I stand in utter darkness, thick and deep
Below, the rough waves crash on endlessly
Around me, stinging wind and cold rain weep
And yet I set my eyes in faith before me
For the one hope in this uncertainty
And there it comes, a beam of clear green light
In steadfast rhythm shines on fearlessly
A compass beacon sent to land and sea
The faithful lighthouse guides worn travelers through the night
The heavy brush of morning mist
Rolls across my skin
As pink and orange clouds’ fingertips
Stretch to the day begin
The birds shout out their joyful cheer
The morning now to greet
And sun-touched roses open wide
Their fragrance warm and sweet
Oh to catch the mist that holds
The scents, the hues, the song
And keep it in a bottle
To sip the winter long
In for a penny, in for a pound
Never give up until you have found
Not just the pieces but the answer in full
Or you’ll never know how close was the goal
In for a penny, in for a pound
Hard work is scarce while opinions abound
Too often the answer is known by none
Until you’ve slogged through the race to be run
Low shuffling roar as the onlookers
Like marbles, each roll to a chair
‘Pomp and Circumstance’ swells and unfurls
A red carpet high up in the air
The black caps come marching in two by two
With the fragrance of freedom fresh and cool
As they step through the last of the twirling hoops
Of the long slinky tunnel of school
After one last powerful stage show
From the gatekeepers of degrees
While the bobbing sea of black diamonds
Keeps from bumping their hats and their knees
Each graduate parades across the stage
To be recognized for their achievement
The taut threads of hush in the audience snap
Into fireworks of bursting excitement
The black caps go marching out two by two
On the swell of the crowd and the music grand
But after all’s quiet, what really counts
Is the hard-won diploma each holds in their hand
Up the creek without a paddle
No way to get by
Just have to get back in the saddle
And give another try
They say it’s not rocket science
Well I have no PhD
But if you want to hear my two cents
It looks worse than math to me
Purple petals drifting down
Scattered softly on the ground
Dry up in the summer heat
Crumbled brown beneath our feet
Buried by crisp leaves of fall
And winter’s snowy sparkling shawl
In chill spring air, green sprouts appear
The jeweled iris crowns the year
