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Emily's Hymn

6/7/2018

By Bob Dougherty

I'm a guest in Emily’s house
I hear a haunting hymn
a door appears and opens wide
large chamber with lights dim

old organ plays a peaceful tune
the hymn Amazing Grace
from open sky a flame descends
all candles burn in place

I watch as I begin to feel
thoughts flow and more are mine
the flame ascends and leans the sun
then candles cold still shine

now every time I hear the tune
the organ played that day
I know thoughts purified with song
can live past mortal way

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My Pen

6/2/2018

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by Bob Dougherty

Compelled to tell of my life so unfair,
mangled by memories my pen I’d grab
and into my harrowed heart deeply stab.
A pen can drain pain raining feigned despair
and smear teary blood blots for all to share
weeping woeful words of my life so drab.
Yet, why plunge a pen through a crusty scab,
when all wear wounds of their own craving care?

I'll caress my pen with my mind and heart
and its ink, like blood will bear words alive.
My fate is mortal, my pen transcends time
and freed from my grasp my thoughts will impart
beyond mortal limits where they can thrive
speaking to searchers seeking lines sublime.

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Emily's Hymn

My Pen

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