Poems by Rick Haenel

Imagine

You stroll along in the verdant grass,
as a zephyr drifts a butterfly past.
The clouds float by in an ocean of blue,
they are all part of earth, and they are all part of you.

The day is hot, so you head for the trees,
to cool in the shade, hear the murmur of leaves.
The sun glistens off a gurgeling stream,
when from over head comes a whistling scream!

You see a hawk soaring on high,
you close your eyes and wish you could fly,
but never regret thou art of man,
for you can imagine, as only he can.

For what other creature loves the call of the loon,
aspires toward stars, and walks on the moon!
Sees the mist in the morning lift off the lake,
the geese on the water, the ripples they make?

So seek out lifes beauty, rejoice in it's mirth ...
ashes to ashes, earth to earth...

Sarah's Poem

A man full of fun, a man full of life!
A hell of a man, with a saint for a wife..
for who else could put up with such a boisterous lout,
with-out kicking his butt, and then throwing him out!

This man knows he is lucky, and he tells us so,
when we're off somewhere freezing out deep in the snow....
Wife, job and home, each one of the best,
and the four happy children that help fill that nest.

This man who's been gifted by God up above....
knows he'd be so much less without Sarah's love.

What is Beauty

A yellow moon on a mid-summer night,
The flicker and dance of falls firelight,
A lake that mirrors the stars above...
Ah, more than that, 'tis you my love.

The sun and surf that wash the sand,
The morning fog that veils the land,
The ruby sunlight on the early dew,
Could only be better if seen with you.

Years from now, when you're old and grey,
And mere physical beauty has slipped away,
You'll have a friend who always knew...
That these things and much more are inside of you.

On The Cuff

Nothing ventured, nothing gained,
Past the grief and hurt and pain.
Beyond the sorrow and the fear,
Lies my goal, so bright and clear.

I'm looking for just one girl,
Whom I can include in my world.
Her hair, it could be black or blonde,
She could be voluptuous, or a willow wand,
The only thing I know is true,
This girl I love, will love me too.

And yes; it often makes me grieve,
My heart so naked on my sleeve.
When my love is shunned or spurnt,
Of course I'm sad, of course I'm hurt.

Now remember what I'm telling you,
Nothing is so plain and true,
On these words my life is bet:
"We must give, in order to get."

I give with my heart, as well as my hand,
That does not make me an evil man,
Or anyone's pawn, or anyone's tool,
I am not a joke, I am not a fool.

I have a simple plan of attack;
I only give out what I wish to get back.
Yes, there are those who will take from me,
The treasures I give so easily,
But somewhere out there, in the pack,
Is the one who will take, and also give back.

When I find her I will own the world,
Nothing will replace that girl,
But should time and chance move her along,
I'll pick up my heart and carry on.

I'll dust it off, put it back on my sleeve,
Plain as day for all to see,
Exactly who I really am;
An honest, caring kind of man.

Rita's Poem

Hair black as night, eyes blue as the day,
If she spends the night, would I want her to stay?
If she says goodbye would I feel like I died again?
Well you'll never know unless you try my friend!

Will she break my heart like the last one did?
Will she use me and lose me and be proud of it?
Will she turn on me like the one before....
Well you'll never know unless you try my freind!

'Cause she could be someone who'll make you proud.
You'll want to stand up and say I love you right out loud...
She could be eveything that you need and more...
You could be just what shes's looking for

Maybe she's been out there trying to find a man
Who can give with his heart, and not just his hand...
A man who likes to work as much as play....
Someone to beleive if she hears him say...
"I love you..."
But you'll never know if you lock loves door!

Man of the Woods

Once there was an ugly man,
Who in the woods alone would stand,
And in his loneliness he would cry
As he stood and watched the world go by.

One day, as he stole from tree to tree,
Amongst the shadows where he was hard to see,
There came a cry of a fallen bird,
So weak and faint it could hardly be heard.

So franticaly he searched the brush,
Until he found a tiny thrush.
He picked it up and wiped it dry,
But alas, it could not fly.

Back through the woods, back to his home,
Of earth and wood, with hearth of stone,
He brought the bird for it was ill,
And sat with it by the fire to ease it's chill.

The bird became his only friend,
But to all things must come an end,
For it grew stronger day by day,
'Til eventually it flew away.

He stood at the window and watched it fly,
As a tear drop rolled down from his eye;
"Good luck little bird", he said to himself;
"I wish you long life and the best of health",
He was quite happy for his friend ...
But now he is alone again.

Smile

The road ahead was dark and long,
Down gloomy streets dragging on and on,
Mile after endless mile,
'Til the day the sun rose in a smile.

My father's death was on my mind...
Was no light though the sun did shine,
And birds did float in cool clean air...
A lifeless world, 'til she was there.

Now, though her face I can no longer see,
Her gift of a smile will stay with me,
And I hope that ahead on lifes thorny track...
When she needs it most, I can give it back!

A Light Bulb

A light bulb is a lightbulb....
That's what some people say,
But not if you chose to see it
In a new and different way.

Without it....in the darkness
Your mind sees what it will see...
The things you know are there,
And what you hope or fear may be.

The warm and cheerful greeting
As you finally get back home,
And though the house may be empty,
You still don't feel so alone.

A lightbulb is a lightbulb,
That is true to some degree,
But with anything or anyone,
We see what we wish to see.

The Flower

I spied a flower in a field,
It was happy there and loath to yield,
But it's beauty touched me deep inside,
My desire would not be denied.

That flower from the field of green,
The shining point in that pleasant scene,
The one I'd admired from afar,
Just withered and died in my glass jar.

Yet the oddest thing has come to be,
That flower lives on...inside of me.

I look back, from time to time,
And see that flower in my mind,
But not as it was in my little jar,
But how it dazzled from afar.