON ABOVE OCTOBER'S ROOM WHEN EARLY FALL IS IN THE AIR AND HEATED GLAZE OF SUMMER SKIES HAS BID GOOD-BYE TO CLEARER NIGHTS AND BRIGHT THE STARS AS BREEZES SIGH, FOR ME, FOR YOU, AS ROUND AND WHITE THE HARVEST MOON, SO LIKE MY HEART THAT SHINES FOR YOU AND LIGHTS MY LIFE AS YOU FOR ME, AND SHINING THROUGH THE BARREN LIMBS OF AUTUMN TREES. COME LIE WITH ME IN FALLEN LEAVES BENEATH THE FREE AND FALLING LIGHT TONIGHT, MY LOVE, IN LIGHT OF MOON. COME, MY LOVE, COME AND COMPARE.   RON PURTLEBAUGH       To Mama Rita In Italy   Though the miles be far between, this, to know how much you mean to each of us and wish somehow you were here with us and now.   Would that I could, to make them go all the miles to disappear, for I long to see the trace, the happiness within your face, the lines, the smiles I daily see in your daughter, here with me, the limb and leaf, how beautiful, must surely come, a lovely tree.   These words, Mama, I send to you, my prayers and blessings be upon a treasure, sure, unto this world, that you shall know, I love you too.   Your Son, Ronnie     LICENSE BRANCH WOMAN   Her wintry breath attested to her frosty spirit's will, the way she walked so coldly past, always with a staring glance said, keep your paces far and wide, and sliding by, her pantyhose, would gnash with teeth, the very sound, though muffled some, a zippers laugh when come undone.    If you stared to catch her there, her sidelong glance would freeze you cold and  one emboldened ventured, Hi, would entertain a look so cold, you'd step aside, and hoping for the errant words that slipped your lips might drip to naught, evaporate, or curl to tiny nothing bits, to disappear and die.   To chance a meet on errands run would thin the blood and leaving one, wondering, to question why, one who hated mankind so, would bother coming out their door,  take the time to join the world, why trouble even coming by.   As I turn my head aside this morningtime on pillows soft, her flowing hair, her underwear, atop the marble bedroom stand  by her side, hand in mine, I wonder now if it was I,  saw a coldness wasn't there, thinking unattainable, applying trappings not existing, all the while hoping, wishing, sometime, somehow, she were mine.   And now I walk her down the street, I hear the sighs that once was I,  her swishing stockinged thighs in time,  a sweet sweet sound, her undulation sets aside the lookers-on, her head held high, I know they love to hate her step, mesmerizing, side to side, but all the time, secretly, just as me, another time, wishing they were I.   Ron Purtlebaugh     LACEGIRL   TOUCH ME NOT WITH LIPS OF STEEL, HARD AND COLD, BUT WORDS THAT FEEL, NOR SLIP INTO MY EARS THE SOUNDS THAT LIE WITHIN FROM DAYS OF OLD, ANOTHER'S SONG YOU KNEW BEFORE. FOR UNTO YOU I COME ANEW, SO SING TO ME , AS SONGBIRDS DO,  EACH NEW DAY A DIFFERENT SONG,  WORDS OF LOVE UNSPOKEN 'TIL, THIS VERY DAY, PLEASE PART YOUR LACEY LIPS AND SAY TENDER WORDS THAT BEG ME COME,. TO YOU, WITH YOU, INTO YOU, FOR YOU, ONLY, EVER YOU, SWEET WORDS THAT THE BEES DO ENVY, WORDS TO WET THESE DRY PARCHED LIPS , SPRINKLED WORDS AS SOFT AS  DEW. PLANT THEM IN THIS HEART OF MINE, I'LL NURTURE THEM AND WHEN THEY BLOOM,  TEN FOLD MY LOVE RETURNED TO YOU, A SWEET BOUQUET, SOFT PETALS SPREAD A GENTLE PLACE TO LAY YOUR HEAD THAT YOU MIGHT TAKE ME UNTO YOU,  A PLACE I'LL NEVER WORTHY OF, AND KNOWING I SHALL NEVER BE, YOUR GIVING SOFT UNSELFISH LOVE..   RON PURTLEBAUGH     And He Did Anelisa's Star   A time it was, 'fore daybreak came, I've heard it called the darkest hour, sleepless, at the break of dawn,  the zenith of the northern sky, from my lawn a meteor shower     Even that stole not my gaze from the wondrous single light, a winking twinkling bright white star that played below Orion's belt and shone above your house this night.     See, me and God were best of friends, I asked Him would he be so kind, to find a star to lend to me to hang above you every night, a help for you in darkest times and show to me, where lies my friend. And He did.   Ron Purtlebaugh       Come to me   Come to me now, my love, sweet love, come whisper softly in my ear, come tell me of a thousand nights, come tell me of the nights that be that passed without you near to me of how they tore and strained your heart the way they rained and stormed on me come tell me of the wasted day that passed you by while missing me come tell me of the hurt inside the trials, morn 'til eventide the parched dry lips, the missing kiss come fill me love, with what we missed come my love, my love sweet love, come give your love, sweet love a kiss.   Ron Purtlebaugh         Please Talk To Me A Moment   Come talk with me a moment, will you delve into my mind, Not a part as others do, but mine a part of you. Open your subconscious thoughts, the deepest part and true, Gently place them into me, and mine inside of you.. The tapestry that flows within, a boundless river stream,. That screams for you, in words and dreams and seems to me your pen lies still as one who wants to share, Soul embraces, seperate places, Take me into there. Light my heart with words of heat, I'll take your breath away And crucify you soft to me with words, my only way. Until the day we never meet, our hearts iambic beat, Become spondee, with tender rhymes, 'cross this ethernet of time, our keyboards, you and me.   Ron Purtlebaugh       Darci's Star   May your Fridays of this life Be the Mondays of your years, May the clouds of heaven break To wash away your tears, May the rainbows o'er your head The colors for your skies, The lightning flash in dark of night The fire in your eyes, May Aquila and Orion kneel to light your every path, And Venus, Bright and Morning Star To hold you in the dark, Always Darci, shine on you, To show me where you are.   Ron Purtlebaugh   Wanted: Pen-Pal   Forward Foot! To errantry, I weary this disguise, Seek me out young Eris roof, prevarications,  tiny lies. Adventure bound, my libidotic pen to sound and find for me a wayward child, a child in terms most loosely used, something more like forty nine. Or fifty nine or thirty nine, important, more, one who has a pen like mine, to swap sweet words of love and rhyme, to take me 'round or soar the clouds or lie to me, "I'll visit with the springtime come" but till such time, make love to me, folding phrases with your heart tucked tight inside, whisper words of love to me gently sent, o'er space and time.   Ron Purtlebaugh       One Tiny Smile   Caught, in clouds of happiness, a million billion smiles, a single one looks out to ask, "Can I be worth the while?" "Can one tiny upturned lip, exact a true impact, can I be of usefulness, make a place, a difference, a need does seem to lack?" "Yes, You Can! The heart cries back, how little do you know, the planting of one tiny smile, it's love, that starts to grow." "If that's so true," the smile replies, "then, why this teeming crowd, why must these all stand around, with nothing to bestow?" "Because, a smile," the heart responds, "is much the same, a rose, until it blooms and gives itself, it has no place to go."   Ron Purtlebaugh     Kali's Harp A Song Of Love   The memory has stayed the years from that winter, cold and clear, a time it was, one lonely rose that sat alone in solitaire, fore my window, frozen cold  peering through, and waiting for, to catch the strain one single note to split the air, as it did each early morn,  sparkling like a shattered glass, often fixing my first cup, or just awoken, padding down the quiet stairs, would split the air, through the arms of winter's hold, the silence broken, splintering December's grasp. Seemed the stillness, gasping for one clear note, angelic sound, just as I, so we'd know she's still around. Through the swirls of frosty glass, and in the rose, I saw her face, sitting close astride her harp, through her cottage window lights. Warming by her fireplace, weaving fingers to the strings, and ring the notes, so light and clear, looking, as she did to each softly singing strains of lace. As I often saw her there, always seemed to go that way on my walks, beside her place, though might I've gone a hundred ways. To my delight, rarely did she fail me there, my expectation, anxious waiting, feet were always faster there, slower then, my fingers playing long the rail, her old board fence, glimpsing, as I walked along in hopes to see her pretty face. My Kali's harp, oh what a sound and now it's been some long years since, sitting, staring past my rose, I see a trace, her loveliness, in the petals, cold and froze. And though it's just a memory now, my rose still grows, and still's the cold December air, and still's the time, I'm waiting for to hear the sound, one clear sweet note, just to know, as did I then, my Kali sits her harp still there.   Ron Purtlebaugh        THE STARS SHOULD CELEBRATE   THEY'RE MULTITUDES OF WORLDS THAT I MIGHT CONQUER AS MANY ASPIRATIONS SPEAK MY NAME  EVEN THOUGH MY NAME BE THERE IN FOOTNOTES WAITING ONLY ME TO STAND AND CLAIM ONE I SEEK, TO ME OUTSHINES THE HEAVENS,  PUTS THE LIGHT OF GOD'S OWN STARS TO SHAME ONE THAT SHINES SO BRIGHT, THE STARS SHOULD CELEBRATE, THE NIGHT MY LIPS DID TOUCH MY KALI'S  NAME. AND THOUGH MY LABORS, THIS FOR ME TO CONQUER, MAY TAKE A THOUSAND YEARS, OR THOUSAND DAYS, THE TASK I'VE SET BEFORE ME DRIPS LIKE HONEY I RELISH AND ADORE SHE SPEAKS MY NAME BUT WERE IT NOT TO BE, AND END TOMORROW I'D CRY A MILLION TEARS MY WHOLE LIFE THROUGH, STILL ALWAYS I WOULD SEE, THIS TIME SHE SPENT WITH ME, REKINDLED ME, MY HEART WAS SWEPT, MY LIPS REWET THOUGH ONLY BY HER WORDS, HER VOICE ALONE, EACH WORD SHE TOOK THE TIME TO SPEAK TO ME.   Ron Purtlebaugh        HOW LONG, MY LORD?   HOW LONG, MY LORD  SHALL I LIVE ON EACH WAKING DAY TO BREATHE, THESE FUMES FROM HELL WHERE TWICE I'VE GONE, SHALL NOT I BE REPRIEVED? MY HEART, DEAR LORD, SHALL'T NEVER KNOW THE LIGHT OF LOVE AGAIN? YOU KNOW THAT I'VE REPENTED LORD, HOW TERRIBLE MY SIN?  YET STILL THIS STONE ABOUT MY NECK, SO HARD, MY LORD, TO BEAR, WHY GIVE YOU ME, THE STRENGTH TO LIVE? MY LORD, TO PAY THE MORE? I WEARY SO OF WEARING IT.   SHALL YOU HAVE ME CARRY IT 'TIL DEATH HAS OPEN'D DOOR? WHEN WALKING IN, I FINALLY SEE, MY PUNISHMENT WAS NOT TO BE THE BURDEN AND THE PAIN, BUT THE WEIGHT OF TRAV'LING LIFE, MY LORD, AND NEVER EVER SEE THE LIVING PROOF, OF FAITH I HAD, YOU HAVE FORGIVEN ME. + EPILOGUE:  TEN MINUTES SPENT, SO WORDS AREN'T BENT, AND WRONGLY SPENT TO WHORE.  TO THOSE LIKE ME, TO THOSE IN NEED, TO THOSE WHO'LL TAKE THE TIME TO SEE, THE VALUE OF THIS THING CALLED FAITH FOR NOW AND EVERMORE.   RON PURTLEBAUGH      Lovers Lost In Love   The attitudes and latitudes of lovers lost in love, suddenly, a smile's a rose in tulip cheeks with eyes aglow, alow two pools of shining light that reminisces autumn nights. An Indian Summers warming cool, the bright and starry light of eve becoming one, where once was two in Harvest Moon's sweet jasmined glow.   The world's alive, the smell of earth near births anew a wondrous feel and sealing in their happiness, a feeling longed so very long. The radio pours out a song,  and searing to their minds alone  a tune that once they heard somewhere... a song that's now their very own, reties their heartstrings as a pair to cherish as the days grow long.   A soft hand's touch in tenderness a warm caress while snuggled, holds for two, in love, a quiet bliss that obviates necessities. Hugs to each their wants and needs denudeing all proclivities, lays bare, denies the worldly ties to those unloved, may never know for lovers have a life their own anew, a world that's all own.   Ron Purtlebaugh        Two Points of Light, Our Star For my Niece Cynthia and Ron Their Wedding Invitation   Two points of light above the world, we started as most others do, our tiny lights lost in the tide this swirl of life on which we ride. So little did we think or know our tiny beams of light would meet but tripping 'long the ocean sand they touched, and now we're  hand in hand. I realize when I see you I'm looking at a part of me, and once two lights that seemed afar shine brightly as a single star. May God, we pray, His wisdom deep, keep you always here with me, that once two beams lost in the night, forever shine as one bright light.   Ron Purtlebaugh     Rebecca's Star for Debbie Hunt and Becky     Forgive me Lord for hangin' 'round, I know we've talked three times today, but I remember what You said it's in Your Book and written down. You told me if I had a need, a true desire, to come to You, that you were always waiting there if I should knock, You'd answer me. There's this little girl I know, she lives with you, I know she's there, but way down here it seems so far, to loved one's Lord, she's known The Rose. I wonder Lord, perhaps tonight  you might hang a special star, one to shine the whole world o'er, known to all, Rebecca's Light. While I'm asking, Lord, one thing, this favor too, I'll ask of You, when Debbie's eyes light on this star, the first time, Lord, let angels sing, that she might know, My Lord, and true, Rebecca's love is really you.   Ron Purtlebaugh       Nobody Hears dedicated to and written for Adam   WAKE UP, DOWN THERE, LOGAN STREET! Can't anybody hear?  quiet screams, reverberating through my very ear, upon my heart to leave a stain, Can't anybody near him hear his screaming pleas so plain? When a person's lonely 'for he ever even leaves, and wants someone to say goodbye, so much it nearly screams, or someone just to hold him up for him and him alone, someone to give a gentle hug or know his home's his home, you talk to me, I'll listen child as though my very own, take my words as hug seeds sown, you're not in this alone.   Ron Purtlebaugh     Beauty Is The Essence   Beauty is the essence of, all things good and pure, A rainbow's arc from here to there, a puppy's downy fur, A newborn kitty's helplessness, the mother's quiet purr, A morning time 'long mountainside, the trees a misty blur, A glowing sun in infancy, a sunrise that matures, Last rays on an autumn day, a sunset that adjourns, A blushing bride in negligee, inviting and demure, A newborn baby's tiny fingers, holding tight to yours, A warming hug that let's you know there's one you you still allure, A summer day all muggy, hot, as winds begin to stir, The gate unlocked to freedom's flight, for prisoners immured, A silken blouse in wintertime lined with soft velour, A runner's legs, a swimmer's stroke, that wins the race, endures, A medicine for dread disease, where man has found the cure, A girl's glance, the boy she loves, and sees him seeing her, A gothic spire 'gainst evening's sky, so stately and austere, A faith that sees eternal life established and assured, The beauty of the essence of the beauty well secured.   Ron Purtlebaugh       Come Fly Away With Me   My dream, my heart, my fanciful, come fly away with me, come take my wings, come take my dreams, come see the things I see. Come romp and rove the clouds above, come drink my raindrop tea, come make the rainbow your refrain, come sing the songs I sing. Come coax with me a bright starbeam for while the night does rule, in morning time a mirror make of soft reflecting pools. Come fly with me down mountains high, and spread your wings to soar, and through the mist of foggy morn the treetops be our floor. Come fly away, my heart, my love, please ply my words in flight, for without you, the darkness reigns, your words, they are my light. Needs dress you not in garlands, Dear, in satin, silk nor lace, for e'en the orchid pales by far, your sweet and lovely face. Come lie with me 'til morning light, where that be years, or few, eternity near lives for me, each minute spent with you.   Ron Purtlebaugh      Might There Be A Way     White capped minstrels silouetted 'neath a diamond sky, a shooting star, Swoosh! to earth, a tear the Lord has cried,  tail aglow, the burning sphere, racing onward, down icy, frosty, heaven sent, Your comet earthward bound. The moaning surf hard hits the shore, I stand at water's line, I feel a need to drop and pray, so wondering the times, little children all alone, homeless in a dumpster home,  wars on wars that never end, sing minstels from the foam. How can I, one single man, a difference even make? Why, pray Lord, give this to me, I beg by some mistake? This burden Lord, of mankind's pain, a stone around me 'bout, can you find some way, Dear Lord, this thing with me, without? This gift you gave, my words, my life, might there be a way, to drown these burdens, Lord, Sweet Lord, deep in your tears, the ocean, Lord, and send them to the grave?   Ron Purtlebaugh       If You Haven't, You Should   Have you reached into the sky to touch a puffy cloud, then shroud your eyes 'gainst blinding sun, to touch another one? Have you ever saddled up to ride a rainbow, high, then lighting, like the ride so well, you took another one? Have you ever grabbed a hold, a brighted white star beam,  climbed it 'til you reached so high, you touched the black, it seemed? Have you ever dived into a raindrop's cooling pool, and swam across the surface of the tiny vestibule? Have you ever searched for drink, a nectar swollen flower, or dower of a maple tree, a sappy seeping tower? Have you ever gazed into the white capped flowing tide, took a ride while standing still, before the first wave died? Have you ever surfed the wind, to carry you away, or snuggle 'tween the cooling roots, a tree, hot summer's day? Have you ever kissed a rose, as if your dowsabel, drank the smell, her sweet perfume, or hugged a tree as well? Have you ever took the hand, a troubled one with cares a whisper-kiss, though quite unknown, to show them someone cares.   Ron Purtlebaugh        Where Did Mommy Go?   Tiny circle water rings, how large they grow, when she sticks her finger in, in each  a flower bud she sees, easy when you're three. In the water by the road puddles ooze 'tween muddy toes, "Where did Mommy go? "Who will wash my toes tonight, dirty from my hand?" "And when I stand on Mommy's chair, carefully she lets me watch  tortillas hit the heated pan. I like to tell hermano, I made them with my hands. Who will help me make them now, I've looked in every place I know, where did Mommy go?" "Mommy always told me, I was teaching her, when she taught me Mommy said what love was for I know that she loved me. Why did Papa hit her so and turn to hit on me? And why do water rings get bigger,  where did Mommy go."   Ron Purtlebaugh       River And Earth   Caressingly, I wander you, so wild, unchecked and free, touching soft your valleys deep and delving endlessly, I hug to you, slip into you 'neath pillowed clouds above,  blue skies strain to cover us, our warm and tender love, meandering, I give to you, past bare and bush, I see your beauty, and so deeply as you give, accepting me. Who, but who, can know you so, or I, as you know me? None but you, my love, my earth, I am the river stream.   Ron Purtlebaugh       Poem Tree Broken Heart Repair (ADVERTISEMENT)   I'm mending broken hearts today, they're never put to shelf, I handle them most carefully, until they're beating well. You ask me, "How?" when some are cracked, they seem beyond repair? "A very simple fix," I say, for one who truly cares. First of all, I'm mindful of the tenderness within, I touch them with the love deserved as if they were my skin. I take the tears, I always find they're covered, thoroughly, mixed with understanding make a salve to fix the beat. Applying tears, to every crack, with words, and some my own, I soothe the breaks with tenderness until the salve has drawn. Softly and most carefully, I hold it next to mine, until the two, do beat as one, in soft iambic time. So, if you have a broken heart, come visit Poem Tree,  you'll spread your wings to fly again, and love will set you free   Ron Purtlebaugh                  Without You, Could Never Be   As petals of a rose in bloom, upon my heart the words do loom, a poem spreads it's petals wide to cross it's way the great divide, no singular affair can be, as lovely as the things I see, for what I see is only there, if you are there to make it be. And seeing that you see it too, sets the petals free.   Ron Purtlebaugh       I Loved It All Before   I see that tear upon your cheek, of wonderment, a trace, questioning my love for you, so faraway a place. I'd never given you a rose, in lingerie, your sultry pose, or touched your pretty face, held you close or seen your smile, never seen the heavens lit, your pools of deep brown eyes. The photograph you sent to me, I knew the color of your eyes,  your age, your height and weight. I never knew your wants, desires, your elemental drives,  how the sunlight plays your hair in morning's early light. But, I loved them each, with all my heart, before each child was born, I love the Spring that fills the air, before it's winter shorn, I love the smell of cookies 'fore, they leave the oven warm, I love the growing Christmas Tree, before it's lit, adorned, I love the strength, the mighty oak, while still a small acorn, And long before the nighttimes quit, I love the early morn. So, you see, most 'specially love has not to do,  the cares, affairs, this earth we live, or time I've spent with you. More valuable, what's in the heart, intended and intent, more how you give your love away, not when, but how it's sent. Never to rely upon the timelessness pursuit, but what's inside your heart for me, and inside mine for you.   Ron Purtlebaugh     Her Morning Light   The breasts of morn hung well adorned in milky creamy light, Tight hugged to me in shades of white, As peeking sun began her run, 'tween dawning's tender thighs.   Reflecting schools of wading pools that wander in the tide, my emptiness, her light belied, in lurching surf to claim her turf, my thoughts a place to hide.   The scent that lent itself to be, most permeated me, I languished in the salty sea, rinsing in her sweet incense, as sunlight raised on knees.   Her hidden place, that tender space, spread, closely to me warmth, now safe from harms, in daylight's arms,  face pressed tightly to her lace, I clung me to her charms.   As slowly dusk retreated ever further to it's scorn, the negligee of misty morn, her lingerie upon me played, torn from the womb, reborn.   Ron Purtlebaugh             Where's That Word?   Heading out to end of time  halfway back to find a rhyme, nearly to the edge, the ledge in space, I wandered me back to the start, wondering, in parcel part, if the word might be indeed, harbored in a corner of my heart. I checked it then most thoroughly, searching corners earnestly, dotting I's and crossing every T, looking low and up above, found it sitting quietly, a tiny four part word called love.   Ron Purtlebaugh         Electrons Small   Electrons small, do this for me, please take me where I want to be that I might see my sweethearts words that speak to me. Take me to her tender lips, speaking, then does my heart skip to words of love that beckon me. Electrons small, please take me, please! Oh, could it be that she won't see, or my words come not to be? Then bring your voltage back on me, take my life and set me free.   Ron Purtlebaugh         You're The One Anelisa     You're not the only pebble on the beach, You're not the only wave that runs to shore, You're still the one my heart does quite beseech, You're the one I want forevermore.   You're not the only star that shines above, You're not the only starfish in the sea, You're still the one I cherish, ever love, You're the one I want eternally.   You're not the child of fortune holding gold, You're not the child, celebrity and fame, You're still the one I want to hold until we're old, You're the one I want to share my name.   Ron Purtlebaugh     Sorry Dear   I remember well the day my icing broke, as well her tears and all the fears that go unspoke, shrugged their cloak, appearing in their haunting way and had their say, as questions always seem to do, at least the kind that no one asks or if they do, not wanting to. For asking is admitting to when often that is much the task, for hidden rooms can bury fears and seems that I uncovered hers, struck a match, lit a light in the darkest of the nights when the solace of the black unknowing seemed to bring a peace, as lacking recognition rights a many wrong, sings a song of "All is well," when often times it's just a shade, from the burning heat of hell. And so it goes, I'm just a man who makes mistakes and often can see it not, when she can tell. I never sought a pedestal for early on I learned it well that what one sits upon a throne will fall one day, every sovereign owes their pay,  every dog must have their day, and I'd have never chose it so but had I taken time to think, considered all most carefully, not in some haphazard way, or had it to do o'er again, never would my sinning say, "I love you not," knowing now the very cost, what nearly lost me more than I would care to pay. And though of consolation small, all that I can say or do, is "Sorry Dear, and though I know forgetting's hard, will you please forgive me too?"   Ron Purtlebaugh         Which Paused To Stay, Which Went Away?     It sprang from when, I don't know where with little clue to cause, just what I was doing first, and which I put on pause. Was I playing right along, a child at heart, for sure, when suddenly, I stopped to work, a living need be earned? Or was I only eating first, and crying in between, and stopped to grow and go to school, for lessons needing learned? Somehow, it seemed a hiking, fishing, going for a swim, a basketball and baseball life, when suddenly it turned. I remember all at once, the first I fell in love, my happiness revolved around my new love be not spurned. Gone and soon, as first loves go, my Cherished turned away, only for a while it seemed, for life long love returned. Was childhood the one on pause, for now it's back to stay, I wonder which one stayed with me, which paused? Which went away?   Ron Purtlebaugh       Springtime Love   The incense hangs upon the boughs a springtime morn, I hear the sound, a tinkling sound of lover's love, the cooing of the mourning doves, a noiseless noise, a silent sigh, a panting, heaving, flirting, twirling dance of love of birds in flight. White-jacketed magnolias sent so blooming bright do mix and pair with jasmine scented morning air, a perfume to the harmony, the melody of love that sends a bouquet for the one's in love across the light and airy winds, for everyone and everywhere  that walk the earth, that fly above, for lovers lost in springtime love. The blossom of a new-found start that parts the way,  pushes, shoves to make it known, of all of God's and up above, this the one that found my heart.   Ron Purtlebaugh       Just So You'll Know   Unto your heart that beckons me most willfully must I suppose, in throes of gentle tenderness as time within it's passing, close, I do submit acceptingly, though I  wish could be more free and would, I know, if not for woes, of life that shows and taking me far from your charming warmth that glows, though it be there and just for me, I'd take a moment here to say, of all the words that might be spoke,  though you may think it seems the less, at least than what it might could be, three simple words from me to you, Darling, this please always know, I do, I do, I do love you.   Ron Purtlebaugh             Paid In Full O' fathoms have my debt accrued, must needs be fair and true, no limit can my eyes perceive nor mind be conscious to. On the day He speaks my fare, He'll dry my tears and true, hold me closely to His breast, "My Son, has paid for you."   Ron Purtlebaugh     Slow Dance I can feel the warmth, her  criss-crossed fingers round my neck, Percy on the stereo, crooning hot and soft and slow: "When a man loves a woman" though our insoles touch, I feel no need to look and check, and press against her tight to me her undulating breasts.. Gently wide her thighs abide to let mine enter there, I smell the sweetened softness on my lips I kiss her hair. Cheek to cheek, we wander through the swaying of his song. "Can you spend the night with me, to last a lifetime long?" Ron Purtlebaugh         Your Smile Wells of smiles from caches deep that faces live to ride, a Mother's gaze of wonderment her newborn healthy child. From Mona's most uncomfortable  to first date's here on time,  children down a playground slide, a soldier's photo file. "I got it!," for a job long sought, a tug-o-war in piles, files that drop in, one, two, three, a beaming, first A smile. Smiles that make the world go round, a martyr's finished deed, seeds that sprout and grow to bloom to celebrate release. My favorite one that sometimes seems near nothing but a trace, that means the world and more to me, the one upon your face.   Ron Purtlebaugh                   Home   TABLE OF  CONTENTS  INDEX ABOUT THE AUTHOR BACK TO TOP    These are my poems, you can use or reprint them only with easily granted permission ©copyright 2001 by Ron Purtlebaugh all rights reserved UNDER THE POEM TREE©  IS A REGISTERED TRADEMARK OF I02NODESIGNS ron@underthepoemtree.com