Steven S. Walsky Poems

Two days have passed,
I find her glass.
Still half full,
waiting
...

I was born to love a Southern girl,
blond hair, black hair, brown hair,
straight or curled,
I was born to love a Southern girl.
...

I thought of you today
in a most interesting way
not that you are ever missing from my thoughts
for your unselfish beauty fills my heart
...

i know what i may do
visit the black swans anew
if still they glide upon the lake
...

Bobby said that the clown died yesterday,
Old Willie was his name.
Even though we’d miss his act,
the circus played just the same.
...

the rusted metal of bridges now trackless
the steel skeletons seen through un-paned portals of dirty,
cracked brick abandoned factories
the aged wooden, derelict outbuildings
...

The darkness of night so deftly creeps upon us
incasing each of us
in its velvet softness
...

March drags the days along
a slow progression
winter's echo near
spring's minuet playing out its contradictions
...

Each time I hear a bird sing,
see a flower bloom,
feel the warmth of the sun,
my mind drifts among the clouds,
...

Are not the flowers more joyous
not for their beauty alone,
more beautiful they are
because their uniqueness does shone.
...