Fields of despair a poem by Rob Neuschwander

Where are you and why are you there?
Ever dare ask the question, ever care?
Once asked, wait for the answers, better prepare,
to face what you've tried to erase,
what you cannot share:
For fear of shame,no one to blame,so light the flame
of interior light and journey where, you would never dare
go for love of truth and be willing to bare
what your search yields in the fields of despair.

Wisdom of the ancients a poem by Rob Neuschwander

To live in purity and keep the straight way,
listen what Rabbi Mahalelel did say,
"Three things above you ,you must always know,
and virtue will follow you everywhere you shall go.
If these things remember you surely will grow,;
Remember the eye that's above you does see;
The ear that can hear you wherever you be;
And last but not least perhaps greatest of all,
written ,recorded,and remembered of thee,
to all give account to the maker of me.

Time is but a place in space a poem by Rob Neuschwander

Robert Frost once wrote,' I could give all to time except that which I've held in my hand......that I will not part with."Some of the inspiration from that glorious poem inspired this poem .


Time is but a place in space,
that exempt from meter does erase;
leaving imagination open without measure;
thoughts,dreams ,meaning ,and pleasure.

Who for thought can time efface?
Who for courage and treasure time erase?
I will sit me down with book and pen,
open heart and journal ,venture within
the unexplored places,giving place to dream
and find what time has been hiding.
I'll discover new realms and things unseen
and adventure on where no man has been.

Henry the eighth

Henry the eighth is one of Shakespeare's marginalized plays, subsequently great thoughts are forgotten. Take these verses for example:

Buckingham says,"Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, be not loose, for those you make friends and give your heart to , when they once perceive the least rub in your fortunes, fall away like water from you, never found again."

or elsewhere in the play,"Our content is our best having"

or " Evil mens manners live in brass; their virtues write in water"

and this,"The quiet of my wounded conscience; Thou art a cure fit for a king"

Who of our age has yet found the convergence of genius ,original thought,human psychology and language all wrapped up in one man? No wonder he is a timeless titan of the English language.

Stillness and quiet a poem by Rob Neuschwander

A prelude thought from my diary....

"Stillness is as effective as quiet in spiritual rejuvenation. The juxtaposition of both is pure elation. But is stillness an inner perception and not merely the absence of movement?
At present there is profound stillness in my soul and the house is perfectly quiet but outside the wind is quite active with intermittent showers even snow with a backdrop of prevailing sunshine. In spite of all the activity there is stillness yet.........." This is the inspiration of the poem.


Stillness and quiet

Stillness and quiet reside in my soul
though outside wind and rain take it's toll,
on limbs and trees and blossoms and leaves;
In spite of all these distractions,
there is in me a restive peace,
as after storm clouds release
their violent spray then afterward they cease.

Then calm regains it's place
with absence of motion action erase;
Stillness ensues , quiet pursues.
Storm debris left not a hint or trace,
in midst of tumultuous windy pace;
I ,peace in tact, repose in grace.

Fatal attractions a poem by Rob Neuschwander

To willingly,knowingly act foolish
is to be the greatest fool of all.
When wisdom is spurned
and dicipline burned
be ready to crash and to fall.
A fool is known by his actions;
no difference how wise,no matter
how high or how tall you may be,
beware fatal attractions
that pull on your heart,
it's just the enemies dart
to wound you thoroughly.
When you act so carelessly
don't be so hopelessly
enamored when Mephistophles
brings you thoughts that tease
when he becons and comes to call,
no temptation has seized you
except that which is common to all.

Christmas mourn a poem by Rob Neuschwander

Assorted hopes wrapped in uncertainty,
many a joy bound up in dispair;
much in both must faith repair,
til joy unbounded and hope fly fair.
My spirit soars again high up in the air.
But know with certainty that faith's the key
that unlocks the mystery ............
of all that binds joy and buries hope within me.

Faith is a child on Christmas morn
unwrapping,untying presents under the tree,
ever so, ever so, ever so ,gleefully.

Mountain meadow a poem by Rob Neuschwander

I in all richness favor,
no other flavor,
none else do I so savour,
as a drink from a
mountain spring.

I crave no other thing,
but to dip my face
in a glacial chase
where no trace
of man is found
no other noise
no other sound
but gurgling ,giggling
springs abound.

Family stocks and futures a poem by Rob Neuschwander

"Basically it's over!" a wealthy man did say.
But he never did ask me what I thought
of the economic play.

I would tell him.......
My stock in children is as good as ever,
I invested wisely and could never,
say their return was down or their dividends low,
For love, admiration, and respect pay out slow.
No quick return on manic sales of "short love"
One can't raise good stock with push and shove,
or manipulate the market with calls and splits,
Wise investments accrue daily with each hug and kiss.
A sound strategy never suddenly splits and shifts.

My way in futures looks sound and clear,
Whenever my granddaughter plays and skips near,
and sits on my lap and whispers," Papa you're dear".
No, my value in family is as good as ever,
I invested wisely and could never,
say their return was down or dividends low,
For love, admiration,honor and respect pay out slow.

April in me a poem by Rob Neuschwander

It's about as April a day as March could be,

with blossoms full and sounds of bird and bee.

Oh, how can it be but March,

When it's so April in me?