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You are so tiny, I cannot see you are you really there?

You float and drift quietly as if dancing through the air.

Microscopic and silent yet you are more ferocious than a bear.

Everyone is susceptible as if it were your nature to share.

You move in and multiply forcing people to seek intensive care.

You divide a world with a new fashion statement as  we are given the choice of a mask to wear.

You mutate, you adapt, you are a warrior who doesn’t play fair.

Millions infected, thousands dead and a world healthcare system in despair.

Can we be rattled from our sleep for it is time for us to awake from this nightmare.

Frankie Michael Scavullo September 17, 2021

You Have Arrived

Where am I, how did I get here?

You have reached your new life and arrived with God speed.

Where is my body, how will people know me?

They will know you because you are uniqe, that former shell you do not need.

I have no lips, no mouth, how shall I eat?

No worries of those things here, believe me you will not require drink or feed.

My paint brushes, my canvas, what happened to them?

You remember them so they are present and in this new life you will flourish from a seed.

Where are my parents, my husband, that friend I lost so young?

They are all here, life everlasting it was promised to you every time you recited the Creed.

This seems so strange to me, however will I get used to this?

It is new for you, you have entered the gate, now trust and let me lead.

Turn yourself over to the Holy Spirit and gracefully follow for this is the faith in which you agreed.

You have arrived Kathleen, we will join you later. I the aftermath our friendship shall proceed.

Frances Michael Scavullo September 24, 2020

In memory of Kathleen Edwards Lee 1924-2020

14 Days

Life was different, time was of little care as we went about or ways.

Now we monitor our health counting out each fourteen days.

We are finally all united, the spices of humans on the rock.

A microscopic invaders destruction is the only thing now in which we put stock.

The world has changed in such a brief time that no one could have believed this true.

For our tiny new nemesis is proving to be a fairly worthy shrew.

A cough, a sneeze, the gentle clearing of one throat, causes neighbors to back away.

We were appalled by the intoxicated spring breakers who went to Florida and  just wanted to stay.

We take our temperature and wash our hands while keeping six feet from one and other

.We speak through the glass or from down the street to our parents, sister or brother.

And oh we watch the curve, hoping to flatten it with every day’s end.

It rises, it levels but we have to see what tomorrow has around the bend.

There are few smiles on faces which would anyways be blocked by a mask.

The news show the frazzled eyes of healthcare workers as they attempt to perform their task.

Now the earth is on quarantine for even God cannot be traditionally celebrated.

All major events have been canceled as the conviction of this virus is accelerated.

Thousands will perish, everyday life will be touched and it will be years before normalcy will return.

This is world war three in which scientist are the foot soldiers, notoriety is the medals they will earn.

Frankie Scavullo April 2, 2020

Life’s Script

I have witnessed more leave than enter this world.
As life’s journey is played out and its events unfurl.
Everyone exits with a legacy that is to each their own.
Leaving behind a life time of experience, a random cultivation of seeds that have been sown.
Some depart life’s stage with their merits receiving a roar of applause and a well deserved standing ovation.
While others leave us in obscurity alone with no friends, relatives, achievements or relations.
The faces of our elders tell the tales of the past.
Each wrinkle, each line, each scar is an important part of the cast.
In the end the story is told, laid out on the pages of life.
The script is composed of memories and bound together with joy and strife

Frank Michael Scavullo July 29, 2007

Looking Back

This five years later I look back on what we lost.

A feeling of freedom and safety that we Americans protect at all costs.

I remember the fallen heroes who came from scattered precincts to answer the call.

The innocent people who went to work that morning not knowing the towers would fall.

Evil had taken flight on wings of hatred and deceit. Their actions would affect everyone as we watched the world crumble at our feet.

Now we refer to it as ground zero, a memorial has plans to be built.

The names of those who perished adorn walls overlooking what is left of the rubble and silt.

We are safer thanks to the defending forces we put in place but a scar remains on our soul.

Many more have died to protect our freedom, they have paid the ultimate toll.

Now our best defense is prayer against this radical movement that has grown. We must plead with the Lord to squash the evil seeds that they have sown.

Frankie Michael Scavullo 9/11/2006

Heroes Lost

Heroes Lost

How will I feel when the last of my heroes die?

Will I act strong in public while in the darkness I cry? Will I fool myself by pretending they still walk the earth?

Will it affect me in such a way that it will diminish my feeling of self-worth?

Will I place others on a pedestal as if to worship like those I lost?

Only to find the replacements are so easily to be tossed.

My heroes will be gone only to be remembered in the recesses of my mind.

In the dark jumbled mental warehouse they will remain safe for me to find.

They raised me, they mentored me and they gave me advice on love and life.

They were there in the good times and will guide me through the bitter strife.

Frank Michael Scavullo July 2006[001027]

Big House Beach

I just got the news that our good friend Surfer Dave has passed.

The memories of growing up on the point with his influence are sure to last.

He was the one we would watch Planet of the Apes with on Saturday and he would read us excerpts from Helter Skelter on the beach.

As Marie, Tommy and I ran down Devon Road in the dark to the driveway we thought we would never reach.

It was the age of Aquaris and the summer of love.

Dave’s father would do magic tricks with flowers under a handkerchief turning into a dove.

He is a legend in my mind like a rock star, with the world as his stage.

Frozen in time as if we never grew up and all remained the same age.

Dave is part of the waves and if you return to the ocean you can stand with him once more.

The waves call his name and his breath help the gulls to soar.

Be not sorrowful that Dave has left this earth. For he has entered his promise land, which has given him a new birth.

Frank Michael Scavullo June 15, 2006


An icon has passed, our blood enters unto another world.

A family morn from afar as the news among entertainment circles unfurl.

He was our Hollywood among the Broadway elite.

An eye for beauty and fashion in every soul he would meet.

The ritz and pizzazz of Francesco’s life kept him from our sides for family to share.

Was it his penance in life to be surrounded by just a handful of those who really care?

His eyes and how they saw beauty were property for all to see.

Francesco, we will meet you on the other side, a family at last when all our souls are free.

Frank Michael Scavullo January 7, 2004

Death of a Musician

A musician was needed, his name was put on the list.

Someone to lead the band of angels and conduct with a gentle fist.

For us on earth it was way too soon.

He had boys to raise, and the band was working on a new tune.

Now he is with his father where they no not pain.

As if a kid again with his sisters running through the woods and down the lane.

We don’t always understand God’s plan. Sometimes the result seems unfair.

This I know for sure, he left behind people who care.

So on those cool summer nights when there is a slight breeze in the air, listen very closely for his strumming and know he is always there.

God is now his keeper. At Christ’s feet he lies.

Be happy for his new-found freedom with smiles and joyous cries.

Frank Michael Scavullo

May 8, 2003