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The mountain of beauty is a sight to behold
It's slender trails and waterfalls
A pure white hawk of immortality
In the echoes it calls
She sleeps in the bosom of nature
Deep crevices that hold the sea
In her arms are the crescent moon
The whispering winds in the tree
Let it be-let it be-can't you see
The untouched beauty of innocent skies
That look upon the meadows below
With graceful virgin eyes
Everything in its own place
Like a child that sleeps in a crib
Listen to the call of the pure white hawk
Taken from the first man's rib
It was meant to stand by his side
Of equal stature and grace
Not below but yet not above
Together in nature's embrace
Standing in the gap as a bridge
That links the world together
Bound unto all upon a great wall
Known as mankind's tether
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
His name is the Boogeyman
who hid in the closet
When I was a boy of age eight
After the lights went out at night
He would stay awake and wait
I pulled up my blanket over my head
But I could hear his heavy breath
My father rescued me many times
From the close calls with Boogeyman death
You couldn't depend on him being in the closet
At times he would be under my bed
Waiting for me to hang my legs down
Past the edge of my bedspread
Sometimes he'd hide in the corner of my room
In the shadow of a tree from outside
Or he might be out in the hallway waiting
Just as had been prophesied
I would tap the end of my bed frame
'til our dog heard my call of distress
Here she would come to my bedside
To relieve me from all of my stress
The Springer Spaniel named Dutchess
She was fearless and vicious and bold
Climb under the covers with me Dutchess
Bite the boogeyman if he comes near us
And chase him out into the cold
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Their visitations upon the earth
This time they come as three
Events that occur in these moments
Are observed by recorders
Taking due notice thereof
In acts; be it hate or love
Time travelers who have no words
Who appear like fire birds
In trails of smoke and white fire
They are as if made out of clay
A mold has been broken
A gesture of a token
Sampling the ways of the people
High do they fly above the steeple
Where lightnings jump from rooftops
Carrying voices in the electric waves
Rising up in rebellion
Defying undug graves
Populations grow and are stacked in a row
Fire consumes the bones and flesh
There is no more room for markers
The names that appear have no meaning
Man is leaning upon man
With no power to raise the dead
Comes the day when all will dread
When the sun turns a blood red
The blind will lead the blind
Into the alleys to grind
Their molars will cease
Their pain will increase
The back doors shall be opened
Unto the streets
When the silver cord shall be loosed
The wheel shall be broken at the cistern
The golden bowl shall be broken
Fear shall be found in the way
Where desire shall be no more
The music shall be low
But yet a single beating heart shall grow
All is not lost but shall be at great cost
The sifting is like sand in the wind
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Not withstanding the change in seasons
Below the surface of soil and dust
Seedlings will bear their selves in spring
Sprouting in nature's trust
Many will germinate becoming tall trees
Others will be fragile flowers
Some as corn which yields in the fields
In the life giving springtime showers
Birds that gather straw for their nests
The dam lays her eggs so gently
They turn within their yolks ever so slightly
As skies watch ever so intently
A songbird sings and calls to its mate
Unaware of its own fate
There is no sense of time-they know not age
Or how to sense a storms pending rage
Exposed to the elements fair they may weather
Until their heart beats no more
Death in their eyes beneath the skies
After the children they have bore
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
I beg of you sir-madam please
I can no longer stand on my feet
My work in the fields of thirty years
Gathering the winter wheat
Just as my mother had done before
Back to the days of the Czar
Her sisters and mother also worked
They drank from the samovar
From tea leaves gathered in early spring
Mint leaves also were kept
I watched my baby brother in his crib
As he peacefully slept
Little did he know that one day would come
When he would learn the total sum
Now I have worked my fingers
Until they can work no more
I beg of you sir-I am no whore
Just enough for some bread with my tea
To get me off of this desolate street
I want to sleep the peaceful sleep
And die in my silent retreat
I will think of my mother and dream of the days
When we worked in the fields of wheat
When my eyes shall close for the final time
I shall refuse my own defeat
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
It's never too late to smell the flowers
Through these tired old eyes
They were planted in spring
At a time with my mother-many years ago
Since that day I have tended
To all their needs and whims
It is the way I connect to mother
As my own sight dims
To close my eyes and imagine
Through the frangrances
That they do bring
Memories of my mother's love
In a long forgotten spring
A ribbon tied into her hair
At her work in the garden
She was like a Shakespearean maiden
In the forest of Arden
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Clicking shoe heels
Upon the cobblestones
Little does the time of day matter
Echoes upon these silent walls
A jumble of senseless clatter
Streams of sunlight-my stomach flutters
She waits for me to quench my fear
Her sweet voice will soon be upon me
Pressing to my ear
Leaping heart deep inside
In this secret I abide
She can not know of it yet
Yea-still though there is no regret
She sees the nakedness of my mind
For I have let her see
Yet there are no words beyond
A certain point where I must flee
Where no one has yet followed
This bramble bush path from whence
My heart shall burn 'til I return
From thickets that are so dense
In places where no other has been
My silence place in retreat
Asleep upon her sweet bosom
Forgetting a past of the bittersweet
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
His name is Oscar
He's a sensitive guy
Sometimes he gets so depressed
He's a one man dog who's really a human
Who gets a little obsessed
I tickle his feet with a twist of paper
He looks at me with eyes so wide
All I have to suggest to him
Is that we go outside
It doesnt take long for him to get ready
Once he gets out he wants in
A few bites of food then off to the bed
And that's all he does from therein
Under the covers he sighs in relief
Waiting for his afternoon nap
Oscar is my little buddy
He is quite an amusing chap
Sometimes he lays on his back with his feet
Sticking straight up in the air
Making a hissing noise like a vacuum cleaner
With a grin on his face that is rare
It's a waiting game until nap time is over
Unless it is time for a treat
Then it's time for some fun until he is done
And he is once again beat
No big deal-its nap time again
Oscar is a guy who is clever
Every day is another adventure
He thinks it will go on forever
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
The lady of concrete waits in the background
Upon her pedestal she patiently waits
Here in the rain's patter I contemplate
In thought of rain that saturates
As often times my walks in storms
Produce patterns that flow in me
Raindrops are like tapping fingers
Making their intervening plea
Like minute voices who say to me
Get your mind on your life
The beat of a heavy marching tune
To the sound of the drum and fife
An airplane soars in clouds above
As I am below in motion of thought
People walk around me and glance
Knowing my mind can't be bought
Go against the flow baby
Rub against the grain
Emerge from the shell that encompases your hell
In this demeaning relentless rain
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Submerged they ride the crest of waves
Doric columns in ruin
His steed of pace in their embrace
In marble their faces hewn
The mermaid grasps her rider
As jackals gasp in awe
The last of its kind that remains standing
Decay begins to gnaw
In days of yore citizens gazed
They sit now to decompose
In a gallop of wild frenzy
A jaded single rose
In the temple of their minds
Entwined in each forever
Amongst the ruins of Doric columns
In their plight to endeavor
The endless journey that goes forward
Into a place called eternal bliss
Two lovers upon their steed in gallop
Kisses upon eachother's cheek
Neither can ever dismiss
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
