MY GLOWING, GENTLE FRIEND

for Carolyn Clayton

It’s those soft-spoken moments we offer

at lunch I keep close, when we quietly

measure the universe. Words grown softer

even when we speak of children—of my

Catherine and your Tim, Cristen, Clayton—

and those extended stars glowing across

our spectrum. How we laugh when we lay on

impromptu puns and ironies, each cross

made acceptable through balance. You may

stand alone as caregiver, nurturing

legions of both doctors and patients. Stay

my duet partner, will you? Endearing

times after meetings when we thrill small throngs,

some image making us break into song.

Roger Armbrust

January 31, 2013

PSYCHE NASTY

Psyche nasty with its stinky thinky

wills me wallow in negative un-nice,

wants my eyes glaring with wicked winky

crushing tall buildings, melting glacier ice,

stomping kids’ toys with thick brutal booties,

slamming naked noses with knuckled fists,

cramming neighbors’ clothes with gnawing cooties,

stuffing ex-lovers’ cars with rotting fish.

How can heart crumple this psyche nasty?

How can brain rumple its evil preying,

missile its messy primeval fasty

to vast neverlasty?...Was I saying

preying? Oh, choice voice! Oh, wise tongue dancer!

Right word, wrong spelling! Praying’s the answer!

Roger Armbrust

January 30, 2013

BRIGHT YELLOW TRAIN

Bright yellow train with conductor, slicken-

haired and needing clip, no bother to cool

kitty looking on since red-crowned chicken

has her back while blue and brown pooches rule

rear cars. No bother train leans a bit off

rail on its blue dresser-drawers mountain.

Does pretty miss with bright yellow hair, soft

blue gingham dress with lacy collar and

cuffs—eyes of heaven and lashes like church

spires—sit waiting for bright yellow train? Does

she listen in silence for cars’ brief lurch

as they pause near her shiny patent shoes,

and kitty mews, chicken clucks, dogs bark, all

greeting pretty miss with happy love calls?

Roger Armbrust

January 29, 2013

RARE CREATURE LOVING IT

Rare creature loving it, may your feet dance

over currents of poets’ thoughts, verses

carrying you beyond fortune and chance

to clear spring where Calliope nurses

both Orpheus and Linus, peers over

her shoulder and smiles at you, recalling

Memory her mother. You discover

Linus never cries, but sings, installing

music into human psyche; teaches

it to his brother who charms all living

things and stones, as you charm me. Your reaches

of wit and truth unveil endless giving.

Did you know that about yourself and your

godliness? Care’s essence in rare creatures?

Roger Armbrust

January 28, 2013

MY MUSE, MY FRIEND

My muse, my friend, I love the way you see

civilization in a Tiffany

lamp’s stained leaded glass lighted so gently;

shelves lined with candles, goblets, uncanny

statuettes of porcelain, ceramic;

a potted cactus on a ladder step.

I smile at your eccentric self, comic

lines linking ironies as you accept

your faults and others’. Your classic photos

of the kiddos while playing and at ease.

Most of all, how caring guides your ethos,

actions dedicated to love, not please.

Outside mute sparrows still wander bare trees.

I wish you were here watching them with me.

Roger Armbrust

January 26, 2013