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Lee E. Shilo

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Until Next Time
by Linda Alexander

Perry Conners, Arizona tycoon and soon-to-be politician, can't sleep or make love anymore, and he's losing all sense of reality. Is it the Devil's fault?..  
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A Pedestal of View
by Lee E. Shilo
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Sit back and relax. Now, let me take you on a Fantasy journey of color, sites and Imagination. This too can be your, Pedestal of View.

Upon a glorious sunny brightened day, with light so fair as to touch the cheeks of summer ladies sweet.

Perched and sitting on a pedestal of view, I watched.

Every thing of beauty present, was all of fine design.

A bird in flight atop the lift of pillowed air, a finely strung, silken web, and pearls of dew, slipping down into a lush of green.

Everything in beauty's eyes was beautiful to see, and open our eyes were wisdom's eyes, if, one cared to see.

A blade of grass, a field of dreams, a kindly deed well done.

To watch a Boulevard of life explode into a pulse of life, and possibilities was good to watch that day.

One step a journey started with, I walked a golden road.

Each step was paused, and calculated well, and there upon each step I took, a cloud of dust so fine and pure did rise.


My journey had begun.

Down into a vaulted valley deep, I stepped, into a cloud of mystery, shrouded in a cloth of mist so fine a gossamer wings should fall in peril.

So soft, I stepped upon that land, in search of denizens within.

What creatures stir imagination or peak and interest there?

What forces play or magic summons, what tasty adventures did await?

Another step of golden dust upon that sweet virgin land, and all sounds, smells, and feelings too, came alive again.

And there, amidst the ruby forest shining like a gem, new life abundant, clean and crisp, just waiting to be born.

In one breath I took, the very first inhaling in that land, all ailments, abandoned me, I was left standing pure.

A bridge waited for me to cross, and beckoned me ever near.

With railings made of Cherry-wood, and footings made of Pine, all wrapped in gold leaf, and sterling silver twine.

I took a step first taken never before in time, and a footprint and a record of myself, was left there far behind.

Gold dust to Pine, I reached the other side.

And looking back at golden tracks put there for all time, I wondered if I would ever be back to view them once again?

Below the bridge a river flowed, of honeydew and time, running down as slow as treacle, winding far and wide.

A trail to follow and I did take, and walking slow and fine, I stepped into the heart of newness, for the very first time.

On that trail, I walked along, passed flower, tree, and bush.

An excitement in me ebbed and flowed with every bend, and twist.

A path unknown to me, I'd take, not knowing where the end would near, I'd rest from chance to chance.

Then, dash along the unknown trail to see what waited anew.

To take a chance, a quickened glance, of everything to view.

A park of lights, each a diamond, shone it's clear and crystal light, upon a field of clouded, pillowed golden wheat at night.

And feeding on the yellowed grass, were the unicorns of myth.

Each with a mane of white so pure, and clean, a soul would envy them, and spiral horns of many lengths, and colors rarely seen.

So on I walked a wonderland in a dream, and wondered if I'd ever wake, I did not hasten to.

Awaken me not, for I was in a place so profound forever was a day.

A lifetime lived where time was not, in comfort's warming place, I laid and walked and danced upon that land so vast, and worried not of thee.

For all its magic in its world, it's where I wanted to be.

Where food was tasted, heaven sent, and hunger never felt.

Where thirst was quenched by knowledge, and all the knowledge free.

Where no question ever asked, was answered in riddle rhyme.

And any answer you would get, would be of golden truth.

Unhappiness was an afterthought, of bad, forbidden fruit.

An aftertaste of human race, would leave your pallet bruised.

Where sounds were music, forever to my ears, and not a hurtful word was said.

Each voice an instrument, of angels lips, thick and soft as honeyed words, upon my fragile ears to hear.

Warm and pleasing, never harsh, in waves of ecstasy.

I never tired to listen.

Where sleep was not, and you never wearied of all its wonder glory.

Weak was not a word you heard, nor used in virile context.

And being tired was never gained, no matter how you tried.

Only health and strength did reign, with every hard task done.

And every time you wanted to work, the work was always done.

On I walked through portals, time, and worlds.

So different were they each, that I could not explain, nor wanted to keep a record kept, for anyone to find.

No bread crumbed trail to follow, after me, behind.

No footprints kept in velvet soil, or tracks on trails to see.

No roads nor maps to guide the lost, quite lost, was where I wanted to be.

I traveled far and wide that dream, and worlds I did see.

I touched the heart of newness, and sailed upon its seas.

I traveled all the trails to take, and climbed upon its trees.

I lived everything that was beautiful and new.

Only to find, and waken upon,

a pedestal of view.




©Lee E. Shilo-All Rights Reserved-2009

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Reviewed by Eugene Williams
incrediable write delightful and well penned
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