Bedside Manor: Poetry & Prose to Dream By

Bedside Manor By Royal L. CraigDelightfully diverse reading THE OFFERINGHe was still,Like the placid lake in summer when the mountain holds its breath,He was still,Like the fawn down in the high grass where the tiger signals death.THE COURIER AND SHIVAThe Lancers must be warned tonight.He smiled and looked at meIts sure to be a nasty fightBut first, a cup of teaAPRICOTFor all the world The poem I need to write Cannot be written. The words I need to say Cannot be said.BLEAKELY HALLAn awesome mystery haunts the heartAt the sight of an empty houseThe echo of living dampens the airAll but the spirits have fledCANDYWhen Andy met Candy he thought it was dandyTo take her for fine tea and cake.Candy had need and slyly agreedTo have their tea by the lake.COAST MAGICHave you ever stoodWhere the winding woodSweeps down to the seamless seaCOUNTRY BOYWell, big Jimmy was pulling the plow when it nosed into a split in that rock. There must have been a crack in the blade for it to snap so easily. --- He reared back and took off with the broken plow clanging behind. It chased him all the way to the barn. That was a sight!CREATIONIn the beginning, this is how it began,So the mystics tell usWhen there was nothing,There was That, that Is -- ever-existing,How To Tell If Your Really DeadIf you find theres no tomorrow,And your friends are draped in sorrow,And you really cant remember last nights binge;You may think that youre in cloverBut, dear friend, you have passed over,QUESTIONSMy mind cried out to the infinite,Tell me of the beginning.A child came, softly singing,He was when there was nothing;Before the ages had their start.Sitting in the garden,Catch Him if you canIn the quiet of your heart. ABOUT THE AUTHORRoyals studies in mysticism have resulted in Bedside Manor, Part 1.Study of life with has resulted in Bedside Manor, Part 2.He is working on a book on mysticism, and teaches creative writing locally. He also writes How to Write articles. I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens Ive been knocking from the inside! Maulana RumiPoetry reveals reflective insight on the escape clause in the illusion called life. I write to show the magic hidden in the moment whether mysticism, serious poetry, ballads, or nonsense.