Month: November 2014

A Day on the Farm

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

The sun’s our clock, rooster alarm.

Up to start a day on the farm.

Fresh air and sunshine all long day.

Eat our breakfast then on our way.

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I put on my boots, coat and hat.

And find a glove under the cat.

Out the door to the bunnies hutch.

They eat  pellets they don’t like much.

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My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

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Next we’re off to feed the plump hens.

Gather eggs, clean muddy pig pens.

We’ll hose it down then slop the sows.

Grab our pails and milk the cows.

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Feed the mare, sleeps in the sable.

I’ll ride her soon when I’m able.

First she’s brushed then gets oats and hay.

We do all these things twice a day

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In the garden, vegetables grow.

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Snow

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

Soon it’s fall, but first back to school,

days getting shorter, nights get cool.

Then the winter and with it snow,

wrapping the world in its glow.

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We’ll build forts, make balls to throw.

So many things to do in the snow,

sledding and skiing, rolling in white.

Hoping for more snow every night.

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Morning’s good news, stay home from class.

Fun things to do with time to pass,

make a snowman with rocks for eyes,

that see’s all in cold winter skies.

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We’ll stay in and play or just talk.

Then shovel a long path to walk,

to the street though nowhere to go.

Everything’s closed because of the snow.

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Crusty piles; high, dirty and gray,

wetter and smaller each new day.

Snowman’s withered, springs on the way,

time to make up for our snow day.

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Waking one morning, snow’s no more,

instead there’s flowers by…

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Lined  

Drawing lines.

Building shrines.

Slicing time.

Hiding grime.

Poets paint.

Painters rhyme.

Good guys kill,

for the crime.

Bad guys kill,

for the lust.

Bankers earn,

for the trust.

Numbers lie.

Trust we must.

Letters shade.

Muddles made.

Shades of gray.

Sunless day.

Stormy winds.

Erase our way.

Time will dawn.

New life drawn.

Drawing lines.

~*~

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Hannah Belles Silence –the beginning

Purple skies yell good night to their dozing sun.

Fire lights the shadows, the nights day’s just begun.

Shades pulled on lives within without the stars to guide.

A ball is had in the deep, dancing to rhythms of tide.

 

Partners forever splash to wash away the light

Din of life slowly fades to the deafening of night.

Eyes shutter, Door hinges squeak there last, and new hands draw air.

Breathing in the day’s last taste, dark of night’s only fair.

 

While others rest, days run on to beat the clock.

Gates alive awake the walks to open doors that need no lock.

Welcoming all workers be, busily buzzing to make life sweet.

Nights or days at Hannah Belles employ a tasty treat.

 

Chimes ring out in the square, alerting all to what’s behind.

Reminding all of what’s ahead and afoot and to jog the mind.

Bottomless pools dot the streets, journeys take forever.

There’s joyous voices all around and angry silence never.

 

Another day in Hannahville, they feed the smiles everywhere.

This factory called Hannah Belle glows without a care.

Whether color gloss or moustache size, styles change, lips stay the same.

Visitors wait in a thin line to leave robust and always glad they came.

 

 

First chapter from Hannah Belles Silence (Charlie passes the candy torch)

 Coming soon to virtual bookstore near you.

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