Master of Time

Were I the master
Of all time
And had power to roll it back.

I'd erase the years
And the lines
It uses to attack.

I'd remove the scars
And heal the wounds
That seem to run so deep.

I'd heft the cares
And carry the pounds
Your joy I'd try to keep.

Alas I'm not
This great Lord
O'er elements at my command.

But weak with faults
And dreams to horde
A ravaged soul I am.

What balm I have
I give to you
And spare none for myself.

For hope I have
You will choose
A joy that defines yourself.

(Written for Patti on our anniversary 6/30/2011)

Without Touch

Without the touch
Of the master's hand
The violin won't play.

Without the touch
Of the artist's brush
Color, canvas can't display.

Without the touch
Of the sculptor's tool
Figure won't free from clay.

Without the touch
Of a mother's hand
Her child may lose its way.

Without the touch
Of first morning's sun
Would flower know light from day.

Without the touch
of the pilgrim's path
Homage we could not pay.

Without the touch
Of two lone souls
Love will not find a way.

Without the touch
Of lover's caress
The heart will only break.