Nick’s Poetry

Calico Waves
by Nicholas Emeigh

Blue and green amorphous curiosities
reached toward the warming sun in late morning.
Their salty, wet tongues lapped at my feet
as the lazy Sunday lumbered along, creating a haze.

It was an ice cream Sunday on the promenade,
and summer was written in the sky;
there was music for the souls that were dancing,
and colorful umbrellas provided refuge to those too weary.

Millions have met these waves–my friends–
since the days when I danced to the music,
but I promised to travel the world as their feet,
returning one autumn to tell them of my life’s adventures.

I brought my children from the city to the shore,
to meet the waves and share the secrets
that I had confided in their massive, royal blue majesty
while splashing and laughing in the spirit of summer.

Many people in life had beat me to the finish line,
but I did not participate in the marathon.
I chose to walk in the sandy paths with bare feet
that always seemed to lead me to the sea.

In finding that this was where my tired eyes belonged,
I sought out the coast painted in colors of autumn,
and watched as my soul was carried in calico waves,
rolling on to meet the setting sun in the distance.

Ever-Autumn Town
by Nicholas Emeigh

In dreams I live where times are old,
Where leaves will turn an orange-gold
When chill of winter wind is cold
In Ever-Autumn Town

My spirit lives and never dies,
And children never speak of lies
With dreams of building past the skies
In Ever-Autumn Town

Jack-o-lanterns line the way
Their faces glow through mid of day
Where passing souls will make their stay
In Ever-Autumn Town

The streets are dark by nine o’clock
You’ll find that doors aren’t made to lock
And picket fences ’round the block
In Ever-Autumn Town

The milkman brings the day anew
Where dreamers’ visions grace the view,
And doers — there have come a few
In Ever-Autumn Town

This is my dream of memories made
of photographs that brown and fade
In scrapbooks stained with lemonade
In Ever-Autumn Town

I hear the crackle in the air,
for autumn leaves are blowing there.
Come with me, there’s enough to share
In Ever-Autumn Town

Birth of a Generation
by Nicholas Emeigh

a wiser generation passed
we knew it wasn’t meant to last
this overlooked, we took for granted
full of life and deemed enchanted
millions of the stepping stones
frail frames and aching bones

they gave us what we will remember
kneading doughy hearts to tender
built to stand the test of time
always out to find the dime
and save it for the generation
next in line to lead the nation.