I can fine tune your troubles

so they fall into harmony

and gently touch your frets,

washing slowly away

in soft melodic wisps.

I can use Am-F-C-G

to lift you out of doldrums

or

Em-D-C-G-G/F#

to calmly and carefully caress

perfectly paced intervals.

I can capo your resonant tone

to bring another dimension

to what seems lackluster depth.

Place yourself in my hands.

R. Gerry Fabian

(Image by DWB, of an improvisational instrument)

A deceptive full moon lures

an awakening of aspirations.

I react with alarm only to be disarmed

by this renewal of affection.

There is a genuine glow

that obscures the superficial.

The night air is as warm and sweet

as gentle entangled embraces.

Even the fireflies flash

well past deep darkness.

R. Gerry Fabian

(Image by DWB)

(Today we welcome back poet R. Gerry Fabian, with three works running today through Wednesday)

The sunlight comes through

the bedroom windows

at different angles lately.

In the back of the brown yard,

snowdrops show white flowers

while the wood pile is barely hanging on.

Up against the weathered barn

rest various sets of skis

that haven’t been used in weeks.

Somewhere in the house,

a woman’s voice is humming a song

about flowers and young lovers.

Spring’s a long time coming

around here.

R. Gerry Fabian

(Image by DWB)