So many lines and laments
scribed in ink and feeling,
for the girl who is the ocean

but she is a swell and surge
too dauntless and wild,
for a lover whose bones crave the shore.

She craves the squalls and gusts,
and cast iron skies,
a worldly drift to sate the salt in her skin,
the deep pull of currents in her blood.

She is chaotic but not reckless,
she is fickle, but not feckless.
Love her boldly or not at all
her bones belong to the sea
but she will always return to the shore.

A form letter delivered by a Colonel's wife
She climbed the front porch steps on a beautiful spring day
The letter she handed me would forever change my life
What had been a gorgeous blue sky turned dingy and gray
My remembering our sweet life cuts me like a knife
The news that my best friend was never going to return
I was too shocked to cry or to react in any way
I carried the crumpled letter all day it made my eyes burn
Friends kept coming with casseroles and some bouquets
Is this table full of food and flowers what your life earns?
I am staring at your photograph on the buffet
I have so much to do when they bring what was you  
Oh, how I wish I could make it all just go away
Planning a funeral my best friend to bid adieu
I don't know where your earthly remains will come to lay
This is not something I ever thought I would do
When we used to meet after class at that tiny cafe
Why did we delay our decision to have a child?
I'll need something to hold as your face fades away
You were my great hero so passionate and so wild
I'll always agnosco veteris vestigia flammae
I loved how you stood face to face with horror and smiled
I must face my losses I can no longer delay
I do not know what I'll miss the most you or our life

Wandering the wild shore among the dunes
The sunset colored the peaks in glowing gold
In the shaded purple folds, gray gnarled driftwood was strewn
In anticipation of the moon I strolled

I love the cold white light of a waxing moon
A heavenly body my path to unfold
To illuminate foot prints where they were strewn
Alone with dunes and beach by me patrolled

From atop the sand dune a moonlit lagoon
The V shaped ripples from water fowl, look, behold
The surface like molten glass behind the loons
Man, cannot dominate that which I behold

A certain song the sea wind knows
it sends thru puckered lips,

like kisses blown, across the bows
of drowsing sailing ships;

and stirs their sleepy sails
from their slumber with it's tune,

unfurls their folded petals
and brings them back in bloom.

She loosens on tiptoe
the latch of her window,

slides upward the sash
and the shine of the moon

pours over the sill,
like it's rushing downhill

like a silver stream,
flooding her room.

When this skin
was young and ironed,
well it fit,
like new things do;

that was then
but now I find
the cracks within
are showing through.

You shared a piece of who you are with everyone in that room
A piece they could understand, empathize with
So that they could learn from that piece
And add it to their collection

And it felt great to share it
And it will feel great a year from now or maybe two
When gratitude finds it way back to you
For the meaning they were able to place on that piece you gave
But the moment you leave the room
You can feel that it’s missing

And you realize
Far too late
That the architecture of your identity is no longer structurally sound
Because you gave away too many pieces
And you didn’t take anyone else’s in return

from November, 2015*

"How do you know which one to choose", my granddaughter Emily asked , as we pulled into the parking lot of the shelter. "It will be the first one that gets up to meet us" I said, with a bit of anxiety.
After registering at the desk, we began the walk down the aisle, looking at the occupants of those cages that lined both sides. All of a sudden, about 10 feet in front of us, a grey and black striped leg with a white foot, came protruding out from the front of a cage. The paw began "flexing", as if signaling, "Hey! Over here!"
As I held her, and Emily stroked her forehead, she emanated a very strong, exuberant, vibrating, purr; contented, unafraid, her head tucked into the crook of my arm. We had found my Guardian Angel!

I whispered to her as softly as I knew how:

"We are going home-
I will always keep you safe,
I will never harm you
You will always have shelter, food, and water-
I will keep you warm in the winter........
and cool in the summer.......
You will not 'want', for love."


As I whispered those words, her purr grew stronger, her paw flexing against my arm. For you see, I am convinced that God told her we were coming, and to give us a sign to let us know where she was. It was He, who chose her for us. Some of you may not agree with that, and that's okay. It's important that me and Emily believe it. Regardless of which room I'm in(except the bath), she is there, as she is now, asleep on the foot of the bed as I write. My home isn't empty.... anymore.

copyright: richard riddle-11-11-2015

When my wife, Karen, passed away, the "angel" we had, Scheppes, stayed with me until she was twenty. Brie does not take her place, for she has her own place, and is doing quite well as a "Guardian Angel", in training!

from June, 2016*

An hour before sunrise,
not long before  going home-

It's still, no breeze, this Sunday morn-
silent......... serene-
As I step into the woods

I know they're watching,
those denizens of the forest-
Raccoon, possum, birds, etc.

I purse my lips
emit a soft whistle-
No reply
Another....no reply

A few more steps......then..
the soft 'coo' of the Mourning Dove-
"How gentle it is", comforting... in it's greeting

A raccoon appears in front of me,
the 'sentry' for the others, who are still hiding
In the underbrush, and in the trees.

They are "The Angels",
"You are safe with us", his eyes tell me-
It is then I know,  it's going to be..... a "good day."


r. riddle 06-26-2016