Tag Archive | the woodlands texas
DEATH COMES A HORSEMAN
By Don Kenton Henry There is a great black cloud which fills the void between the prairie to the sky It blocks the sun and breathes and, as it does, exhales a wind from the soot and sulfur filled lungs of the dark side It rolls onward and before it comes a pale horseman […]
SHADOW BOXER
By Don Kenton Henry He works in the quiet corner of a dank and darkened gym It reeks of the sweat of men of color and the working stiff Alone, it’s just the mirror, the floor, and him Gone are the days he was all angle iron and barbed wire on two feet fighting for […]
The Sound Of A Heart Breaking
By Don Kenton Henry What sound does a heart make when it breaks Is it as quiet as the breath that now you cannot take Or . . . as the goodbye you never heard Is it the sound of the fluttering broken wing of a bird as it struggles in vain to fly […]
STORY TIME WITH THE BARD OF THE WOODS, RECITATION #1
As I say in the accompanying video, I have been writing since I was fifteen years of age. (Except for the thirty years I took a break.) The last seven years, I have been a member of a writer’s club here in my home, The Woodlands, Texas. Our work is often read by the leader […]
Mom
By Don Kenton Henry Yours was the first voice I heard Each breath you took you shared with me, My heart beat but for you You kept your place each time I stumbled, though everything inside you begged, “Pick him up!” But you were there when I took my first steps You counseled me through […]
Only One Version
By Don Kenton Henry There is only one version and you can’t buy it off the shelf If can be redeeming; It can be utterly cruel It shines bright when brought into the light Or it can haunt you in the dark of the night It’s the currency of the wise and the counterfeit […]
Life’s A Canvas Painted
By Don Kenton Henry Sun rise or sun set, it’s hard to know which is best A day of honest labor, or one of rest A day begun or day done, like a song to be written or a song sung A spring breeze or a winter’s blast A first love . . . […]
Better’n Bread ‘N Butter Pickles
By Don Kenton Henry Nothing but the sound of crickets rose above the corn in the mid-day sun that hot July. I’d shut my tractor down, taken my brown bag and thermos and left the field for the row of trees bordering the Wabash. That river cut right through grandpa’s one hundred twenty acres and […]
SHE’S BEEN MISTREATED NOT DEFEATED
By Don Kenton Henry The Lady’s served her children well She’s known joy and she’s known hell She’s lost more than just one son and daughter too She’s been through tragedy and triumph Ever watchful and reliant And she does it all for me and you A shining beacon across the seas leading those […]
LET THE LEAVES BE POETRY
By Don Kenton Henry You were a beauty rare I was a man with dearth of words A paucity of poetry I claimed I cursed my thoughts should go unheard You, lover of song and mirth ― how could you have cared For I without a worthy tribute O what I’d given to […]
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