The Joy of Reading
By W. Robert Walker
How did I learn to decipher the gnarled symbols
Set so securely on those ivory-tinted sheaves?
Squiggly lines standing tall in prim and proper rows;
Running left to right; clumping chunks of mystic texts;
Summoning and enchanting my young mind.

What albatrosses beckoned from behind closed covers?
What gave me nerve to answer their calls?
Flapping their paper wings in the breeze,
Clacking withered spines against the floors,
Enriching and shaping my naïve thoughts.

What gentle madness makes mankind
Choose cloistered solitude, or
Shun springtime fields for hopes or memories?
Leather-covered, acid-free with a glimmer of dust,
Adventure stirs in the opening of the covers.

What teacher led me to that foreign oasis
To satisfy my ceaseless thirst?
Ere youthful soul first skipped toward school,
My mind had conquered the quiet joy of reading:
For Mom's bedtime stories had long bewitched my heart.

The Rime of Missed Messages
By W. Robert Walker

The seagulls flew down from the shelf their wings a whirling blur.
Their open beaks and hardened spines caused my heart to stir.
I wondered what they held within; what words they had for me,
But when I looked between their spines, their message seemed to flee.

They spoke exotic gibberish, weird glossolalia,
And I could naught but hide in shame from their bewitched tirade:
Volumes, volumes everywhere formed with foreign sounds;
Volumes, volumes everywhere with mysteries tightly bound.

Their talons latched onto my soul and tried to bring it life,
But I could only mouth the words with no relief from strife.
Was there meaning in these signs which spread across the page?
Was there meaning hidden here to soothe my teeming rage?

Their leatherbacks and gold-flecked wings were something to behold;
The treasures they bestowed on me, made quite a heavy load.
Volumes, volumes everywhere formed with foreign sounds;
Volumes, volumes everywhere with mysteries tightly bound.

For knowledge of a thousand tongues, I prayed would fall on me.
The mantel of linguistic ken would calm my misery.
Will I ever comprehend this stressful cacophony
That's closed my ears to clicks and stops and twelve-tone symphonies?

The seagulls saw the uselessness of their communiqués.
They settled back into their nests; my mind to disarray.
Volumes, volumes everywhere formed with foreign sounds;
Volumes, volumes everywhere with mysteries tightly bound.

The world continues on its way benign in its intent.
The storm clouds swirl across the skies until their wrath is spent,
But I must try to lift myself from ignorance to bliss
Or pine about the wisdom of humanity that I'd missed.

How to End a Poem
By W. Robert Walker

There is no way to end a poem
For It will end itself,
But if the pen won't stem its flow
The guides below may help:

Like a curse or creeping pox
Avoid a summary ending;
End your poem with images
Or surprising anecdotes,
Or words which echo or evoke
The sounds that went before;

Instead of floating freely
Upon a brackish sea,
Anchor your poem securely
In its reality;

Use an apt comparison:
A stardust stampede in the sky
Or a choir of contrite crickets;
Shock the complacent
From their somnolence;
Close with musical chords
Which promise a resolve.

There are as many ways to end
a poem and yet there is not one
For poems will just communicate
Exactly when they're done.