Jeffrey Hull

© 2006 Rick Lee


Like birds on the wing, like the waves on the sea,
We'll swirl with abandon, my love, we'll be free–
Stairstepping aloft on the beat and the tune
To skip 'cross the sky, while that stuffy old moon
May frown his reproaches as much as he might:
The stars shine for lovers, the heavens' delight.

And when the sun's eyebrow peeks out from his bed,
Our dancefloor of clouds all a-kindled with red,
Why, homeward we'll whirl for a last glass of wine,
And blow out the candles, then your hand in mine
We’ll soar once again in our dreams of the time
Together we swayed, our own soiree sublime.


© 2006 Jeffrey Hull

© 2006 Rick Lee. All rights reserved.


Did God construct the wing to please the eye,
Or frame the globe to love the butterfly?
Did He allow the vision of a cloud
To tantalize how heaven is endowed?

Did thunder or the keening of the wind
Precede the time when Adam's clan had sinned?
Then did the Maker give His sons the choice
To heed or not their gentle Father's voice?

And fragrances that waft upon the breeze–
Beflowered meadows, heavy laden trees
With sun-kissed fruit's intoxicating spell:
Were they here, too, before our sense of smell?

Did He fill up the sea with briny salt
To taunt the tongue and thus His work exalt,
Then did He grant His children sense of taste
To savor foods with which His world is graced?

The brush of lover's lip, or gentle hand:
Did these precede or follow God's command?
Does all the world around us thus confess
His presence in a mother's tenderness?


© 2006 Jeffrey Hull

Unicoi State Park, Helen Georgia. © 2006 Rick Lee. All rights reserved.


Has anybody spied the sky?
   I seem to have misplaced it;
I hear it's blue, but what to do–
   Some dark thing has effaced it.

Has anybody seen the wind?
   I heard someone defaced it;
Despite all pleas he marred the breeze
   And spoiled the clouds that laced it.

Has anybody sipped the sea?
   I miss the waves that graced it;
It fills my dreams and there it seems
   My mind can almost taste it.

Has anybody heard my heart?
   Some bitterness encased it,
And left its room a quiet tomb
   As if someone erased it.


© 2006 Jeffrey Hull

His prison cell a mind too small
   To hold the thought of grace,
Where lies no sentence can recall,
   And fear and boredom pace–

The walls are tall and stout the door
   That keeps the quiet in
'Til sense relents and grants the floor
   Its stony discipline.

Upon a time the Jailer came
   And offered his release,
But found that shame had made him lame
   So left him there in peace.


© 2006 Jeffrey Hull