Works

Mud
copyright July 3, 2007, Roy Stucky

When you were young
Your head confined
Idea cascade fountains.
A dancing tongue
Creative mind
Could level any mountain.

But that was long ago
When rain produced a bow.
Now the bow's a flood
And the beachfront's turned to mud.

Your views would grow,
Your thoughts were clear,
The future stretched out gleaming.
You had to know,
You stood quite near
The open pool of dreaming.

But that was long ago
When rain produced a bow.
Now the bow's a flood
And the beachfront's turned to mud.

Perhaps the time is too far back -
Perhaps you just forgot.
Perhaps you settled for a plaque -
But some of us have not.

It's time to move to solid ground
Instead of sit and sink.
It's time you turned your face around
And gave us all a wink.