Wednesday, December 30, 2009

For Ed Girard

Align Center
In order for the male of our specie to mature
We need role models
Ed was such an exemplar

He showed what it means
To be a man of quiet dignity
Soft of speech, quick of wit
He showed how to use wry humor
To get a point across

Recently I spoke to him
Of a situation I had
A character defect
Which rose to the occasion

After listening, he said,
"The bomb is still there,
But the fuse is longer"
How apt and prescient he was

They’re going to enjoy you in heaven, Ed
Like we did on Earth

Fare thee well
You made an impression
On all you touched

Ron Eklof 2009


Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Blue Skies

Some would have nothing but blue skies from now on
Clear as far as the eye can see
With nothing to cloud vision
No blips on their radar

Yet, for me, some clouds now and then are welcome
Something in the sky for the sun to hide behind
To shade me from its fiery flames
To make a difference

For the sky is a white canvas
With blue paint from horizon to the corners
Minimalist art for nouveau galleries
But nothing to write home about

Show me clouds for morning light to color
Soft pinks among the somber grey
Thence turning to bright white puffs
Contrasting with the blue

Delight me with a parade of fulminating clouds
Marching to the whims of the winds
Through which rays of sunlight stream
To touch the ground, pooling light amid the shade

More clouds at the fade of sun
With brilliant hues to astonish my eyes
Edge the purple with gold
That make me turn round and gaze the far horizon

Give me pulsating rhythms to silence the white noise in my ears
Give me the taste of hot and cold, sweet and sour, crunchy and smooth
Allow the scent of jasmine in the cool of dawn
Let me feel the curve that bends the straight

Give me the spontaneous at any time of day
Give me more than just blue skies all day long

Ron Eklof 2009

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Snapshots 1


On a warm September morning
Windows and doors wide open
A zephyr pushes its way
Through my home
These thoughts pause
As my skin wakens
To a refreshing breeze

Norfolke 2009

Saturday, June 06, 2009


By an unwept grave
Leaves scatter to the ground
A bell sounds three times
The wind sways the branches
Shriveled roses lie on a nearby stone
Birds are silent in the grey afternoon

I walk in the quiet
Between the remembered and not
Not searching but gazing
At names and dates
On chiseled granite and eroding marble
Through land set aside for the past

Broken columns
Cherub faces on flaking slate
Biblical names unused in this day
Words carved of heaven's reward
Dates marking too short lives
Relations noted

Dry grass crunches under foot
My shoes scuff the dirt
As I walk to the wrought iron gates
I know/knew none in this place
No tears left by me

Ron Eklof © 2009