Biography of Ron Kilgore
I live in Tennessee. Husband, Grandfather and still work in my profession. I write as I can and keep a blog. If you would like to see a picture of me and my family and hear some of my music, go to http: //www.rlkilgore.com
Ron Kilgore Poems
To A Fallen Leaf In Autumn
You, leaf, lying wilted and wasted, You, blissful child, too soon taken From a life you never tasted.
I Shall Wait
If death were as peaceful slumber Sailing on a gentle sea With cooling warmth from summer breezes And drifting there were she with me
You Never Know About People
Have you ever seen a gentlewoman Having sex with a man, Flat on his back with a broken leg In a cast, confined to bed,
Timidity And Pride
Why glamorize a shooting star Stealing swiftly through the darkened night, Fleet and silent as a craven thief Streaking so to cheat the dawning light?
Eons stretching beyond belief Now mean nothing but what we see, With none more precious than this day To him, knowing so few remained,
This Wisp, Happiness
Love's lofty ambition And the measure of Heaven, More sought than gold, Though through golden means,
Lift your eyes, modest lady. Reticent, sidelong glances faintly reflect the direction of your
A Woman's Love
Every man in a life Should know the love of a woman, A love with passion sustained beyond the night, A love more devoted than to its own breath,
Water on the moonlit lake is smooth. So smooth, surface ripples swirl In diverse directions from an invisible hand Of the breeze which I neither hear nor feel.
Where Is The Time
The clock’s illuminated eye Portrays in numerated scheme, As notes, in song, pass on once heard, A pulse inclined so not to dwell
This poem was written for an elderly lady, Haydee Cansada. She was born into position and wealth in Cuba, but had to leave when Castro came to power. She lived in a small apartment in our town to be near her brother, her closest remaining relative. I took Spanish lessons from her and the reference to an owl comes from a discussion we had about why the owl is a symbol of wisdom. She longed for the chance to see Cuba again but it never happened. I wrote this for her as a present while she was still alive. Caribbean Blue
Shades Of Gray
Standing by the water's edge, I think Of her and cinch my collar close to void The chilling breeze. She said...........
Vibrant rays of sun rain down, Splash and cover all around - Resplendent colors, yellow, green Of crocuses and mown grass sheen.
Two Old Men
Two old men together In a small cafe downtown Near the corner talked About good old days.
This poem was written for an elderly lady, Haydee Cansada. She was born into position and wealth in Cuba, but had to leave when Castro came to power. She lived in a small apartment in our town to be near her brother, her closest remaining relative. I took Spanish lessons from her and the reference to an owl comes from a discussion we had about wh