On the Wings of Twilight

By Buddy Hendricks

On The Wings Of Twilight is a collection of poems that mostly nature has inspired, as only it, in its infinite beauty, can do. Then there is the human side that is always available to draw thoughts that wind up on the paper. I can only hope that a line or phrase, perhaps a whole poem, can climb into the reader’s thoughts and place a calmness upon them or take them to a place they can relate to in their own lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546258025

Buddy Hendricks

Buddy Hendricks was many things in his lifetime. He was a student, athlete, soldier, parent, teacher, lodge member, animal shelter director, poet and friend. But more importantly, Buddy was a lover of people, animals and nature. He enjoyed and celebrated the vibrations of life. In short, he recognized that while humanity is not perfect, it is nevertheless the state in which all of us find ourselves and he chose to write about it through the medium of poetry.

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© 2018 Buddy Hendricks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   09/20/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5804-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5803-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5802-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018910282

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

IN APPRECIATION

My long-time friend, Mr. J.D. Woods has reviewed everything I have written. He has encouraged me, advised me, and used my name in the same sentence with some great authors. I understand and appreciate the encouragement and the advice, but I am not sure about the latter.

Seriously, he is a gentleman and a scholar, but most importantly, a true friend. Without his wisdom and wit, I would not be as far along as I am.

Je vous remercie, J.D.

Thank you Debbie Stailey for the back cover photograph of me, you make it look so easy.

CONTENTS

The Glory Of The Dream

On The Wings Of Twilight

Standing In The Shadows

Shorter Days

Where Is The Beauty?

The Silence Of The Snow

Be Still In The Presance

Christmas Musings

Santa’s Christmas Fun

Sleigh Bells

When Santa Came Flying

Santa In The Heart

Tracks In The Snow

Counting Snow

Let The Wind

The Agreeable Days Of Spring

The Vast Circle

Special Moments

Dreams

Only For A While

Voices

A-No. 1

What Of The Hours

Where Only She Has Been

The River’s Edge

Added Days

All The Beauty

Rainy Day Picnic

The Wall

Asking Of Friends

That Man In The Moon

In The Cool Of The Night

Just Another Day

Freedom’s Chimes

Childhood Whispers

Summer Dreams

Lovely Scents

The Dream

The Paper Band

The Warming

The Way It Has Always Been

Secrets Of The Heart

Mr. Shadow

Always A Companion

Chasing Dreams

That Golden Moon

Sweet Serenade

The Beauty In The Mist

The Mockingbird Near?

Why The Roosters Chased

Those End-Of-Day Shadows

Summer Surprise

Lovely Belle

That Strawberry Moon

Ashes On The Wind

And Summer Was Gone

Which Ones First

Shadows

Where Is September Today?

The Sweetest Laughter

Treasure Found

Good To Go Home

That Haunting Sound

The Gift

Familiar Roads

Of Days Gone By

Comes The Morning Peace

All Things Go Away

Sweet Sound Of Long Ago

Which Yesterday?

The Joys Of The Heart

Time Before And After

Rush Upon The Moment

Following

Pickpockets And Thieves

Oh Autumn

But For That Mystic Sound

The Mystique Of Autumn

Moments

Haunting Melodies

So Many Words

If Only For A Time

Spending The Last Hours

That Sound

The Names Upon The Stones

Last Train Home

Through The Field

Pass Not The Beauty Of Autumn

No Peace On The Train

If You Listen

Late Autumn Tale

The Last Time On The Train

Questions

Ironweed…Fields Of Dreams

THE GLORY OF THE DREAM

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Infinite power dwells within the youth, even without their knowledge that it is there.

Power ignited by their effortless ability to dream something of nothing, out of the air.

To change themselves into knights saving their friends from dragons and evil kingdoms.

Offering them solace from the misfortunes of the day, marching high, singing anthems…

Oh, what can I be today? Do they even give thought, nay blink, and the power wields.

Or’ the fields of battle against legions of soldiers, flying those planes away from airfields.

Arriving home with medals galore to find that lass that was left waving from rail depot.

When asked at the table fare about the day, Oh, nothing much! With eyes aglow…

Still, the power has not been touched, for no application to reality has come into play.

With time, that changes, and the real power is noted yet, perhaps never to its full array.

Practice, drill, set goals that pull us further than we thought possible, we can dominate.

The power consumes, the mates join in, the fans, the community, the wins accumulate…

The power is so awesome when it can be seen as a tool for everyday commitment and use.

Never doubting that it can carry the day as wind to the sails, no thought of offering excuse.

Yet comes the finest blessing when at age, I find that surreal light, bright flash or subtle gleam.

I can beckon the power that never dies, and from where’re I am, bask in the glory of the dream….

ON THE WINGS OF TWILIGHT

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It fairly well started from a gentle nod of the head, whispering, And so…

A trickle of water for a river, that first breeze through tiny leaves, callow.

A sky then cerulean, no hint of clouds, the air clean of all that is foul.

It was well on that day, a smile on the lips, there was no hint of a scowl…

The animals stirred, the large and small, grazing on land spread before.

They wandered, wide-eyed and inquisitive, of the never-ending moor.

And there were birds of every color, flying to and fro, picture of grace.

Their songs were loud, yet easy, beautiful notes were in every place…

The oceans gently rolled under the sun, lovely whitecaps upon their swells.

The scene ever repeated, splendor of sailors, it will always cast its spells.

The swimmers of the seas, their trek from port to port, shallow to deep.

They stretch from the darkish depth in all their strength, even to the neap…

The sun, bright and warm as it moved across the heaven, to light the way.

It was comfort, it was strength, there were no reasons to fear, none to allay.

The trees offered shade to cool, a place to rest, perhaps a fruit to consume.

A peaceful respite surrounded by unrelenting loveliness coming to bloom…

The day was offered in love, in splendor, in beauty that remains untold.

A gift magnificent, without price, offered with hope that it would enfold.

The first of all things after love, spread upon the gentle earth for us to come.

Would become for each one, alike to a store, a longstanding emporium…

That day had begun, that invisible clock to quietly tick along, to keep time.

All things set in motion to begin the journey never-ending, first paradigm.

Yet, the day began to fade away, the glory given to all, good and right.

And it was carried gently away, to come again, on the wings of twilight….

STANDING IN THE SHADOWS

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Standing in the shadows, watching for the first light that comes,

just after the fliers begin stirring from their limbs, singing their anthems.

Just before, it was