In Death

In death we find unfolded life
Bearing the marks of hope in love
Seeing beyond this wooden box of strife
Longing for something more thereof
To carry us along the rough terrain
While with stiffened lips we sing a refrain
All the while we long for a better day
As this one has been too long in its sway
And death has come and taken one away
Leaving us to board the passing train
Soaking us now in tears like rain
That never cease inside the soul
While we remember the little one in extol
Though now he lay in silent pose
We walk the miles of pain in repose
Looking for no one but death to blame
For whom we cast aside our shame
And in the light we find our way
To the One who holds us while we pray
As in death we find unfolded life

© Robert AuBuchon Jr
November 2009
In Memory of Colton Thurman who died October 31, 2009 (4 yrs old)

Fallen

Wet and heavy they fall around
Abandoned and scattered they lay
Soiled and unnoticed on the ground
Ah, but to be noticed in this sort of way
Gives one last chance, oh so profound
If only for the moment, ’tis their stay

© Robert AuBuchon Jr
October 2009

The Circle

When winter comes on frigid feet
Then a rain of leafs come tumbling down
They fall in multicolored heaps
Soon they all turn brown.

Nature will dissect each leaf
And into soil they will return
Now to feed the tree that gave them birth
Just as planned, the circle is complete

Wayne Spence
October 2009

To Be

Oh to be what I dream to be
Without the distractions of misery
That keeps from being so free.

Of mouse or man I would not be
But to be a line of poetry
And there a chance to be me.

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
October 2009

Poetry Poses

Poetry poses a divergent dilemma
Words, pauses and spaces
Of the poet in visceral language
Lines of introspection
Making way for him
More than them
Who read and wonder
If the perilous and pettiness
Of this awkward type
Makes any sense at all
But the poet, he writes on
Laying congruent lines of likeness
One upon another
And after one another
Making all the sense to him
The poet who sits and writes
Poetry that poses

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
October 2009

Drink

Oh to drink afresh
From the water of the Christ
Who saved a soul like me
From myself and hell itself
To be lost no more
I drink His water of life
So fully now
No more to drink
The water of the world
But from Him
The One who saved me
Through and through
Oh to Him I drink and live
The One who saves
Who keeps and guards
The soul of one so like me

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
October 2009

Gone By

Gone by the way of eternity
A friend so fresh in faith
Holding onto the hand of God
As He reached out for hers
Leaving behind ones so loved
Stepping into loved ones waiting
Gone by the way of passing death
Taken high into the heights
Beyond the sight filled woes of man
Now to live forever more
In a way now gone by

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
October 2009
“In Memory: Sibyl Spence”

A Poetic Cup

Tonight I drink from my cup
A cup blackened with blessing
And oh how it stirs the soul
As words spill
Staining the pages below
Giving hint and sway
To a poem line or two
Creativity traversing on
But only for the blushing time
Like a child on a carnival ride
It creaks and ceases
No longer to be, Stopping
Like the drink in my cup
Has come to its end

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
October 2009

Morning Grace

The creature of ordained purpose
Captured the attention of my eye
Grace winged itself into my world
Pausing ever so slightly for the morning
Posing every so lightly for the day
Graceful was the motion in its wings
Grace filled was the motion of the soul
On this morning grace visited me

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
August 2009

* Photograph by Bob

The Summer Eve

In the coolness of the summer eve
The air was wound tight like coiled steel strings
On the instruments of choice preparing to play
The smell of “joe” could be smelled
With decorated half drank cups setting ’round
As fresh ones were being made and on their way
And the moon in its quarter stage
Hung softly low in the darkened sky
As the words of the songs were sang
Of the one who could save
And the world of broken lives would pass us by
But we’d not know otherwise
As we tapped the souls of our feet
To the songs of a saving savior passing by
While others outside and beyond
Rambled on like the train unseen
Through the window pane
And we sat and enjoyed the conversation in song
Of a saving savior who wouldn’t approve
Of the established structures we call love
While we passed the hat and jar
To collect and fund another time
Not knowing if this time would be the last
For the one who the saving savior
Walks beside out in the street
Where the songs of a saving savior are not played
In the coolness of a the summer eve

© Robert AuBuchon Jr 
August 2009

* The summer eve at “Big Mamma’s Coffee & Espresso Bar” in Springfield MO