A Birthday Poem – Ted Kooser

Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head

in a black stanchion of trees,

waiting for someone to come

with his bucket

for the foamy white light,

and then a long day in the pasture.

I too spend my days grazing,

feasting on every green moment

till darkness calls,

and with the others

I walk away into the night,

swinging the little tin bell

of my name. 

Birth-Day Wishes – Frank Gutsche

Windy beach, summer jests, 

little girl dipping her toes in cold sand, 

in shivered moments of water she froze.

Apple trees, bright leafy days, 

gentle breeze, cat chased bird, 

magic backyard witches’ shed, 

mother’s angry words.
Ancient pirate’s treasure, 

locked coins in a crumbling chest.

A little girl’s Barbie doll’s hair cut, 

she severed its blonde-maned crest.
Birth-day: 

the wheel of life spins, 

Mother’s lullabies, 

the sound of cherished comfort yearns, 

years carve their spirals. 
I wish you happiness, 

and its endless returns 

Cherry Blossoms  – Frank Gutsche

The trees: White as wedding gowns.

Shedding their blossoms, branches, crowns? 

Like tears embarrassed, blow away free. 

We sit. There is a path; under a tree. 
People pass us by; time is slowed, 

on a camera they’d fade into a blurred line; 

we speak, words bound, betrothed.

Your voice: comforting as I drink your wine. 
Were it not you, 

what would be: 

love? 

Were it not for you, 

What would I ask, 

what would I ask to be? 
Then I would float, 

Float on those embarrassed petals, 

white; 

I would float standing, watching.

Watching you and me; 

as you lean against me, 

you see me on a swirling petal: 

I float.

I look at you, 

and in one moment I would say: 

love’s eye is beyond one could ever see.
I am near you; 

yet so endlessly far away, 

floating in a blue sky, 

I do not touch the ground; 

were it not for you, 

what would be: 

love?