An old sketch of the girl of my dreams.

Untitled.

by Louis B. Shalako

c2010 All Rights Reserved



When you look into my eyes

I wonder just who you see

Your soul fills up the room

And it touches me

You are all that is good

Pure, unsullied, just

You’re really something

Someone I could trust

Someone I could care for,

Help my life make sense

Now, don’t get all tense

I know who I am

What I look like

Where I came from

And where I’m going

Yes, I could

Fall in love with you

If only I could take the risk

For I know you could hurt me

That might not be so bad

Why tell you this?

I don’t want you to get mad

I don’t want you to do anything

Just go on being you

Knowing there is someone

Someone out there like you

Makes my life a little better

Even if I should lose you

Thank you for being who you are.

Ripples on a Pond...

by Louis B. Shalako

c2010

All Right Reserved

Ripples on a pond
A stone, in-thrown
A splash, gurgles around
Rings of effect
Outwards are sown
Unbothered the fishes
Unanswered as yet
Rings ripple outwards
He cares not, the egret
The frog, he does not fret
They're used to getting wet…
The shore is uneven
The pond irregular-shaped
First the wave hits here
And then it hits there
Turtle he submerges
Finally the surge hits
The back of the first little bay
The other end of the pond
Is still quite a ways away
At some point the wave’s reflections
They come back to the middle
Some go all the way across
Before they meet another
And are reflected yet again…
The surface of the pond is all a-jumble
The Polynesian
He is heard to mumble
“That way lies land—
“There’s people there, too—
Instructing the steersman,
Who knows just what to do
Whether it’s smoke on the horizon
Jungle telegraph,
Or some watery rumour mill
He can even tell us
Just exactly how far it is
“Just as a stone maps the pond—"
“The waves chart the sea—"
A bunch of waves reflecting-
Reflecting what they’ve seen.

Untitled. Pen and ink, pencil crayons. By Louis B. Shalako