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nVig2o2

If there’s no God, I die, my atoms disappear
Like bubbles blown and frantic to escape their ring.
Wind takes them by the hand – “Let’s run away from here!
Let’s go somewhere and find another song to sing!” 

And when I’m gone, perhaps my poems will linger on;
My children with their children and then theirs – a chain;
Or some good deed will swim within my wake – a swan,
Until the sun grows old, expands, and naught remains. 

If there’s no God, I live my life upon the sand.
I leave my print; I have a heavy present weight.
And I reflect upon my life and think it’s grand.
But when I die, it’s like I never left the gate. 

If there’s no God, then soon or late there is no me.
The sand along my beach is smoothed, impression free.

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photo by marmit at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nVig2o2/Follow+my+steps+2

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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milkay4

(sent in Christmas cards 2015)

The colors red and green, those two,
Are Christmas colors, yuletide’s cue,
As though its season after fall
Invites us to another ball.

Green is the holly; green the tree,
And green some stockings that we see.
Green is the mistletoe we hang;
From which some Christmas kissing sprang.

Red are the balls upon the tree;
Red are some stockings filled with glee.
Red’s Santa in his jolly suit,
Until he slides down chimney’s chute.

When put together, red and green,
Have one important thing they mean:
A treasure stored up in the heart
That one adds to, but will not part.

We often dream of one more hue
A blanket thicker than the dew –
A coat of snow that covers all,
A Christmas white that will enthrall.

But topped or not with whipping cream,
Our faces fill with Christmas gleam.
It leaves for us a colored print
Of just how much the season meant.

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photo by Michael Pohl at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mILkay4/Christmas+Bubbles

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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