A Sonnet for Veronica in Maine

Heart of Love

Time has crept rapidly down garden path
Heart of love pounds longingly in my chest
Flowers bloom quickly on the edge of wrath
Clouds of dark temper torments glad hope best.
Rain begins its silent fall to dry ground
Absorbed within the mind of lonely men
The lady sits quietly waiting a sound
Soon a troubled robin lands near the pen.
Over mountains the breeze coldly tails fate
Morning comes sparkling to the valley proud
Journey ends its magic upon the slate,
Destined to begin the tale once more loud;
So you see, love has to be tried by me,
As I walk toward the rim of the sea.

Robert Dodson
May 11, 2009

For Mother's Day

Wondering

I can see you on that mesa, stars above, valley below.
The dim objects your thoughts.
The cacti, far off mountains wondering why...
Dreaming of things that might have been and
Searching the lonely roads of memory,
All the roads lead to nowhere, but I am here
Thinking, wondering, what might have been?
The road of my heart is curved and troubled,
Until the idea comes down the straight line of my brain;
I am lost again without you in my love.
The moon tiptoes through a starry night,
Yielding slowly to the first rays of a red sun;
As day begins to leap upon my vista
The rattler slithers toward noon,
All at once the emotion floods my eyes,
Another Mother’s Day has reached my soul.
My anguish, my loss compels me to share my love,
To my growing daughter that one day too,
I’ll see her on a lonely, starry mesa.

Robert Dodson
May 10, 2009

Topic suggested by A. Thoren

The Kitten and the Bunny

Walking through dry summer pasture
A bunny darts quickly.
Stopping he wiggles his ears to catch the sounds
Sloped rock hides him from easy view.
Nearby a learning kitten stalks an unseen prey,
Cautious the cat creeps
Slowly the kitten moves, pausing for motion.
The bunny unaware nibbles grass,
Ever closer the kitten slinks
Suddenly the kitten leaps.
The bunny darts rapidly and hops away
For a brief moment the kitten follows.
Soon a branch moves in the slight air
A swift movement captures the kitten’s eye.
Off the kitten speedily runs and jumps.
Catching his tail the kitten tumbles
Toward the tiny ribbon of water.
Only I saw the kitten fall into the brook
My kitten emerged soaked through
Shaking his body, then a hind foot kicking out and
Then the other hind foot kicking startles the bunny,
The race was on
Darting to and fro the kitten easily gives up.
I called for “Mister Shadow” with tail pointing up
He rubbed against my leg.

Robert Dodson
May 9, 2009

Written for Tara Johnston

Labored Dreaming

Tools' puzzle on ordeals buried over victory's mask

Asked, given triumphant happiness of lament streaming

Roles awakened to distant thunder of labored dreaming

Against odds felled by unattained heights eases the task.

Joy streams onward under lids closed open so tightly

Over a hand struggling, reaching the final justice rightly

Honor holds its keys to seek rings never ending travels sight

Nodding approval nurtures a cautious belief of foes timid might.

Seeking multitude tears wel into canyons, valleys lined deep

Trails to a knowing tenderness leave, achieve a bold leap,

Old habits squabble steadily for woken gain to chance

Nothing happens endlessly on doors ajar at the dance.

Robert Dodson

May 4, 2009

Written for Gloria Nelson

Caution Dares

Guarded passion closely held steadies a future told
Lying under dreams studied hope rise ever toward passion
On steamy, silent, sturdy path the trail becomes bold
Raised before dingy, dark, drab feeling hollow eyes vision.

Images haunt harangue, hurtle blindly into seas of change.
Always triumphant, trendy, treating senses sought for final victory.
Needy soul charges, changes, come blasting open walls never sorry.
Escape grasps shoulders and all tossing back to rocks strange

Learned lessons leap atop hope stifling the picture slanted clothes
Sun comes dawn above a horizon dimly, daintily, duly silent again
Old trails left behind comes roaring, rearing, reaching night rain.
Near at hand, hoping, helping distance fears evenly posed.

Caution dares, dreams, and drives forward to chain release
Symptoms stymie, steady fingers aching to cease
Ever going, gazing, galloping quickly sounds advance
Passion pulls, parries minds race upon a last furtive glance.

Giving a quiet respite into life’s’ travels on roads of peace
Nodding loud, leery, luscious bending the final chance
Gaining momentum bloody hands revel at the victory feast
Necessary trials teach, take the overdue lance.

Robert Dodson
April 29, 2009

Written for Amy Thoren

Dreaded Hope

Above open depths of dreaded hope paths cross to lurid lake
Methods drool to venture through a dusty plate.
Yearned compassion lies silently below heart’s window
Echoes of standards visibly take root upon shallow throw

Landing near points, held upon furrowed, feeble furtive brow.
Against mountain backdrop the dream comes boldly clear.
Nestled within a tumbled, tawdry triumphant seer
Among few wanting unknown knowledge burns a dim glow

Trusting, trying, taking chance left for trivial demand
Huddled around styles of muddled gratitude reveals ideas
Obtuse, open, oval strangely gauged toward the sand
Reaps bountiful fancy of thorough, timely, trained fees

Edgy nerves, needful, nurtured stand before the remnant
Nodding turns trials, tested, tough pain reveals greed
Amiable, arid, aware staunches medicinal need
The news, near, necessary comes - your pregnant.

Robert Dodson
April 28, 2009

Written for Laura Yoogood

Through Teary Heart

Listen to paths taught through teary heart above yearning sea
Alter sight under soft, simple voice of reason in the dank night
Use ears to grasp minds daring statement toward presence might
Regain truth of power held under stately, lonely tree.

Ardor for senses masked in the heart disputes kind treasonably
Tested, rested, wrested from crimes central task sensibility
Open doorway beckons child through danger culpability
Onward, journey stumbles on grass burned hazardly.

Glancing, prancing feet take soulful care of motionless breath
Often sensed, seldom heard, truth wages disparate battle
Only wrangled words willfully hold single, bungled beaten death
Dreary skies let forth turbulent anger on earthly chattel.

Robert Dodson
April 28, 2009

Written for Donna L. Wilson

Anchored Voice

Destiny shouts toward waiting valley of far away land
Over stoic remnants of paths long, loping bridge dreams
Never seeking relief from tortured wind and moon beams
Needing fateful sparkled slumber of past reckless stand.

Anchored voice stands steeply silent in staid casks
Looming upon a drenched tale of nightmare tasks
Woven within weeds last chance of halting crest
Images lunge into vortex stalled under the breast.

Lurching forward toward shiny shutter of blue hue
Standards waver beneath burning ember strands of flame
Open taste of seas tirade against granite under blame
Now comes time of seasons just bill is due.

Robert Dodson

April 26, 2009

A poem dedicated to Lisa J. Lehmann

Traveled Vision

Laughing, dreaming fun waits out the door
Intense yearning tugs the gifts of a single heart.
Subtle will exerts its toll upon a supple floor.
Autumns trudge heavily toward the distant start.

Judged jugs justify freely scorned of one just.
Labyrinthine loathing burst upon scenes of trust.
Enduring energy enfolds rugs toward the sound
Hiding closely budged near nestling found

Moments rein the feats of nervous walls.
Around a traveled vision stands goals quiet ground.
Nothing calls to trumpets glorious guiled sound,
Neatly rested over poised wooden stalls.

Robert Dodson
April 26, 2009

A poem dedicated to Lilane Rausch

Maverick Times

Learned events trouble past enjoyment of timely days
Irrigating senses offer solution of majestic beauty.
Leaping upward cleanses souls to sounds for due sea.
Increased abundance stowed for needed phase.

A breeze gently flowing across cheeks tanned
Needing nothing sustains maverick times once banned
Each cloud hold promise of rare moisture seldom dammed
Revealing heat takes upon shoulders seeking rest on the land.

Asking relief need never be spoken to ears unwilling for sound
Useful tears moisten lips never kissed the ground
Solid visions of dreams held last life’s ragged breath
Chosen dreams seek solitude of each day’s death
Held in place by annual reins forever bound.

Robert Dodson
April 25, 2009

Strangely, I have no dedication for this poem. Go Figure.

Smallness Within

Gaze upon the majesty enclosed in the heart
Releases passion for a beginning again.
Days of future seem a distant part,
Pieces hanging loosely in a gentle rain.

Sensing a path once taken thunders soft
Tense muscles need a strain of safety
Looking backward righting my insensitivity
Spooked into a smallness within my loft.

Phased in moments, singly spaced frees life
Dense in spaced, wide valleys of new hope
Going far to be near eases the strife
So long as I never, slip on the soap.

Robert Dodson
September 23, 2007

This poem was written for my wife Faye. We were married on her birthday, April 23, 1985.

Through Misty Forest

Alone walking through misty forest,
Groping to jerk tears from my eyes
An arduous duty calms wisdom’s test
Tying trails to hearts’ talking of far skies.

Hearing victory excites dull tries
As air embraces me among all fires
Facing challenge is my behest
As one debates full charged chest,

Youthful yearning for bravery dear
Energy drains as Sol dips to low sky
Donning thickly skinned events fly
Over often pondering learned final fear.

Dreams of future haunt my soul
Saying nothing is not the crest
Over which I journey toward rest
Neat nesting leaves life a filled bowl.

Robert Dodson
January 14, 2007

This poem was written for Ron Jenkins

Nothing Chanced

Raising voices of trusted safety
Opened my mind to glaring holes
Noted once, then used as souls
Justice opened a raked bee.

Enhanced by age volume peaked
Nesting on past deeds, acts freaked
Kites billowed lazily in spring clouds
Insects crested my tiny soles aloud.

Nothing chanced a dream is lost
Scorning is my hesitant cost
Rising above a small vacant lot
Jerking free I become the moth.

Robert Dodson
March 12, 2007

This poem was written for Josieinthecity from Twitter

Standing Dream

Journey deep into realms of strong silence
Opened to a voice of long standing dream
Searching evermore for future bubbling stream
Echoes of trips unmade closed by wooden fence.

Lurching forward upon the chasm of penance
Yearning always for peace of substance.
Normal visions face cloudy marred hope
Jabbed into startled fortitude of the slope.

Over majestic vistas of untouched chance
Seared upon brains reaching clouds’ gate
Emitting soundless cries of terrors cruel slate
Looming into view abreast problems dense.

Yokes held tightly upon shoulders weak
Nodding upon a gaze desperately sought.
Justice leaps forward above hearts’ reach,
Mission stands finished as work not bought.

Robert Dodson
April 9, 2009

This poem was inspired by DebsSweet of Twitter.

Struggle

Dreams evoke bare open reigns attached hearts
Argue upon simplistic tomorrow’s inner necessity
Daring to climb solitude for enduring torts
Each day brings past creep toward missed sea.

Braced moonlight quivers through barren limbs,
Opportunity fails hope riding dense forest
Rankled under pillars of gloried taught hymns
As breath returns haltingly begs nights’ rest.

Hope leaps through throats long reach
Alone fighting struggles of faded misery
Using unknown wisdom beaches eerie
Sounds of danger closer to forsaken breach.

Time stands solid upon eons of moments
Inside chests moving ragged for lost cheer
Nestled within spans of misshapen ascents
Altered ugly stains tumble inside nature.

Robert Dodson
April 7, 2009

This is a poem inspired by Twitter user @deltavogue.

A Sleepless Heart

Misty dawn awakens a sleepless heart
Open to care trods gently upward
Numbers dance deep blessing parts
Inside a soul chanced with bent hope.

Craving desire to aid a venture risky
Alive within the confines of memory
Loping faster to reach unseen cart;
Richer to be born alive in the sun.

Of dreams forever scalded on vision
Withheld beneath a beating start to
Labor diligently for the days of fun;
Amid a careless spoken silent word.

Neighbors sense purpose of known threat
Delight brims upon a minds’ surface
Mirroring a birth that never ceases,
Remaining true now until stars fade.

Robert Dodson

April 4, 2009

Roads of Time

This poem was written for a poetry contest. A couple of weeks earlier, my dad passed away. I was still grieving and still hadn't shed any tears from his passing. When I began the poem, it was to be about something else. But this was the first and only draft, it seems God directed my heart and my pen (fingers typing). So with 12 lines of poetry, I remembered my life with my dad. The result of the poetry contest you ask? It was selected as one of about fifty others for third place. The poem is the namesake of my blog.

Roads of Time

Walking the lonely roads of time, I face myself.
The puffs of dust gently follow the slight air,
As the grains fall slowly, they echo my despair.
Raising my eyes, misery lies on the shelf.

The pounding in my chest never ceases, ever drumming
hopes of newness unknown, wilting my joy forever.
Creasing brow tangles the web of larger endeavor.
Cautious moments bloom again into smiles of humming.

Stalking the days of glory on sun-drenched youth,
Seas foaming, calling back to visions once held.
Last images always haunt minds gazing truth,
Praising battles fought in life alone and felled.

Robert Dodson
May 1995

Adapt or Change – Life with a Disability

It all began on a balmy fall evening. With siren wailing, the ambulance slid to a stop at the emergency room. Rapidly, people were bustling about the stretcher occupied by a very pregnant lady. The attendants wheeled her into the closest available labor room. Sometime later, upon proper dilation, she was taken into the delivery room. About twenty minutes later, a healthy green eyed baby boy was born. Starting to fill out the birth certificate, the nurse glanced at her wrist watch. The time was one twenty A.M., October 31, 1951. Three days later the new mother was released from the hospital. The weather had changed drastically. It was now very wintry and cold in Houston, Texas. As the child grew, that weather change was a peek into the change coming in the infants’ life.

At seven months the child was christened in the Lutheran church. By this time, he was pulling himself up on furniture and doing other things in preparation for walking. Two weeks later, the child became ill. At first, the young mother thought he had the flu. A day or two later, while resting in his crib, the attractive young mother noticed he wasn’t making the effort to standup holding onto the rail. Knowing there was the beginning of a polio outbreak in Houston, she rushed her child to the doctor.

She was promptly called back to visit the doctor. Examining the child, the pediatrician confirmed the hopeful mother’s fears. Robert had polio. The doctor began preparations to treat the child. At the time, the only hospital with adequate facilities to treat polio was the VA hospital in Houston. The doctor arranged everything. Two hours later the child was admitted as the youngest patient to ever be hospitalized in that VA hospital. During his stay, Robert spent time in an iron lung and received massage therapy. A few weeks later, Robert was scheduled for release.

Dorothy, Robert’s mother, was called in for a final consultation with the attending physician. She was told that the polio had started in Robert’s right arm, spread through his entire, tiny body and settled back into his right arm. She was told his arm would never grow to be normal and the bone would always be brittle. From that day forward, she vowed to protect her son as only a mother can. She was told he would always have to wear an arm brace to straighten his bent wrist and protect his arm.

Till he was eight, Robert lived a fairly normal child’s life. He was taught the things most mothers’ teach their children, respect, manners and the difference between right and wrong. He entered first grade at five years old in Louisiana, because he would be six before the end of the calendar year. His first teacher pitied him and didn’t teach him anything. Fortunately, for Robert and the rest of the people he would touch; the family moved to a new home in Lafayette, Louisiana.

Wisdom Borne

May the journey of your being, liven those you touch.
As hope gives meaning to life’s confusion,
Results are seldom seen as desired,
Inspiration is gratefully kept open near a heart,
Elation at travel’s end gives growing solace.

Heroes are rarely known to themselves,
Expectations favor those giving to the bottom.
Nurture the lapping waves of calm seas.
Reaching heights of wisdom borne trees,
Yearning the dreams of futures forgotten.

Steadfast love shoulders debts’ illusion,
Threads of faith exist within the required,
Eluding those who never give a single part
Involving a quiet disparate place
Evokes a thrill sought through much
Remorse of events unable to shelve.

May all rejoice in emotion seek those endless in emitting radiance,
Helping everyone needful resolve young stoicism tales ever including elastic respect.




Copyright © Robert Dodson, 2006 All Rights Reserved.

Remembering

Just a quick little post today. The 5th of May is the 11th anniversary of my dad’s passing into that alternate realm of existence known as death. If you believe in a Higher Power, then it’s not difficult to believe a loved one exists in an unknown realm. How are we to know one way or the other? To my knowledge, there’s only one sure way to find out. Die! But then, I wouldn’t be able to let you know that ‘Heaven’ exists. Such a Catch-22. Similarly, can one truly believe the reported experiences from a near death experience? Given careful consideration, what would be the motive to lie about that adventure?