... of spring season beauty of spring season beauty of spring season

Not sure how many chances each of us gets at love and happiness.  Probably only once.  But when it comes to you, you better seize it and not let it pass by.  Before it’s forever out of reach and it’s too late.

Patrick The Poet


Among life’s desperate whims and paltry schemes
Or where passionate dreamers dream deathless dreams,
There is only one springtime of hope and love
And one chance at life to soar the stars above!

And while there are many who struggle and try
Never to see their chance at life pass them by,
There are few who ever soar the stars above
And live to find their springtime of hope and love.

For only once do the stars gleam and birds sing.
Only once is there ever a special spring!
Stronger than desperate whims and paltry schemes
Or passionate dreamers who dream deathless dreams!

So life carries on, and time is on the wing;
And though death must surely come to everything,
There is only one springtime that passes by,
And some dream of love dying to tell you why.



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Sometimes this is what becomes of a life and of one’s dreams and love.

Patrick The Poet


Oh, once upon a day I used to believe in love.
In all the stars in heaven, and in heaven above.
That you would always love me and would forever stay.
(Till that day when love disowned me…when you went away.)
For once upon a day I had hoped for happiness.
That all the world and this were found in a lover’s kiss!
And thought you would live even after the end of time
(Till I wrote you a verse in a dirge that didn’t rhyme!)
It rhymes here, my love!–But it is a desolate one.
And as dark as the night when darkness shuts out the sun.
Still, I believed in sunlight, and in love, and in God
(And once upon a day by all these was stirred and awed!)
Till love came and vanished, and let darkness have its way.
And the truth spoke but lied, then had nothing more to say!
Then all my beliefs and all my hopes were tossed away.
(When your dirgeful life died, my love…once upon a day.)


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The time will probably come when you’re about to lose a family member or someone you love.  It’s especially painful if they are young and it’s way before their time.  The injustice of it can be overwhelming.  So can the shock and unpreparedness of it.  And it may be that you will try everything to save that person.  Then realize there’s nothing you can do but pray.  This is what happened to me once some years ago.  And this poem is the conclusion about it that I came up with and wrote.

Patrick The Poet



So wild and dark tonight, and the winds hiss and curse
Such poignant refrains in me…begging creation.
But if I am to soothe your heart with a single verse…
I fear it will require divine inspiration.

Worse still, your life has fallen to diminished thirds
And to silencing strains of your own invention.
Still, though I would save you if I could with mere words…
I fear it will require divine intervention.


THE LOVER'S GRAVEI sometimes like to write what I call philosophical love poems wherein the various situations and meanings of love are explored and poetically defined.  Here is one of those philosophical love poems whose antecedent about love is way more important than the consequence of death.

Patrick The Poet


I know the pain of lonely lovers and the grief they grieve.
And see their tears at graveside where they stand all dressed in black.
For I can hear the words they prayed, “Dearest don’t leave, don’t leave!”
And then feel the despair they bear, “Lover, come back, come back!”

Too many gravesides come late in life, and I hate them all!
But they teach us religion and show us reality.
Then when I feel my own and not a stranger’s teardrops fall,
I know now why others have cried, “Wait for me, wait for me!”

This is how it is–and you better learn it soon and fast!
When you prepare for death, life is easier to survive.
Meanwhile, relish the moment and cherish the happy past.
Be brave at graveside…for no one gets out of life alive.

Sacred Treasure

On this date exactly eight years ago I lost my sacred treasure.  And she was the most sacred of life’s treasures that God gives to man.  And time is a strange commodity: for the years can sometimes seem like days, and eight years but eight hours ago.  The fraility and preciousness of life is something we all often take for granted.  So for a long time now I frequently advise people not to do this and to cherish every blessing and every treasure they have in life.  In any event, this and related topics are things I often write about in verse.  When I lost my scared treasure I was forced to write several incisive poems, and this one here is a major opus from among them. 

But it’s just a poem and an opinion expressed in verse, and not something anyone has to take to heart.  Still, I haven’t seen or experienced anything to change my philosophical view and the opinion I expressed in this poem.  Like a favorite Jackson Browne song, I guess I’m a holdout for such a change to someday come.  If or when it ever does, I’ll make sure to let everyone know!



When I was a child I watched the world hurrying about,
And sometimes wondered what was all the worrying about?
What for all the hustle and bustle and desperate need
That kept everyone running everywhere at mindless speed?
What was the gem that made everyone dying to find it
Which somehow always left everyone one step behind it?

I knew soon enough a few years later (though still a youth!)
What they sought and would always be the most sought-after truth;
One day when I found myself strangely searching for it too
(Ah, in every place I went and on every face I knew!)
That my life too would be forever committed to this…
Elusive heaven…some sunken treasure…a lover’s kiss!

And so, I went about my life while learning to survive,
But still I waited for the Sacred Treasure to arrive.
Often I sought it in the places where I labored and toiled;
Sometimes in the heart of beauty, whose heart was cold and spoiled.
Or even within the corridors of power and fame
Till I saw in their eyes the Treasure had given no claim!

So I spent years gazing upon the lifetimes of some few
Who would boast they had found it–to learn if one claim was true!
And though their words were tinged with joy, and their faces would smile,
I knew the treasure they had found would only last a while.
And that the Sacred Treasure–if it did really exist–
Was as temporary as a frail, early-morning mist!

And though the “while” was a sweet and beautiful and great thing,
It was doomed to always be a brief and found-too-late thing!
Still, I looked among lovers and children and families
Thinking (but just a while!) that I would see what true love sees!
And the Sacred Treasure would come and rescue my sad life
Then finally end the travails of my unending strife!

But no, the pain was not to end! the joy was not to be!
Every well-sought life is met with darkness and tragedy!
For some it comes in a friend or loved-one’s sudden last breath.
For others it is the unforeseen, unexpected death
Of any gist of success you had ever dreamt or planned
Suddenly lost…or taken from you…by some unseen hand.

Then I would visit any pertinent temple and church
And even for a while…thought now that I could end my search,
Only to find that all my hopeless life would ever find
Was some dubious taste of faith and mindless peace of mind!
Whose prayers for deathless life made this one less painful to feel
So some can give up the search and swear the waste is not real!

No matter, one disconcerting day…not so long ago
I finally caught the Specter (oh…little did I know!)–
Fame and fortune were mine! Success had come to me at last!
By God! I had even grasped true love from the dark, cold past!)
Then I woke up one next day from my placid, giddy bed…
To find my success gone bankrupt…and my true love was dead!

Though now I hear the beauty of immense music and song
And can feel the grace of the stars in heaven sing along,
(Along with all the wonder and splendor upon this earth!)–
The presence of truth and goodness, the miracle of birth,
The thrill of great events, the rewards of brave endeavor,
Are all meaningless to me…and will be so forever!

The Sacred Treasure does not live and is not meant to be!
(So life is hapless! And freedom is wasted on the free!)
The Sacred Treasure does not live–and we are blind to see
That the purpose of the journey…is only the journey.

And though I would gaze through the eyes of a desolate child
Hoping yet to find one soul upon whom the angels had smiled,
That it could be mine till the day old age would see me die
(Before I curse for the last time the dreaded word “goodbye!”)
I would keep to the baseless search for the Sacred Treasure
Blessed by what I may find from brief joy and fleeting pleasure.
But no! I must tell the searching world…and with little cheer…
If you’re looking for happiness…ah, don’t look for it here.