From a Gentle Perch

From a gentle perch

in a breeze so soft,

soothed by the serenity

I surveyed alone from my loft.

I peered to the left

I surveyed to the right,

all was well with the world

oh what a calming sight.

Off to the north sat

an island all alone,

seemingly untouched by man

Hog Island proudly shone.

Then to the south

I ventured to see,

bodies bobbing in the water

so relaxed and looking free.

Each one stayed away

observing the privacy of the other,

all lying exposed

some defiantly without cover.

Most just floated with

rigid masts in the air,

swaying to and froe

in life without a care.

Then I saw him

gliding over the surface,

a man on a mission

full of awareness and purpose.

Like a hand on a body

gliding hither and there,

reaching for a spot

so beckoning and fare.

Very obvious to me

he had gone there before,

headed for that beachhead

on the far distant shore.

I gazed with envy as his

vessel glided into the slot,

he was slowly enveloped

by a most warm and gentle spot.

The moistness about him

the salty scent in the air,

it all embraced him

as a friend wanting to share.

Sometime later I

spotted him on his return,

he appeared enlightened and free

Aa a deer surrounded by forested fern.

Here was a man

who went on a quest,

in search on a trip

that left him feeling his best.

Little do I know

if he accomplished his goal,

but from the smile on his face

he had a satisfied soul.

From a gentle perch

in a breeze so soft,

soothed by the serenity

I surveyed alone from my loft.

Gary R. Cramer

December 22, 2012

Sea Mist 1 in Tomales Bay

Gone

Gone is the woman

who stole my heart,

whisking it away

from the very start.

Gone are the days

of loving warm touch,

her caring hugs

I’ll miss so much.

Gone are the nights

we shared a meal,

the way she would listen

and make me feel.

Gone are the trips

we shared together,

hours, days or weeks

no matter the weather.

Gone are the calls

messages day and night,

often times crying

fleeing a family fight.

Gone is the joy

the sound of her laugh,

innocent and free

as a new born calf.

Gone are the notes

left here and there,

proving her heart

with so much care.

Gone are the hugs

so willingly giving,

so full of love

a life worth living.

Gone is her life

too early taken,

what of destiny

so badly mistaken.

Gone is that twinkle

caught in her eye,

a sight ever lost

with a dying sigh.

Gone is the woman

who stole my heart,

whisking it away

from the very start.

Dedicated to the memory of my first wife. Gone but NEVER forgotten.

Thank you for helping make me a better man.

Elizabeth Jean Bussey

March 13, 1948 – June 16, 2015

Gary R. Cramer

June 27, 2015

Gone Is The Path

Gone is the path

life has lost it’s theme,

unsure of the future

I’ve forgotten my dream.

Like a meandering ship

no view of a goal,

it’s as if the shadows

have robbed my soul.

To follow my instincts

feel from the heart,

where are those things

I had at the start.

Once determined and strong

now faltering and weak,

longing for that guide

the inner voice to speak.

Gary R. Cramer

October 28, 1992