Moon Light Ride

The brown tipped grass peeked through the snow -
With stems quite cold and forlorn.
The north gale came and so winds did blow
and nodded their heads in form.

As for I, a moonlit ride -
on my horse, steady and slow.
With her cold and shivering skin below -
I said “Not much further to go.”

She low’r’d her head, and back again,
to ring her bridle bell.
As if to say “Why dear friend,
did you put us in winter’s hell?”

“Well, ol’ nag, it’s like this, you see…
for forty nights I’ve been alone.
And down the creekbed lives Miss Weatherby,
and I’d like to kiss her some.”

Just on que the old nag said squarely,
“Twenty miles in a blizzard storm?
To get something that finds you rarely
when beautiful weather’s the norm?”

“Just my luck,” I said with disdain,
“To have such a cyncical horse.”
But wondered if I could be insane,
for talking to a horse of course!

Naw, no, I should ever think not.
For my ears wouldn’t give such slack.
For if I were insane,
…..I think it would be plain,
That my horse wouldn’t answer back.

“I’ll ask you to quiet down, Nellie,
because we’re almost there.
Miss Weatherby’s a cheeky sort,
who’ll spook and run on a scare.”

Nellie laughed and said with a thrill -
“So you think I’d be the source?
Well, my friend, better check again.
You’re the one talking to a horse.”

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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Frosty Muse

I often felt that Robert Frost -
was in my own inflamed heart -
For when all else seemed harringly lost -
my pen had no trouble to start…

And when I oft did wonder aloud
if his spirit was slinking around -
the words simply came – proper and proud
as if he were I –  pound for pound.

And thought I should test this wise -
to prove it bullduggery or not…
I sat at a table three times the size
with nere miniature pen to blot!

And what upon my parchment wrought -
these magical words appeared -
“’tis just you, you flaming idiot!”
and to myself I’ve come so endeared…
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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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The Night Santa Came

From under the covers,  anxious eyes glowing -
so excited with joy, an eager smile showing -

I could see through the glare of moonlit frost,
brother’s eyes so wide as he turned and tossed.

Though our room had been so far from the tree -
it’s sweet aroma still came to me.

Heard through the quiet – father and mum
saying something or something, my ears clearly numb.

Father went “arumph! Gaul dabbity doo!”
Mum went “shussssshhhhh! You farbity poo!”

Just then big brother quietly whispered to me -
“What is it, dear Johnny, you’re wishing to see?”

“Why certainly brother only Santa will do -
or perhaps his sleigh and eight reindeer for you….”

“Quiet in there” as the very walls did shake -
Proving that our father was indeed still awake.

Our plan had been hatched to stay up late
and catch Santa come through the fireplace grate.

We thought if we found him this snowy night
we’d give Santa a hug so bold and so tight.

And if we could catch him – we could finally see
If Santa indeed smelled like a chocolate mint tree.

And just to look up and see his fat rosy cheeks -
pinch them for luck and too if they squeaked.

I’d ask him to share his cookies with me,
Which mum so nicely laid under the tree.

We would sit and talk the whole night through,
of elves, and toys, and Mrs. Claus too.

We would dance and laugh and throw presents askew
while brother fed Rudolph and the rest of his crew.

I could sit in his lap and tell stories of old
and he would laugh and laugh and say “Ho Ho Ho!”

And I could tell Santa if my wish could come true
t’would be we could visit each day the year through.

Oh, what wondrous things were done
On the night that Santa did come.

He helped me throw tinsel all over the tree,
Then straightened the Angel as much as could be.

He twinkled his nose and the stockings then flew -
nearer to his bag where they all withdrew -

Chocolates of color, so brown and so white,
Caramels and taffies of such great delight!

And out from the bag came a tiny little elf
who looked surprised when he saw myself.

“Jonas, my friend, what are you doing in there?”
Santa asked, while scratching his white hair.

“I must have fallen asleep during the push,
while we were working that last minute rush.”

Santa laughed with a roar and so horribly loud,
I feared it would wake Dad and bring him down.

Jonas was laughing and rolling on the ground
the stockings were swirling the ceiling with sound.

Santa twinkled his nose and lit the tree,
The tinsel was waving as though windy.

“Rudolph, my boy, are you warm enough?”
Then a scratch on the roof and a faint “huff, huff.”

Oh, the dear sweet fun we had!
When Santa’s around I’m ever so glad!

Then Santa leaned down to look in my eyes,
“It was good to see you but now I must fly.
And I’ll see you again before much time goes by…
Remember Johnny never to lie,
and always look for me in the sky!”

“But don’t go Santa – we can sing a song” -
When just then came little sister along.

“Wake up, Brother John, Santa’s come and gone.”
realizing just then I’d been asleep all along ….

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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It Could Have Been

An afterthought occurs only when
something else could have been.

It doesn’t matter if yours or mine
as each shall follow us through time

Would you lament of something you did?
Or of something you didn’t do?
In any event the moment’s spent
and judgement lays upon you.

As the clock ticks round and round -
and earth opens her shameful ground
for our bodies to lay ’til judgement day -
and afterthoughts shower us – as rain in May
to leave us there – within lonely despair
to wonder of things that could have been.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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Poème Fin Comple

A poem will end when a poem will end,
not a moment before or aft.
When a reader has fun, or has just begun
to explode his belly with laughs.

If the subject be love, or white frilly doves,
then end with a heart on a stick.
While painted clowns and western ghost towns
should end with a frightful lick.

A walk through a park or moonlit dark
should end with an “ooo” or “ah”
While Christmas tales or Christmas sales
might end with a “boo” or “bah!”

Poems of rabbits or squeaky new gadgets
could end in many a way.
But the foot of a rabbit can be its own gadget
when put in the pocket to play.
So sad to see, that three legged he
as he barely hops away.

My favorite end is when he comes again
to offer his life to me.
For in the long run – the rabbit is done
and his life full of misery.

Acquiescence, dear friend, is the very best end
when the rabbits do come to thee.
So cut off their feet, and be quite complete
for the very best fin complet……

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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My Other – Lost in Thorns

Of such lonely night
with half moon bright
Nere any star light
across Heaven’s might…

Finds I, amidst the thorns
of this life, so adorned
with jackals and mysteries
brought near by night thieves
and murderous throes – of those
beyond God’s light of day.

Hither dear,
let your mind clear
and join my solemn here
for all eternity’s stay.

And we shall lite above
and listen to the angel’s praise
while those abhorring that of love
shall spend their last in earthen days.

The earth, the earth, her mystic ways
and devil’s frowns do scorch her time -
and those within who live the fray
who with common hatred lay
her boundaries – of death decay.

For only death can release those earthen souls -
Who sup upon their earthen doles….
and play their impish roles -
and never even know.

Oh darling, dear other part of me,
Look your sky to find my heart,
amidst the vastness of honesty.

Even Sodom should never fall -
least one man true and tall.
And as I am, so must you be -
Darling, search my hand for eternity.
As I will search for yours….

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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A Lovely Night

I like those curvy legs girl
I like the way your smile curls
I want to slip up next to you
and make ah sweet love

I know you feel the same way
you look at me every single day
I’m just a waiting for you to say
you want ah make ah sweet love.

When you look into my eyes
it’s like I look into the skies
and what I want to do with you
is gonna be ah real nice…

I’m gonna take your lovely hand
we’re gonna walk into the sand
I’m gonna lay your body down
it’s gonna be ah real nice.

I’m gonna whisper in your ear
how your body makes my body feel
then you’re gonna let my body hear
how you want ah make ah sweet love…

Then we’re gonna twist it all around
you’re gonna moan and make those sounds
that make’s my body feel so good.
It’s ah feeling so good.

Then we’re gonna walk down to the bar
and tell everyone who’s there
It’s such a lovely night tonight
and it feels so good.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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