Far, far, from the shore I drift; amid waves both wild and dark,
at crest I see the lights afar, tween they and I a life apart.
I know that I can only swim a fraction of the sea ahead,
and know that in the absence of some miracle I’ll soon be dead.
Floating in the shallow bay, I rode the early swells of morn
and felt at peace with God and man; in natures womb safe, reborn.
The sun lay soft upon my face and warmed me thru as did the sea
as gulls and frigates flew above, all the world was one with me.
But somewhere, somehow, I drifted out past the shelter of the bay
and soon realized the span between myself and where the shoreline lay.
Had someone called my name; had friends waved arms and wept?
No matter now, be truth the worst, I view it all from where I’m swept.
Did I tempt fate through self assurance, or did I create my own
a question now rhetorical; the relevance of options gone.
What led my life to this upheaval, what destiny or dark moon tide
that yield me now so small and helpless, void of hope, stripped of pride.
I merely float now, struggle spent, I sense I’ll not be safe again
and will reflect till this is done, my trite response to others pain.
Seeing others swept away; never gave me thought or pause
till far from shore I find I’ve drifted, in retrospect a drowning flaw.
jack Scruffy Ainsworth
3/4/15
The Coffee Shop
Chocolate ice cream seemingly slathered from restless childrens chin to eye,
Cookies crumbled helter skelter ; most upon the floor beside.
Laughter, squeals tattle telling the little ones play their made up games
while faux stern adults beg their quiet, it all continues just the same.
Ladies talk of myriad topics, their lives, their dreams, their men, their truths
while the men just nod and drink their coffee; quip about the ladies views.
All the questions of the world are typically the daily fare
and lives are lived among close friends, from smile to tear all are shared
How sad that there are those alone, no laughter heard no solace claimed
that have no place to share their story, their lone hearts burdened and restrained
How fortunate the hearts that bond collective at the evenings close ,
feeling, feeding on life shared; through common cause all made whole.
Each person there a puzzle piece, without whom pictures fall undone,
all integral to that seized moment, all components meld as one.
And as the evening comes to close, and each soul rises homeward bound
there’s closure to the daily woes and order is restored somehow.
Jack Scruffy Ainsworth
3/3/15
3/3/15 Untitled
Hear ye; hear ye; nevermind.
What mattered then is lost in time.
Pontifications, pompous lines
meaningless one breath behind.
Moments, shared in peace and still,
count for more than rhetoric will.
Bellicose and brash barked words
will be forgotten as if unheard.
So let us now pause this soft gaze
drink from this chalice of memories made.
I will not speak now nor need you
as words could only stain this truth.