where the writers are

Ken Berry's Writings

  Walking along in our wood, I spy along my way; A pale green frond emerging, Seeking the light of day.   I wonder a bit at its moxie, For this path is on the way; To an often visited spot of ours, We shall revisit someday.   How long will it be until, Together we stroll this way? Will this fern be glorious then, and vibrant on that day?  
Bright morning sun rays, Promise something fair;   But evening soon comes, And lays it quite bare.    
My bed now empty, my heart remains full   [She’ll be coming home soon…] Love of the past,  promise of the future,        [She’ll be coming home soon…] I don’t have you now, but you still walk every room,             [She’ll be coming home soon…] Memories of the past, echo into...
  We speak in poetry, we love in verse,   Thoughts spoken softly, never terse.       Tip-toeing gently ‘round each other’s heart,   Fully Honest and Open, playing no parts.       Little by Little, hearts open and bloom,   Slowly and surely, steadily making room…       Ghosts of the past try to scare...
  The thick night air of this small country town,   Usually dark and quiet, has been disturbed.       This place where usually skeeters fly and toadfrogs flop,   Tonight is alight and alive, dancing with a cacophony!       Aromas of corndogs and candied apples waft along,   Carnies plead with children to reach...
Some days rarely, the clouds will gather,And darken and boil from the charge within;She doesn't choose it, and sure would rather,The storm disperse, and not ever come again. But the wind will blow, and the rain fall,And a tree or two, may be pulled by the top;The important things will last thru it all,For every wind that starts, must also stop. As the sky slowly...
Warm gentle river-waves lapping at the dock,Big fish tapping the surface and gone again.Creaky old dock boards, uneven and giving,Moonlight broken by the water and reflected.These remind me of you. Twigs snapping under foot, leaves blowing,Campfire crackling in that wonderful night.Happy children's laughter, bright and free,Sticky marshmallow and chocalate on my...
The silent carcass stirs, chest rising and falling again,The time of rebirth appears to be now, not somewhen. Her lovely bare feet pad silently across my floor,Her soft lips have been breeching my heart's door. She is wind and rain and loud thunder rolling strong,So tired of hearing the true and the right, called wrong. The Capital at the beginning and the period...
why is the question why is the thought, why can't everyone act as they ought?
Looking up at the formidable wall of years,Oft-times the only reward being  sweet, salty tears. Loving closeness and candor so badly missed,Paying daily present pain for futures promised bliss. Thinking back on promises made and floors swept,And dreaming of  the future promises made and yet to be kept; Craving so badly your sweet communion,Aching,...