Garden of a Man

Divided Man

The garden of a man’s mind is not found easily.

To your eyes it is high rock walls,

and shielded in weapons of many sort.

He will too often give a key to traitors and oath breakers,

perhaps in a way, to remind himself of why he keeps it hidden.

To be given access to his fertile ground,

be the water, flowing to his deep hungry roots.

Nourish him…his dreamland.

That is the way inside a man.

Gordon Hays, 2006


Puppy Love

bucky 1

Oh, just a puppy kind of love they say.

When days are filled with sloppy kisses so.

Whether playing fetch, tug of war or stay,

wherever he runs, so does my heart go.

I wake to nuzzle before the sun’s rise.

I burry my nose in his soft black fur.

Forever a friend found in deep brown eyes.

Even walks to poop can be a pleasure.

Alas, before he came, all hope seemed lost.

A man alone in need of rescue,

unconditional love I needed most.

A pup arrived to heal a heart so blue.

Now write a sonnet for little Bucky.

Because he chose me, I feel so lucky.

“Puppy Love” Gordon Hays 2013

Gordon and Bucky 3

Make Friends with Fear.

“If you’re afraid of something, face it…The only way to conquer your fear is to stand next to it.” -Jennifer Armintrout

Horse and Bucky

Horse and Bucky photo by Gordon Hays, 2014

This special moment between my fifteen pound hero, and the beautiful horse along our walk reminds me to have courage, and make friends with fear!

Gordon xoxo

Follow your Dreams!

“Fiction and truth blur when you write what you know, just like the divide between dream and reality. Sometimes, if you dream hard enough that thing you’ve always wanted becomes real.” -Gordon Hays, 2015

Butterfly signature

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Dear Joe…

I wrote the poem featured below two years ago during my Creative Writing course, and wanted to share it again with my fellow bloggers! I was enjoying my delicious espresso beverage a few mornings ago, reminding me of my love and longing for all things Arabica. Savor!


“Dear Joe”

Dear Joe, don’t go. I long for more.
Stay, your stain upon my lips, I beg…oh, please.
Every taste is a pleasure, like none before.
Morning after morning, my heart does soar.
Is it any wonder the night plays cruelest tease?
Dear Joe, don’t go. I long for more.
You and I bound together at our core.
A day without you, and I brim with endless unease.
Every taste is a pleasure, like none before.
Why fight, why resist your frothy pour?
Down, down, I drink your dark brewed seas.
Dear Joe, don’t go. I long for more.
Some might say I am your whore.
Your fluid ounces I greedily seize.
Every taste is a pleasure, like none before.
No life imaginable without your grind, nor
searing sips as these.
Dear Joe, don’t go. I long for more.
Every taste is a pleasure, like none before.

– Gordon Hays 2013

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