Blast From The Past

This is from the Travelogues poem cycle, to be found in Haunted Lives.

BLAST FROM THE PAST

I'm waiting at the train station ...
Lofty windows lurch into perspective,
High ceilings collect spaces still reeling
In my stomach, the mirror of my squealing mind:
The waiting hall's an echo of past times,
And memories won't coax my soul
To celestial heights any more –
Our parting is still rippling through my mind

I want to sit in an empty room
With just a candle burning,
And strum some strings and sing a simple song -
I'm waiting, waiting for my train ...

© George H.E. Koehler, 1985 & 1986, 2009

A Hold On The Soul

Taken from the Travelogues poem cycle, available in the Haunted Lives collection of poems and songs.

A HOLD ON THE SOUL

Cold is the master of us all
It falls apon the large and small
Its servants wind, water and dark
Possess earth once it's passed the mark
Where Autumn, plunged in Winter's white,
Loses its fire - colour fades
Crisp flakes drape landscapes, coat the night
Serene, soft hills cover grassblades

Cold's minions creep up on the living,
Their lust for life, all they are giving
Is taken from them - they clutch air
Dampness extinguishes their flair
Upon their weary way to work
They shudder, hearing winter's call,
Cold grips their souls with an icy smirk –
It is the master of us all.

© George H.E. Koehler 1985, 2009