On A Winter Afternoon

A gray mare standing beside
The snow covered wooden fence.
The fence along a country road
Icy and well traveled.

Cars and trucks passing by;
Few noticing the gray mare
Breathing hot fog
From her nostrils.

The gray mare noticing all
Passing by, the wind in her hair,
Ruffling her mane. Patiently,
Standing by the snow covered
Wooden gate.

Awaiting her masters return
From work to bring her safely
Across the country road
To her home, the red barn,

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poem by Joe Wocoski
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On Catching the Summer Breeze

A deep blue sky with light wisps of clouds,
A sail raised high up on the mast,
The rush of water along port side,
Skimming across the lake in your sailboat.

A sail raised high to catch the wind,
The breeze dies down, then becalmed.
Rustling of the sail begins,
The wind returns again.

Learn to duck, and not rock the boat.
Be careful, sometimes you fall in.
Listen and learn from those who know
For they fell in too, so long ago.

Over, and over, and over again,
Until you have mastered the art of the sail.

poem by Joe Wocoski
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Snowed In By A Warm Fire

A visit to an Inn on top of a hill.
A view, a valley, a village, a pond.
Snow already covering the ground.
Snow falling steadily all around.

The hills, the trees, the branches,
The drives, the roads, the highways.
All are covered in new fallen snow.
All are silent as the snow falls.

Snowflakes large, silent, slowly falling.
Snowflakes drifting, covering the ground.
Snow falling steadily through the day;
Snow falling steadily through the night.

Soon ankle deep, then up to your knees;
Soon three feet covers all there is.
Snowed in. The highways are closed.
Snowed in, as I wait by the warm fire.

poem by Joe Wocoski
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Snow Dancing

Frozen ground, frozen ponds,
Overgrown fields awaiting spring.
Snow dancing across the roads,
Snow too cold to melt
when it hits the ground.

To light to stay down,
blowing every which way.
Cars pass by disturbing the air
making the snow dance
on swirling currents of air.

Swirling up, down, all around,
spinning, wildly, round and round,
trying to get to the ground.
Almost bare roads covered
with swirls of snow.

Everywhere the flowing snow.
No cars pass by. Now, only the wind.

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poem by Joe Wocoski
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The Single Tear Drop of Peace

The Single Tear Drop of Peace

What if all the tear drops, of all the world,
Were added together for only one year?

Peace would spread near and far
With every rainstorm everywhere.

We would have a river of peace,
A pool of tranquility across all oceans.

All seashores would rest in silent prayer
From those whose tears washed hatred away.

All death and destruction would vanish from here
With each and every tear dropp this day.

No more would we kill each other.
No more would we hurt our brother.

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poem by Joe Wocoski
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Our Seasons of Ardent Love

Our seasons of ardent love brings forth all our desire,
Throughout our lives, we live on a loving enchanted isle.
Far beyond, long, amorous nights with our souls set afire,
We bonded as one, remaining forever, for it is our style.

From our first chance meeting to the lives we are sharing,
We have been as one united with each other, inseparably.
We love each other for who we are, and all we are baring,
Not by any wealth can we tithe our love incomparably.

Our love can not be doled out, as money is for a favor,
Nor can our love be judged by where, or how we reside.
Our love for each other is truly the only love we savor,
For our love comes from the depths of our hearts, inside.

We are not just empty shells pretending to be unspoiled,
We are both halves of a love united, and totally fulfilled.

poem by Joe Wocoski
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December Love

With a feeling of joy and happiness December entrances,
Filling us with warm love during days forever contracting.
As the month shortens we embrace as our love enhances,
Awaiting the celebration of our sacred love, consecrating.

Looking through our child's eyes this time of year enchants,
Seeking out the brightly colored lights blinding all our passion.
Dazzled by draped, sparkling lights on most barren branches,
Leaving behind all other thoughts as if they are out of fashion.

Our sacred search for the one icon or symbol of atonement,
All this searching leads up to a single night, symbolic of our life.
A single symbol of our love causes us such great torment,
For this one moment we love all others without fearful strife.

We know deep in our hearts love needs no such adornment,
We search on; forgetting love is the perfect gift resplendent.

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poem by Joe Wocoski
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