Seeds

Thistle seeds, though small
Will provide hungry finches
Their favorite feast

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Memory Photographs Series

Vegas Run

The highway air feels good today
Heat a risin’ like, a mirror

The rattlesnakes, on a low bake
Desert sand, rides on the warm wind

Nature’s soundtrack like bees abuzz
A soothing, hypnotic siren

A mind numbing song, stuck on play
Haunting thoughts, keeping well at bay

Birds of prey, circling the distance
A jackrabbit rattles a bush

The taste, of a cool water drink
Refreshes, my dry whiskey throat

Back astride the motorcycle
Racing, toward the sinking sun

A hot date, with a dark beauty
Restore my, Vegas sanity

Ride, daydreaming of neon lights
Hotel room, champagne hot tub, fate

© Copyrights G. Jones 2007

Author's Note: A View From the Wind Series

If Poetry Were War

If poetry were war
The form would not portray
Rhyme nor reason

The writer is possessed
By a corrupted muse
Who knows no shame

Thirsting for a power
A need to conquer all
Even to death

The loud and ranting words
Lies to achieve an end
Hidden agendas

If poetry were war
The poem would have no end
Just the ever repeating images

Of death and tears

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

Home Sweet Home

A fresh green shine, covers my island home each Spring

An emerald, circled by a sapphire blue sea

Both east and west, guarded by steep snow-capped mountains

This earthly paradise, beneath the lush tall trees

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Memory Photographs Series

Liberty, Hong Kong

The streets of, Hong Kong, are bustling this fine morning
Out for tea, noodles, a tattoo, and lots of beer
Luckily, the ship was put to pier side mooring
Dropping my laundry at, The Fleet, I have light gear

In a café, I sip and slurp, while bird watching
Lines of gorgeous cages, sagging above my head
To, Ricky’s Tattoo, through the human mass swimming
Morn, I awake hung over and bandaged in bed

In the shower, I inspect my new dragon
Below in berthing, I adorn my crackerjacks
Up topside for morning quarterdeck watch, I’m on
Spend my time watching the seagulls hover the stacks

Another great port of call in the China Sea
City of Victoria, a fine place to be

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Author's Note: Sailor's Sonnet Series

Strolling the Bridge

Night in the Persian Gulf can be, very eerie
Steaming along the eastern coast, the bizarre sights
Tall flaming spires from ghostly oil fields, so fiery
It's as if I sail the shores of hell on these nights

The seas part before me in phosphorescent curl
Menacing gun boats prowl the watery darkness
In the masts, shifting albatross silently whirl
Strolling the bridge, coffee cup for my alertness

My mind occupied by my dear wife and our home
Counting the days until I return to her smile
My searching eyes spot a light in the ocean foam
I raise my glasses and judge its distance, a mile

I report the unknown contact down to combat
Thoughts return to her, and the beach, where we sat

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Author's Note: Sailor's Sonnet Series

Cooing Spring

Lovely cooing doves
Is a sweet reminder of
The approaching spring

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Author's Note: The Memory Photographs Series