A Figment
September 25th, 2013
Some say I know who she is,
Unless I am pinned down and then I say
Really, I have no idea at all!
Exactly who she is, I mean.
The mind starts to play tricks on me,
Has me see things I cannot
Identify “in fact” and then
Next thing I know, I
Give the answer that she is a dream.
Before I can say she doesn’t exist, that the
Ether has swallowed her image, I must
Take another look – imagination is reality.
John B. Moss
17 September 2013
(Concerning ‘The Muse’)
Night Before Christmas
December 30th, 2012
'Twas the night before Christmas and everyone knew
That Santa was flying, in fact he was due
To stop by this house ere the night was all through...
I pondered and paced and I couldn't believe
That he would whisk past me on this Christmas Eve
Without stopping in, so I paused with a grin,
Knowing his sleigh would be full to the brim...
But just what is this light I see high in the sky,
Approaching and arcing and soon drawing nigh,
And then I could see that his halo was bright,
It lit up his face, which was kindly and creased.
Excuse me, I said, as I felt ill at ease,
But aren't you a stranger to this part of town?
Hard as I might, I did try not to frown.
Then the old man smiled gently, his eyes were so kind,
He gestured a wave as though he did not mind ~
My stammering sense made me feel I was blind;
I've grown some, he said, and it's been quite a while
Since I've been to Earth; he continued to smile
And suddenly there, in the darkness I knew
His was the Season: no Santa was due…
Then I knelt at His feet, and I sobbed grateful cries
But He took my hand and He bid me arise
And gave me a blessing, then took to the skies...
The gift that He gave as He faded away
Was knowing the truth about Christmas that day;
'Tis good to be loved, better yet to give love;
Best to remember, the Teacher above.
John B. Moss
24 December 2012
Late at Night
June 10th, 2012
Softly, the clock ‘tic tocs’ on the far wall.
I hear nothing, until I carefully
Listen… listen… there! Can you hear
Each of the seconds, slowly
Nodding to you as they leave the
Clock ? tic toc tic toc - all the time,
Every day, but I hear them now. G’Nite…
John B. Moss
9 June 2012
Art by Lori.