One Hundred Ripples
One hundred ripples I mark today
One hundred steps along my way
One hundred steps lead to the pond
One hundred trees there do surround
One hundred birds nesting among the trees
One hundred bees filling the air with these
One hundred bees buzzing about in the air
One hundred flowers are pollinating there
One hundred flowers provide the aromas sweet
For one hundred bouquets given to lovers as treat
One hundred lovers walk the winding pathway
One hundred times to find romance there each day
One hundred times they will reach to explore
One hundred pebbles found along the pond shore
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poem by Mary Havran
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What Color is Love?
From practical perspective
Love may be viewed as colorless
When romantically reflective
Color spectrum Love does possess
To couples just discovering it’s laurels
Love is yellow like the sun shining bright
To lovers who have engaged in quarrels
Love is deep blue like a sky late at night
In eyes of lovers enjoying honeymoon precursories
Love appears red as hearts gracing valentines
To lovers working together to overcome life’s adversities
Love holds evergreen hues like cypress and pines
For lovers celebrating wedding anniversaries
Love glows gold in rings where diamond luster shines
Love can be soft and swirling
As on paisley patterned gowns
Or calliope colors twirling
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poem by Mary Havran
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Garden of Choice
Two in the Garden of Eden
who had everything to lose
the bounty of all creation
save one fruit forbidden to choose
Their fates, and our fate as well,
were resting in their own hand
in what splendor would we dwell
had they honored that sole command
Two in the Garden of Eden
each charged with that sacred choice
Either one could have chosen
to disregard the serpent's voice
Yet one, then the other, failed
abdicating Eden for one bite
their naked wickedness unveiled
lost forever Garden's delight
Two in the Garden of Eden
did they think but once or twice
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poem by Mary Havran
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Wise Men Still Find Him
Though He of course was there
They did not see Him at the mall
They did not find him at the big box stores
At least, not as they recall
The discount store was too crowded to search
Though He walked its aisles as well
The Hallmark store was a madhouse today
If He was there, they could not tell
They did not see Him standing outside
Though it was He who rung the bell
They thought they caught a glimpse of Him
When a stranger wished them well
At the restaurant with all tables full
They did not see Him among that crowd
Though many holiday parties they attend
His soft voice was lost among the loud
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poem by Mary Havran
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Envy Exposed
Green with Envy does not describe
The color worn by this foul Sin
For green is the color of living things
An Envious Heart has no life therein
The color Blue for Envy will not do
Blue is the sky where freedom sings
In skies so many dreams take flight
An Envious Heart has no wings
Envy cannot dress in Yellow or Gold
The warm colors of the life giving Sun
An Envious Heart is so bitterly cold
With no joie de vivre for all of life’s fun
Envy dare not wear any shade of Red
A color so linked to precious bloodshed
Blood is sacred not to be wantonly shed
An Envious Heart would bleed others till dead
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poem by Mary Havran
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Apology for Empathy
How shall I apologize for such, my indiscretions?
Overwhelmed as I often find myself
accomplice to my imperfections
Yes, I confess
my tendency to leap before I look
and nonetheless
with indifference
some hasty bounds I took
I am at times a willing slave
to my own emotions (cruel masters, some profess)
Jumping to such commands as these gave
heedless of consequence recklessness draws thence
Shall I protest, pleading some innocence
owing to personal failing
or being raised by chance
subject to humanity's entrance
prone to incense at others’ misfortunate wailing
Though advised to place restrain
on my affinity for the underling
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poem by Mary Havran
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Sunrise at Skellig Michael
Night’s paling azurite horizon
cloaked in a gossamer veil of clouds
briefly contests the sunrise
thus allowing nights last stars
some fickle final twinkling
before dwindling from sight
But the Sun has promises to keep
a rendezvous with day
already marked as tardy
by screeching of gulls and gannets
which orchestrate impatient puffin jigs
Sunbeams breach the clouds
gathering strength on far horizon
they surf the ridges of distant waves
gilding each crest in turn
in the race to meet the shore
Light pools around Skellig Michael
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poem by Mary Havran
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Observer’s Dilemma
How can I send you the answer
when you do not acknowledge the quest?
How can I help you decipher
what you don’t even consider a test?
I may hold the key to your future
which you might have to deal with at last
We may both share in tomorrow’s treasure
which remains locked now in yesterday’s past
Should I pose the impending question,
would you then exhibit concern?
Should I challenge all that you think you know,
would you then be willing to learn?
You might think the prospect disturbing
You may feel you’d rather not know
We may find more peace in the future
If we could first put to rest long ago
What would you give for a promise
that all you now wish for could be?
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poem by Mary Havran
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As 42 Is the Answer to Everything (revised)
Might I interest you
in a poem of 42
where the answer to everything may be found
There color can be heard
And number is the word
exceeding every expectation ere earthbound
Might I share with you
a secret you once knew
though you left it in the backyard of your youth
when regrets arrived there never
and tomorrows stretched on forever
where only hopes and wishes spoke the truth
Should this proposal you avow
your mind may then allow
suspending laws of both time and space
Beyond boundaries of science
perhaps you’ll learn reliance
on a power that proceeds from inner place
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poem by Mary Havran
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Fire On the Ridge
In the west there is fearsome fire in the hills.
Full of dread, the people watch as flames burn upon the ridge.
Fierce winds fan the fury where the fires singe.
Meanwhile there’s hot air blasting forth from high upon the hill,
Pointless wind aimed at stirring some futile acts of men.
Strong winds fan the flames.
Embers ignite the blaze again.
While homes are lost across the land,
A burning night gives way to the dawn of restless men.
Rhetoric fails to charm while flames move across the land.
Fires burn readily across dry mountaintops.
Drought’s danger seeps down the slopes.
Now the valley too is brown and the pastures parched.
Wherever stray embers fall, fires will catch and burn
Until nowhere can they be stopped.
Will anything escape the flames fanned by these raging relentless winds?
The firemen grow weary,
They know neither sleep nor rest.
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poem by Mary Havran
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