Blessed Be

In times of troubleAngels tread upon the Earth. These pin drops of light Illuminate all souls from within and help soothe our pain

In this time of joy It is amazing to witness just such an angel bask in good fortune, so well deserved

May happiness shine upon each step of your path And may the kindness you've bestowed come back to you and never flee and may each day of your life bless-ed be

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Snowfall Surrender

Snowfall Surrender

Thin and lean in the warm humidity I thrive, more suited to a tropical clime

but tonight the snow falls softly and its white brightness is a welcomed respite from gray halos encircle the street lamps Christmas music plays

wistful childhood memories dance around me sledding, with a wealth of years to go I’ve held this grimace long enough it’s time to embrace this season and surrender to the snow

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The Perfect Pause - A Beginner's Meditation Guide and Journal

My meditation book (eBook version) is now only $1.99 for a limited time. Newly revised and expanded edition! Did you ever wish that life came with a pause button? The secret is that it does! With this book discover the key to making life more manageable. With three months of dedicated practice and journaling you will learn how meditation can greatly improve the quality of your life by:

• Easing and improving your ability to handle stress.

• Allowing you to sleep more restfully.

• Teaching you to appreciate the beauty that surrounds you.

The Perfect Pause is a clear, concise meditation guide and journal that will give you the basic tools necessary to discover life's "pause button". Included in the book is a three-month journal to chart your progress. This comprehensive guide provides the reader with a launch pad for a fulfilling lifelong spiritual journey!

Here's the link -

http://www.lulu.com/shop/eric-vance-walton/the-perfect-pause/ebook/product-17534486.html

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Give the Gift of Words!

The eBook version of my children's book, "The Land of Things We Wish For" is currently on sale for $2.99! Save an additional 20% at checkout with the code, "FELICITAS" (ALL CAPS). The savings end December 14th! Happy Holidays Facebook friends and thank you for your interest in independent publishing. Link to the book -

http://www.lulu.com/shop/eric-vance-walton/the-land-of-things-we-wish-for/ebook/product-17501090.html

Paradise Found

You’ve felt the hungerof your dreams pangs of obliqueness from that nameless, faceless hunger that gives you no pride, no shame fluid thoughts of a world draped in fixed opinions of Peace ever-searching for the answer to overcome the id and wonder what you ever did before your eyes were opened but experience weathers away your frame of mind slowly, relentlessly, minute by minute, hour after finite hour, wisdom overpowers until all you have left is the answer.

Your Soul Has Found Its Wings

Your true self calls like the oceanshimmers, vibrant as the sun and feels as comfortable as cool clover between your toes

we all know that you’re back again and each time we see that smile is a precious gift

to the delight of all those who love you the hearts around you sing your aura is now so clear and true Your soul has found its wings

Each dawn is a chance to realize that all you’ve ever wished for is a decision away your dreams hang heavy, so ripe and sweet just ready to be plucked from their vines

we all see that you’re back again and, oh, how you’ve been missed

to the delight of all those who love you the hearts around you sing your aura is now so clear and true Your soul has found its wings.

Ascendancy

Drink in the sanguine hush
and seek out the lushness of life,
that has been there all along

beyond all whims and aspirations
it lies in waiting with zealous eyes
wishing to awaken us by the sheer weight of its stare
hoping to be the catalyst of our rediscovery

time is not at all contrite in its
eagerness to erase 
all memory of us
but, in truth, time can be beaten 
squarely at its own game.

The Green Mill (Chicago 8/19/2004)

We took the redline to Lawrence

and checked the world at the door

in the footsteps of all those before

who found solace in sax and

draped themselves in neon dreams

I must confess

how easily I acquiesced

to the Gresik groove

hundreds moved

as broad shoulders unloaded

some say this swing-style’s outmoded.

It don’t mean a thing

Brother, I felt the pulse

The heart’s still tickin’

after all these years

And I’m the first to say

That I’m blown away

If relics we are, I accept it

This hurried world, I reject it

As I go back in my mind

to a simpler time

learn a new step and perfect it.

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Early Morning Savior

Fingers stained purple
vanilla's essence fills the air
small bubbles effervesce
as you cure to a rich mocha

buckwheat blueberry pancakes
crowned with a dollop of whipped cream
dusted with cinnamon and paired
with a cup of strong dark roast

filling the hollows of a cold morning hunger
warming the soul if ever so transiently and
properly dispelling the depths of midwinter's darkness.

Truth

Everything flies 

away eventually

 

a finite succession 

of crystalline 

moments in time

are all that we 

really have here

 

choices allow us

to shape each of them before

they are frozen in form

 

In this moment

I choose to be grateful,

happy and to be kind to you

 

I will never understand

your struggles and

mine you can never know

 

not hallow kindness 

born of pity

from some bleeding heart

 

but honest kindness

that comes from a place

of solemn respect

for a fellow traveler

whose twisted path

will eventually lead

them to the fringe

of very same Truth.

 

Looking Back at 39

Here at the glint

of my dream's unfolding

Placing the final pieces so deliberately

As this time I want to 

experience the full crescendo  

And savor the fruits of my labor

With those whom I love.  

 

Life thus far has been magnificent

the greatest of fears, slain

Wisdom gleaned from 

attuning to the hush of nothingness,

a Peace of stillness near

 

to me it has been proven many a time

That this Universe is a place 

of both infinite miracles and tough love

ever ready to take us into its arms 

and guide us, dutifully like a child 

through the audacity of our sorrows

to stand reborn

in the untouched light of a new day

 

This year I have learned

not to despair 

for not getting everything

I want

But to rejoice in the fact that I’m 

receiving exactly what

I need. 

 

SNL - Is There Hope?

I remember watching SNL as a child in the seventies. It was cutting edge, current. Now, when I have enough courage to tune in, I wince every since time at how bad it is. For the sake of nostalgia, I'll watch ten, maybe fifteen minutes longer than I'd want to but it never gets better.

I have two weeks until I have to start the rewrite of my novel after the editing is done. In the next two weeks I'm going to draft a few skits to send into the show. Probably a couple times per month my wife and I are driving along in the car or going for a walk and something sparks an idea for a spoof of a commercial or some other humorous skit. Believe me, the world provides plenty of material for this.

Just on our walk around the neighborhood lake alone we've come to know a cast of characters who entertain us every night. Just a small sampling of the cast of characters is as follows:

1. The Angry Jogger. A man who appears to be in his fifties and is wound way too tight. He has literally cursed me out, without ever turning around, for not getting out of this way;

2. The Poop Patrol. An elderly gentleman who rides his bike around the lake, keeping a watchful eye to make sure dog walkers pick up after their animals. If, God forbid, he sees a spare turd and you happen to have a bag in your hand he will ask you to pick up said turd. He's done this to us.; and

3. The Monkey Man. A man who walks around the lake with a real live monkey on his shoulder (I'm serious). The man gets his hair cut to mimic the monkey's hair (again, I'm serious), a close cropped flat top. Real Twilight Zone stuff here folks.

This will be a fun project. If nothing else, we can use the material for another project at a later date.

Children's Poetry For My New Book - 12 From Memory Lane (Currently seeking a publisher)

This is a collection of poetry that I wrote for a children's book years ago. I partnered with a great illustrator, Linda Pigman who created the pen and ink illustrations.The book will be similar in format to Shel Silverstein's, "Where the Sidewalk Ends". Each poem contains a kernel of a childhood memory. I am currently seeking a publisher for this book. If you know of anyone who may be interested please let me know, the art is done as well.

The Mean Lady On The Porch

She’s so old and mean, she sits and stares watching us with her icy glare

Is she mad at us for bouncing a ball Or is it because we’re four feet tall?

Does she frown at us girls and boys ‘cause we make far too much noise?

Sean says she’s just plain mean and so does Matt They said if she smiled, her face would crack!

Tanya told the story and Chris approved Of how the lady once had her smiler removed!

This all seemed so silly, I thought to myself As I put the ball back on the shelf

There was a flower in the yard I picked it, sighed and swallowed hard

And walked up to her, saying with a smile Hi, I’ve lived next door for quite a while

I’m glad I’m your neighbor and just want to say hi then a tear streamed down from her eye

After we talked a while I saw she wasn’t mean Sometimes people aren’t what they seem!

Red Rubber Ball

How I wish I could be a red rubber ball Ben could bounce me, then I’d be tall!

Curt could kick me and have lots of fun I’d roll along faster than people could run!

Brooke would dribble me ‘til I got dizzy During recess is when I would be busy!

It all sounds like more fun than one boy can take Besides, a red rubber ball can’t eat chocolate cake!

Secret Playground

Tucked away where no one can find it, it’s our own space my playground, your playground, our own special place.

Grown-ups can’t find it ‘cause they’ve forgotten the way Most of them think work’s more important than play

Me, I’ll keep coming here to slide down the slide Whoosh we race down as we giggle inside

My stomach gets queasy as we teeter and totter If I could only explain to my mother and father

How much fun can be had on one simple swing It sparks my mind to imagine incredible things

While climbing on top of the huge monkey bars I pretend I’m a spaceship floating high in the stars

Let’s never forget the way to our own special places that once painted bright smiles on our tiny faces.

Wake Up Juice

Six o’clock in the morning is way too early I’d rather sleep one more hour and have to hurry

My eyelids are droopy, the world is all fuzzy The sun isn’t even up but the alarm clock’s buzzing!

I’d be loose as a moose, or is it a goose? If I could just have one sip of wake up juice

The dark brown juice that fills dad’s cup, Its aroma fills the air as the steam floats up

It wakes dad up fast and makes him alert But he says I can’t have it cause I’m just a squirt.

The First Snowflake

The sun hangs high in the morning sky In the cooling air the first snowflake flies It flutters down for all to see and gets lost among the fallen leaves

it’s not long before his friends arrive more tiny flakes from Autumn skies

like diamonds shining pure and bright they glitter in the morning light

the air grows brutally frigid as North winds blow and the leaves get lost beneath the snow

if all is well and all is right and this continues through the night

we’ll dash for the door, mittens in hand to begin this Winter’s first SNOWMAN!

Snuggle Monkey

When I’m feeling down, in need of a hug When the world has no sympathy, he’s never smug

I just call his name and he’ll be right there he’s much hipper than some stuffed bear!

He doesn’t like bananas or swinging from trees Brussels sprouts, gingerbread, spiders or fleas

Just put on some music and watch him get funky He’s the one and only snuggle monkey

He’ll break into song whenever he pleases And likes to say, “Bless you” when anyone sneezes

He never makes a mess, or gets me in trouble I’m so very glad I have a monkey to snuggle!

A Fat Cat For A Hat

As Tammy lay down to go to sleep She cracked her book, sipped her tea And smiled as she looked at me She had a fat cat for a hat

You see, after she lay down in her bed a fat cat wrapped himself around her head and got himself warm while she read She had a fat cat for a hat!

her auburn hair was nice and soft as he snuggled in and drifted off on the nightstand her book was tossed she fell asleep with a fat cat for a hat!

Bookloft

There’s a wonderful place with rooms to roam thirty-two to be exact and each feels like home it's the Bookloft, nestled in the Village

Be careful, for if you lose your way You may wander lost for many days and read about everything from pies to plays in the Bookloft, nestled in the Village

Follow red brick streets and you’ll be there have the courage to go where not many dare Start the journey of knowledge and lose your cares in the Bookloft, nestled in the Village.

Shy Sly

Shy sly was so shy that he would close his eyes whenever he saw a stranger

but shy Sly, the poor guy feel into a hole, why? he never did see the danger.

Edgar’s Bike Shop

Whether it’s a big red bicycle with a old rusty chain Or a small tricycle that clickity-clacks like a train

Before you give up and throw it away, ask Edgar to fix it, he does everyday

Ask any kid on the block and they’ll tell you the way there’s no sign out front and he’s not open everyday

If you’re lucky Edgar will be in his garage with jumpsuit and wrench Leaning over a bent up old bike clamped to a green wooden bench

There’s no wheel that’s too crooked or flat tire he can’t seal If he’s in a good mood you’ll get a great deal

handlebars will be fixed for a few jellybeans chocolate bars will get you miraculous things

most days he’s quiet grumpy to tell you the truth but his mood is improved right through his sweet tooth.

The Barber’s Secret

Barbers now for many years, instead of cutting hair, have lowered ears

once you’d see a pile of hair on the floor but no you won’t see that anymore

they’ll tap the end of your ear with a comb quietly mumble their magic barber’s poem

and quickly each ear slides down an inch so fast it makes fooling you a cinch

Barbers now for many years, Instead of cutting hair, have lowered ears