Monday, October 25, 2004

Your love. . .

Your love
is like a dead dead rose. . .

paraphrase of Robert Burns
My Love is like a red red rose (1794)

I won't tell you who I wrote this for. . .
but you know who you are!
It came to me as I was rereading my Dead Rose.
"a dead rose come fall
offers nothing at all
no warmth in chill storms
still painful are her thorns"
• Michael R. Martin •

Friday, October 22, 2004


It gets dark early
and I find myself alone with myself. . .
The life of a friend reduced to a few paragraphs, memories, and regrets.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

On the Death of a Friend

A cold drizzle
and yellow-brown leaves
drifting down on this Adirondack fall day.

Lost a friend
someone a part of my life
I wish I had known better

Makes no sense to ask why.
I know why he was in my life,
as he was in many lives. . .

to affect a positive change in direction
to serve in God's plan for each of us
whose lives he touched.

Rob Bonham
5/15/51 - 10/16/04
husband, father, friend
a man who made a difference

Sensitive, caring, rugged, sharing
He was a "good" man
working side by side with him in the field
He had a peace, a gentleness, and a stillness of soul
that helped guide me to my church home.

Sunday, October 17, 2004

Dead Rose

i suppose, but who knows
your love like a dead rose
a faded memory, scentless
so little to recall

not fair, can't share
close friends are nowhere
close friends never knew
that brief moment with you

a dead rose come fall
offers nothing at all
no warmth in chill storms
still painful are her thorns

Summer fading • a new song

words & music copyright (c) Michael R. Martin 2004

Summer is fading away
Crickets seek their last fling
The stars still shine, and the bats still fly,
but they can't seem to catch anything.

Fat spiders snuggle up close to the eaves
but the grass is still green, collecting dew.
Thinking 'bout life and the passage of time:
dark skies and moonlight and you;
dark skies and midnight and you.

In the shade of an old oak tree
waves lap at the shore.
I've often pondered the spectrum of life
but it don't seem to matter no more.

Fat spiders snuggle . . .

I never thought it would come.
No I never wished for this day.
Now that it's here, I miss you, my dear.
But I can't think of nothing to say.

Fat spiders snuggle . . .

Early Morning Drive • September 13, 2004

5 AM
Lake Flower
Lights reflect across cool still waters