The HyperTexts

William Boyd

William (Bill) T. Boyd served in USAF, later had career in USG with Navy, USAID, Peace Corps and State Dept. Authored a children's picture book The Pumpkin Fairy 20 years ago. It is on Amazon as "used." He currently lives in Estero, FL.



THIRTY FATHOMS DOWN

Thirty 
        fathoms
              down
             among
       the whiting
and the scrod
       dwells the fish
              most favored
               by Almighty God:
         the fat,
    the flaky,
the delectable cod.


 
THE GOOD THE BAD AND THE UGLY

With wedges come the chips,
With putters come the yips,
With one irons come few masters,
With drivers come disasters.



Couriers of Spring

When Nature pauses to purchase breath
on boughs of air-laced green,
have you ever noticed the tension
in the flowering dogwood tree
whose sentinel blossoms,
like flocks of hesitant butterflies,
suspend momentary flight into waiting Spring.



The Bowerbird

Showing off his prodigies
To impress his lady fair,
The bowerbird disports
With architectural flair.



View from the Second Mesa
                  
New Day...

Morning is startled by a pinyon jay,
a beautiful bird with the voice
of a crow. Day leaps the canyon
rim, joyously flooding its ramparts with
an iridescent rainbow — an ageless
performance, relieving the sameness
of eternity.

Length of Day...

The rivers swells, gnawing ravenously
at the canyon wall, now tinged with
smudged saffron and sapphire, as
if Nature, in a raffish mood, abandoned
Her brush and plied Her colors with
palette knife and thumb.

End of Day...

Earth eclipses the western sun and
the canyon blushes a deep vermillion.
Siren shadows beckon the coming night.



Faith's Raison D'Etre
          
Objections of a Cynic:

We run out of time and have no
answer when death dissolves our
mortality. How long do we live in
meaningful memory? Through our
children's children, surely no longer.
Like salt, we lose our savor after
Nature withdraws her zest. Our
worldly efforts seem mere dusty
whirlwinds which, after a generation
or two, lose their lose their energy
and collapse into piles of dry insignificance.

Answered by an Optimist:

To be conflicted over "time" and "space"
and other measures of our earthly span
denies us contemplation of that which
might have fulfilled all desire.



REFLECTIONS
             
Three aides with missions to fulfill
pass importantly through the door.
A worried admiral ascends on
elevator Number Four. To walk the
streets well dressed and be at home
among the agencies is to pass
importantly through the door. Its
sides of glass give the door a
window view, indeed, some can
pass a whole career just passing
through the door.



ODE TO SPAM

When nightfall comes to Hobo Town
All the boys are gathered round.
The campfire now is the warm abode
Of these kind gentlemen of the road.
And though their futures may be in doubt
They share their goods with those without.
Especially when dinner is the goal
There's one good soul they all extol.
He's a chef, a real gourmand,
Of his oeuvre they are most fond.
You might think it's roast of lamb
When you smell his curried Spam.



HAIKU

freak shows and carnival sounds         
      candy corn and merry-go-rounds
            childhood

pond ice fractures
       splintering
             the winter sky

contrails overhead
       faces upturned
             destinations unknown             

distant headlights
       like drowsy fireflies
             float down the mountainside

The HyperTexts