Buttons

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Buttons, buttons everywhere,
they’re on this and over there.
They’re on clothes and touch-screens.
They’re on phones and flying machines

They can be found in boxes or jars,
or in neat rows on boats and cars.
Being on the button is good,
pushing people’s, you never should.

Some buttons are big, some are small.
Some buttons do nothing at all,
some are outies others innies,
silly buttons on our bellies.

You may have a cute button nose,
to enjoy the smell of sweet rose.
While buttoned up or buttoned down,
in the rain or strolling in town.

Buttons in all shapes, any size,
having a spare is always wise.
Buttons for eyes on our stuffed friends.
Uses for buttons never ends.

We glue them on paper plates,
making gifts for special dates.
Add string then sprinkle glitter on,
next curly yarn, name in crayon.

Some are toggles, some are switches.
Some like snaps to hold up breeches.
No zippers for me, I prefer,
buttons to hold all together.

Glad to share my buttons with you,
we’re all buttoned up, story through.
Rhyme’s done, time to button my lip,
I’ll say goodbye, have a safe trip.

The End                        sck081414

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/467759

Swing Band

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While riding today on my swing,

Heard a song, started to sing.

Beatles click and chirping bird,

An outside song, inside not heard.

*

In the wood wind blows through the trees.

Back-up came from buzzing bees.

The babbling brook played the rhythm.

Over smooth stones the waters strum.

*

Keeping the beat atop a log,

Bass was played by a croaking frog.

It’s nature’s band with me to sing.

Soaring high on my backyard swing.

~*~

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Awakened

I woke today a poet, dreams now in view.
The sun’s soon to rise on a world truly new.
My eyes open wide, heart beats on high.
Senses all a tingle, colors fill the sky.
~
Birds spread their joy, they sing me a song.
Their sounds inspire feelings pure and strong.
A cat sleeps on a table-top, seemingly unaware.
My darling’s soon to wake, morning we will share.
~
Thoughts and emotions again will flow.
Hugs and kisses let us both know.
The future is beginning when we rise.
Our time is surely now, why compromise.

~*~
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Bedtime

The time of the day that’s bittersweet.

Resting our heads, eyes and feet.

Day’s not over much left to do.

Watch TV or go to the zoo.

~

I’m not tired, it’s not too late.

Just a few hours, that’ll be great.

I’ll clean my room, music down low.

Fold some laundry, put on a show.

 ~

So many things better than sleep,

Reading a book, taking a leap.

Or have a snack by candlelight.

Why must we always waste our night?

 ~

I’m not ready for bedtime yet.

I might miss things that I’ll regret.

Things are missed when you close your eyes.

Can’t see stars or watch the sunrise.

 ~

If nights awake I’d sleep all day.

I’ll have no time for friends or play.

I guess if there’s a choice to make –

I’ll sleep at night, spend day awake.

~

The End

*

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I Saw Today

I saw today my baby’s start
Opened her eyes and stole my heart

I saw today her smile at me
We brought her home, safe as can be

I saw today her tucked in bed
Gently leaned over to kiss her head

I saw today my baby weep
Snuggled her gently back to sleep

I saw today my baby eat
Covered from head to little feet

I saw today my baby sit
Till falling over in a giggle fit

I saw today my baby crawl
Tried to escape down the hall

I saw today my baby stand
Holding my finger in her hand

I saw today my baby walk
Then soon after began to talk

I saw today my baby run
Laughing and screaming, having fun

I saw today her surprise art
The wall and it shall never part

I saw today her bruise a knee
Climbed too high and fell from a tree

I saw today her play tattoo
0n her belly, red, green and blue I saw today her find a cat
Opened the door and that was that

I saw today her ride a bike
Though too young to be off her trike

I saw today she learned to swim
Tub’s full, splashes over the rim

I saw today her play a song
Tiny violin with bow so long

I saw today my baby grew
She had to shop for something new

I saw today her off to school
Not holding hands, acting cool

I saw today she was funny
On the coach napping with bunny

I saw today her go to the dance
Just for fun and not for romance

I saw today her drive a car
I hope she doesn’t go too far

I saw today her graduate
Then off to college, she’ll do great

I saw today my baby grown
Off to the city, on her own

I saw today her new career
Making art for people to wear

I saw today she’s just like us
The best of both, with little fuss

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The Littlest Dragon Slayer

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A little scared of our trip last year,

to the far north-lands, home of the bear.

Mountains, forests and an ice-cold lake,

no swimming or castles of sand to make.

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Fresh air and sunshine, stars in the sky,

camping and hiking, climb mountains high.

That didn’t sound like much fun to me,

I’d rather visit a nice warm sea.

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Drive lasted hours, slumped in the backseat.

We ran out of snacks, then nothing to eat.

We read a new book of funny rhymes,

I fell asleep a couple of times.

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Some stories were good, some I got bored,

some I laughed loudly, others I snored.

Arriving late in the darkness of night,

waking early to rising sunlight.

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First we ate breakfast then a short hike.

Had lunch with dessert, what’s not to like.

Then a museum of the natives past,

legends of old and now fading fast.

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Heard some stories, we saw a show.

My favorite was of long ago,

it was of a little kid like me.

The bravest kid there could ever be.

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She was the daughter of the great chief.

He died protecting all from the thief,

who flew in the night stealing their food.

And the cause of their thousand-year feud.

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The girl shortened her father’s long spear.

Then roamed the forest without a fear,

to find who took her father away.

Then slay the dragon, no time for play.

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I laid in bed thinking of all I heard.

Remembered almost all, details blurred.

Woke the next morning ready to go,

to fill in the blanks I didn’t know.

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I went to the shore before sunrise.

I climbed on the rocks. That wasn’t wise.

Had to know if the legend was true,

then fell in from slippery shoe.

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Hit the water with a splash and scream.

I floated down and started to dream.

I woke up much later warm and dry.

But there’s no sign of bright morning sky.

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I felt all around for a way out.

Then saw light from something’s big snout.

I screamed and jumped, bumped my head and then,

I knew I was in that dragon’s den.

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Her nostrils grew bigger, warm and bright.

Would I be cooked for a tasty bite?

She started to laugh and I to cry.

Was I to live or was I to fry?

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She said “Hello” in a dragon tone.

“Glad to see you, I’m always alone.”

I was much surprised to hear her speak.

Her nature was gentle, almost meek.

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Now in the brightness of her warm light.

We sat and chatted into the night.

She told me the truths I had to know.

And when she’s done burping I could go.

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Dragons can wait to burp but it’s slow.

Or blow out flames with a mighty glow.

A truly bad idea, we both think.

So we waited for her belly to shrink.

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We waited and waited for hours or more.

So she could shrink and unblock the door.

And when most all of her gas gone away,

I could slip out to the light of day.

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By now it’s late and dragon’s still plump.

Rocks all around, I sat on my rump.

She spoke of the last to be with her –

It was the littlest dragon slayer.

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“She was three feet tall and very bold,

Not much more than eight or nine years old.

She charged at me with her tiny spear,

tears pouring down, she showed no fear.

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She plunged the stick in my outstretched paw.

She tried pulling it out to poke me some more.

The tip broke off; I’ve had it since then,

tucked away safe in my dragons den.

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The girls cause noble though a mistake.

Her dear father’s life I didn’t take.

He chased me into the dark of night.

Belly swollen, I couldn’t take flight.

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I ran and ran then climbed a tall tree.

But the brave young chief followed me.

He heard some chicks cry out on a limb.

Surviving the wind their chance’s grim.

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Was the branch to weak, he couldn’t be sure.

But reached for the nest and made it secure.

He was a brave man, doing his best.

But fell to his death saving the nest.

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The small girl glad to know what was right.

But she’s still very sad at her loss that night.

It wasn’t my fault but I share the blame.

Though sad, she forgave me all the same.

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While in the forest the rest of that day,

we planned how to keep others away.

I promised to sleep most of the year,

hiding when there are people to scare.

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The slayer agreed to spare my soul.

Keeping her friendship is my life’s goal.

She would try to visit when she could,

into the darkness of the night wood.

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I gave her a claw as proof of who won –

that famous dragon slaying mission.

She wore it always and was admired by all”

I said it was now on the museum’s wall.

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The dragon then shared more of her life,

her times of happiness, times of strife.

There’s never to be any flying at all.

Unless to answer another dragons call.

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Said she’s free to swim under the ice,

but never when the weather is nice.

And while out for her last swim of the year.

I fell in and she found me there.

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She brought me back to her cozy den,

where she’d hibernate all over again.

Our chat ended as her eyes turned red,

her tummy stirring, she warmly said.

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“Please take the tip of the slayers spear,

So you can recall your time spent here.

Think of me fondly now that we’re friends.

And trust that a dragon’s love never ends.”

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She finally burped, I held my nose,

but that’s how a dragon friendship goes.

Then out the backdoor and into the wood,

I ran as fast as ever I could.

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Now thinking, of course of mom and dad,

the sooner I’m back the less they’ll be sad.

Then the rangers soon found me safe and sound.

They were all happy I hadn’t drowned.

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Back at the camp we all hugged and kissed.

I was safe and assured I was missed.

But then all the questions that they had –

Over and over until I got mad!

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They didn’t believe my dragon tale.

I showed them my proof to no avail.

It was thought that my memories blurred –

by all the stories that I had heard.

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Tales of dragons and slayers in the night,

all normal causes of a child’s fright.

A doctor checked the bump on my head,

then sent me back home for time in bed.

.

I’m glad for the friendship of a dragon.

But all in all it wasn’t much fun.

I’ve learned new things and a good lesson had.

That a kid all alone is very very bad!

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And now I’ve shared my legend with you.

Like the slayer’s, it’s mostly all true.

But if you don’t believe I’m sincere –

I’ll show you the tip of that little spear.

.

~:~ the End ~:~

 

 

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Sun Burn

My patience for summer is wearing thin.
The novelty’s over for peeling off skin.
I’m looking forward for autumn to begin,
when cool, crisp morning’s return a grin.
~
The leaves will turn to gold and reds.
They’ll float to the ground nourishing beds.
Rakes will be pulled from overstuffed sheds,
soon replaced with our winter sleds.
~
Christmas and New Year’s, Oh what a blast,
though the warm, cheery feelings never last.
The future’s bitter cold, I long for the past.
The seasons shine on our natures contrast.
~
But spring will come and life’s renewed.
Optimism blooms and reality’s skewed.
Normality is as is the cycle it’s viewed.
With eyes to the stars, the burn subdued.

~*~
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Eyes

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As a child I dreamed to see –

The world through older eyes.

Imagine all that I’ll see –

Growing smart, growing wise.

 

Growing older, wished to see –

A world through younger eyes.

Think of all the things I’ll see –

Some are smiles, some are cries.

 

Then I thought I should see-

The world through others eyes.

Into hearts and minds I’ll see –

All the truths, all the lies.

 

Now I’ve grown and I can see –

A world through my own eyes.

Always open now I see –

A world that’s all surprise.

 

The End

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When?

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If life begins at birth we know of no tomorrows.

If life begins at ten we know of no ends.

If life begins at twenty there’s still time a plenty.

If life begins at thirty it’s time to get flirty.

If life begins at forty it’s time to get naughty.

If life begins at fifty it’s getting kind of iffy.

If life begins at sixty, then have yourself a ball.

If life begins at seventy you had no life at all.

If life begins at eighty than you better take it easy.

If life begins at ninety then better you than me.

If life begins at a century it’s a life most never see.

Every days a surprise, every tomorrow’s a bet.

It doesn’t matter where you start, it’s how far you get.

The End

 

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My Friend and Me

When I was small
My friend was tall
Through my window
It watched me grow

Friends always near
Though winters bare
Waiting for spring
Leaves green, birds sing

Sit in its shade
Memories made
Branches growing
Leaves are glowing

Branches so high
Climb to the sky
Or ride the swing
Picnic to bring

Then soon it’s fall
Colors for all
Float to the ground
Pile in a mound

Jump in and play
Brisk autumn day
Another years past
All sprouting fast

Stood together
In all weather
Leaves shake, wind blows
Hot days, cold snows

When I’m all grown
Out on my own
I’ll miss my tree
And it’ll miss me

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rhymesalot

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When I was small, my friend was tall.

Through my window it watched me grow.

Friends always near though winters bare.

Waiting for spring, leaves green, birds sing.

 

Sit in the shade, memories made.

Arms are growing, leaves are glowing.

Branches so high – climb to the sky.

Or ride the swing, picnic to bring.

 

Then soon its fall, colors for all.

Float to the ground – pile in a mound.

Jump in and play, brisk autumn day.

Another year past all sprouting fast.

 

Leaves shake, wind blows, hot days, cold snows.

We’ve stood together in all-weather.

But when I’m all grown, out on my own.

I’ll miss my tree and it’ll miss me.

 

The End

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My Pencil

My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be

No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity

No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey

Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree

The End       sck081514

Hamper

It’s not just a bin for dirty clothes.

It’s a great place to hide where no one goes.

My favorite place for hide and seek.

No one ever dares to take a peak.

I could stay in there for a week,

But that’s too long not to speak.

And if I never change my clothes,

My hamper never fills, the pile never grows.

My hamper can be a chest for treasure.

With extra socks just for good measure.

Hampers are never quite big enough.

Always too small for all of your stuff.

The bigger the hamper the less room they take.

Fill it right up and room you’ll make.

Some hampers are big, some are small.

Some are just piles, some not there at all.

Some might have handles, liners or lids.

Some come with gadgets to keep out kids.

Hampers never hamper or get in the way.

They’re used for something each and every day.

Mostly an eyesore, mostly unseen.

Hidden in bedrooms, bathrooms or in-between.

They can be baskets or made of wood.

Plastic or metal but a bag’s just as good.

Hampers are magic – things disappear.

Then surprise, something old will be there.

A best friend to have on clean-up day.

They help to decide what can and can’t stay.

They can be luggage when away from home.

The smaller they get the further you roam.

Sometime my hamper is what I long to see,

A familiar moonlit shadow that keeps me company.

My hamper can be a rocket ship,

There’s always space for a lengthy trip.

Or submarine to explore the sea,

It can be anything; it’s up to me.

Some hampers have wheels for delicate dears.

Though not much help on dark cellar stairs.

They can be a target or a catcher’s mitt.

Or a moldy archive for clothes that don’t fit.

Sometime it sits lonely, quiet as a mouse.

Sometime screaming loudly – stinking up the house.

My companion always since I was very small.

The stories it could tell, we really had a ball.

If you’re sad or a little mad, I’ll share a secret trick.

Visit your trusty hamper and give it a little kick.

My hamper and I put on shows; I hope you all will come.

I sing and dance; make up tunes, my hamper is the drum.

Sometimes hampers break, a leaning twisted thing,

Thrown away with no regard to all the joy they bring.

Replaced by a new one with very lofty goals.

Someday we might be friends when it gets some holes.

Whether sparse or cramped you need not have a fear,

The voids will always fill when imaginations there.

Oh – I could wax poetically until the end of time.

But hampers full, its laundry day, time to end this rhyme.

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Lessons

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The more costly the watch the freer the time

The louder the song the looser the rhyme

Turn on the light half the world’s dark

Smell the gas we see with a spark

Life in a bubble called atmosphere

Poking holes without a care

Drink deep from fragile stemmed glass

Candlelit dreams with time to pass

To guess and be wrong a zero gain bet

The higher the proof the more wrong we get

To prove the proof a wasted equation

Pens against bombs can never be won

Words in the air unheard over fuss

Numbers on paper not to discuss

Lessons of life shared by all; never stand, never fall

Never swim, never sink, never thirst, never drink

Always bright much unseen, blind to details in-between

Never laugh, never weep, never dive unless it’s deep

Never leap in the melting caps ice

A lesson we can never learn twice

The End

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To Write

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To write of birth is a one-sided view

To write of the past when all is new

To write of life when opinions are plenty

To write of youth that ends at twenty

~

To write of joy is to write of grief

To write of pain is of no relief

To write of boredom is to never be bored

To write of lust like sports is scored

~

To write of love is to love first

To write of hate your mind will burst

To write of fear the fearful not dare

To write without fear is to write without care

~

To write of lies is to confess

To write of death is just a guess

To write of nothing is no life at all

To write is to write is a writer’s call

~*~

 

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