Dr. Charles A Stone Poems

on this first night of the harvest moon
this evening when diana's resplendent orb
rests upon the backs of broken clouds
transfixed by the evening's brightest star
...

One day I'd whirl through the garden,
fingers splayed in sunny rays
above newborn buds singing.
...

On a night the new moon
is chased by witch-struck clouds,
throw a rose into the air
and bury a silver spoon
...

There is only silence on the footpath
I have traced to this ancient hearth -
the hammering of stone upon stone
has faded, just as the reds and yellows
...

It isn't just the fading echoes
or galaxies festooned against
enameled night skies that
draws me to the wilderness.
...

No hand slips quietly into a body of water
without sending ripples to every shore,
just as no tide washes a beach without
carrying sand away grain by grain.
...

each wrong turn leaves a scar
on the stippled lining of my psyche

so when i turned around abruptly and
...

teach me about kisses
baskets of dreams
blankets of clouds
chalkboards of trees
...

that my breath, warm against your breasts,
fires anew the passion chilled by winter storms,
calling forth fields of melted buttercups
in which to lie beneath a warming sun.
...

in the cemetery of hope
there are crosses scattered among trees
and children waiting beneath the surface
for their chance on earth
...