Silent Still His Ship at Sea

Silent still his ship at sea,
Calm pervades time endlessly,
Concentric circling ripples rise,
The only movement ‘fore his eyes,

Alone, afar on distant shore,
A woman waiting evermore,
For him the one who loves her so,
The distance now her only foe.

Bring forth a breath to lift the sail,
To heave its hull from wat’ry dale,
To creak the board and strain the line,
To fall and rise on waves divine,

He also prays for wind and wave,
The fleeting thought of ocean grave,
What power hath love as nature reigned?
Or God bestow one favor deigned.

All mystery wrapped in this hour,
The winds astir a fevered power,
Pure gusts begin to fill the cloth,
The gallant sea begins to froth.

A sailing full they speed at last,
Amidst a storm and fury’d blast,
The clouds unleash torrential rain,
Awash the sweat; the toil and strain.

But shore again at last is spied,
The crew with spirit fortified,
And lover on the beach does roam,
Her sailor sees his love; he's home.

Peter Lowell Paulson
May 4, 2011

She Wore a Yellow T-Shirt

Blue happy face on bright yellow shirt,

And attention to the way her form,

Makes the cute face-circle stand out,

Smiling broader for effect,

Affects his mind and smile within,

Yet serious faced iis he,

He wants to meet her,

Get to know the girl,

With long tanned legs,

Slender footed in her flip-flops,

And oh, the long light brown hair,

And a face between and above,

The blue happy face on her bright yellow shirt.



Peter Lowell Paulson

May 2, 2011

Fruit Bowl in Still Life

Cascading silken leaves that fall,

On kitchen table one and all,

Surround the wood wove lattice pear,

And red ripe plastic berries there.

The rippled green and chaliced bowl,

On silvered stand creates the whole,

They offer up to passing eye,

One beautiful and captured sigh.

Now I receive the artist’s view,

On each new day again brand new,

A favorite and wondrous thing,

And splendor in its offering!

Peter Lowell Paulson

May 2, 2011

The Inky-Dinky Pirate Ship

The Inky-Dinky pirate ship it sailed the ocean blue,
The winky blinky pirate men they were a motley crew,
Why some would wink and some would blink we have no single clue,
Yet they’ve been mates; have sailed the seas since they were only two,

Yes they were born on far off isle that sits quite lost at sea,
They see their dad but once a year he lives up in a tree,
The mom she is a friendly sort the pirates all agree,
‘Cause she will cook up anything and they can eat for free.

And when they’re full they pile aboard their Inky-Dinky ship,
They chock the cogs and chine the brails at start of every trip,
They tighten every bumpkin tight; they don’t want them to rip,
And when the cofferdam is full they’re off at speedy clip.

They travel near and travel far to find fine chests of gold,
And gems, and pearls, and treasure things and put them in their hold,
They never sell one bit of it for this is what I’m told,
They only want great heaps of it to have when they are old.

And how do Inky-Dinky pirate men find stuff you ask?
They look for other pirate men on beaches where they bask,
And when the other pirates sleep from boozing from the flask,
They sneak and carry off their gold that’s how they do this task.

Another year has come and gone their pirate work is done,
Their dad will see them once again and they will all have fun,
Their mom will cook and they will eat from dawn to setting sun,
And soon the Inky-Dinky ship will make another run.

Peter Lowell Paulson
April 30, 2011

The Oriental Lamp

The copper curl,

A teepee’d top,

The glass below a lemon drop,

It’s odd the way the brass wires

Hold the odd shaped sphere,

And deep within the flame flickers,

Like a firefly trapped,

In its crystalline cage,

Shine forth,

Erotic light on wood and cobblestone below,

Eerie shadows creep,

Darkened secrets keep,

As sovereign, silent souls

Wander warily,

Toward your beacon.


April 28, 2011

Peter Lowell Paulson

The Geisha

All style and grace,

A beautiful face,

Skin whiter than milk,

And dressed in fine silk,

Kimono the wear,

Kanzashi in hair,

The ornaments bright,

One fabulous sight,

Transformed from a girl,

A gem or a pearl,

The dance so divine,

She pours sweetest wine,

So gently demure,

Demeanor quite pure,

This geisha unique,

Creates the mystique,

And draws each in time,

A magic sublime.

Peter Lowell Paulson

April 27, 2011

Note: Inspired by the movie "Memoirs of a Geisha".

Sustaining Light

Oh cup of intermingling light,

Watch o’er me tonight,

For in my flight I fear,

The fancy and the fool in me,

And I long for inner days of peace,

And tranquility,

I know tis you that draws them both,

The road is dim yet plain before me,

Daybreaks at dawn,

My path is illumined,

And I consumed with passion,

Burning like the sun,

Will run to meet you,

Fear not for me,

I am strongly purposed,

Love first,

Duty,

Honor,

And trust in you,

My guiding,

And sustaining light.



Peter Lowell Paulson

April 28, 2011