Charles J. Ingerson

WITHIN THE WINDOWS

(Prelude:

Shades are drawn
though there’s no sun
far removed the dawn
the day quite done.

Glass broken shard
sand wetted by oceans
found the coral hard
darkly hidden the palms.

No grandeur thoughts
simple clarion concise
where on zephyrs taunts
within the windows prize.)

Those of Us

Clannish and ingrained
standing to recite
yet caution refrained
wonderingly to incite.

Words spill on paper
finely blotted ink
used as the wrapper
with garbage to sink.

Immoral and decayed
imprisoned and lost
those of us belayed
writing our life’s cost.

Who Write

Definition of thought
displayed in grammar
pain and grief taught
rhetorically a hammer.

Some beliefs shared
some truths shown
some history bared
some seeds sown.

Each different goals
each curious birth
each within souls
some without mirth.

Who write today
proving one to tell
understanding to play
in silence to impel.

Within the Windows

Our minds circumvent
issues without views
seeking the investment
to color with hues.

Hidden agenda’s sought
within the windows open
wishful not to be caught
by the writer’s hard pen.

Weaving careful webs
hearing moving calls
oft where the tide ebbs
and the torrent falls.

Washed from the beach
carried far to the sea
clinging unlike the leech
wanting to be free.

Man’s inner-thoughts
guile with mean intent
foolish memory wroughts
cautions never to invent.

Hallowed the ground
sometimes found deep
soldiers lost abound
orphans homeless weep.

Bloody the fields left
wounded crops of youth
the winds swirl deft
eluding the sleuth.

Within the windows flow
air pure and clean some
other stained to grow
in horror yet to come.

Often Shrouded

None invited within
none to see the dark
none to know sin
none in nakedness stark.

Often shrouded closed
death lingers there
freedom entrapped opposed
nothing of light to share.

As the World’s

Found in earth and sea
found in rocks and stone
found in dirt and clay
found with or all alone.

Buried in time and taste
embedded into the fiber
carried in rivers of waste
as the world’s reminder.

Rusted and decayed
things that used to play
only as antiques stayed
useless now in decay.

We Know

Windows opens to see
how we will fair today
remaining forever free
or in bondage to stay.

Windows darkens in time
bearing the weight and pain
carrying tears of awful crime
and the smoke to stain.

Windows allowed to break
allowing the nights chill
and in disease to awake
the world to often fill.

Windows again quite clear
washed and cared today
when love is found near
and small children play.

We Share

Emotions loosely sewn
embroidered with ink
flags of nations flown
humanities single link.

Majestic visions warm
colors of images few
sunrises of pure alarm
depressions hard to view.

Hearings givens in prose
sentences alive in verse
words varied to pose
thoughts seldom to rehearse.

(Epilogue:

Shades are drawn
though there’s no sun
far removed the dawn
the day quite done.

Weaved words written
sleep upon the shelves
only by bugs smitten
as the dust-mites elves.

Glass broken shard
sand wetted by oceans
found the coral hard
darkly hidden the palms.

Paper-thin and sharp
translucently added value
shaped as nature’s scarp
holding memories preview.

No grandeur thoughts
simple clarion concise
where on zephyrs taunts
within the windows prize.

Sadly often all alone
wonder and ponder lost
in the mind’s soft home
within the windows frost.)