The dreaded day is coming,
it makes the poet cringe.
Their ink is overflowing,
all the world will binge.
Heartfelt words sculpted,
sent to loved ones who are dear.
Stress is soon to peak,
the deadline’s growing near.
“I love you” bought and sold,
drug stores sell out fast.
But first the prediction,
then the shadows cast.
Winter winds still blowing,
heat’s felt in the heart.
The pressure now’s building,
for another Valentines’ start.
Change is in the air,
it’s felt on the breeze.
The clock quickly ticking,
the wind-up’s been a tease.
The future is before us,
Knowledge fills our heads,
yet we’re truly blind.
We’ve hopes for better days,
dreaming of peace and love.
While fearing the unknown,
we seek to rise above.
Yesterday’s now gone,
yet only now’s for sure.
surprises feel strange.
Seconds are our choices,
yet only time will change
Life no longer matters when we’re cold and dead.
Words have no meaning when stuck inside our head.
Heartache is abundant; it’s filled many a book.
But happiness exists, but only when we look.
Depression is alarming but seldom makes a sound.
Time can be our friend but only when we’re wound.
Surprises are unexpected and nothing’s ever free.
Love is everlasting but two must agree.
Share yourself with others and they will do the same.
Hide your true emotions and only you’re to blame.
Strangers often meet but not all will be a friend.
So if you find the right one, show them there’s no end.
I woke today to see the sun,
to watch it rise my day begun.
But the clouds got in the way.
So I’ll have to wait another day.
But life goes on as it should.
I wouldn’t change it if I could.
A day of gray won’t get me down.
I’m alive, so I can’t frown.
A start is good, but to finish is best.
The time between is just a test.
We make the grade when we rise.
And see the world through others’ eyes.
The dawn was brilliant somewhere for sure.
And sunny thoughts will warm the pure.
So today I write in the dimmest of light,
surely better than endless night.
I’ve seen the dark as many do.
Ups and downs are nothing new.
But clouds do part and linings exposed.
So I’ll save the gloom till my eyes stay closed.
My poor guitar’s in need of strumming.
My morning poem’s not forthcoming.
Seems a house weighs on my brain.
Some might say that I’m insane.
But in the hills where trees abound,
behind a stone wall my paradise found.
A storied life I’m sure it’s had.
The next chapter’s mine and I’m glad.
Its life began in seventeen twenty.
Surely there are creaks and drafts aplenty.
It’s quite unusual, just one of a few.
It’s also quite large, it’s almost two.
Are there spirits? I don’t know.
But if there are I’m sure they’ll show.
And if there’s not that’s OK.
Maybe I’ll be one someday.
Some may think that we’re surely nuts.
And others might think we’re blind.
But all would agree,
life’s much better when intertwined.
Some might say that it just can’t be.
While others may say there’s no way.
But all could agree,
our love grows stronger every day.
Some may just dismiss it as luck.
While others might feel that we’re blessed.
But all should agree,
what we have is truly the best.
When values are charismatic
and thought becomes plutocratic,
participation is devoid.
Then hardship is systematic.
When this world seems dramatic
and our head’s full of static,
anger’s then employed.
And hate becomes pragmatic.
When life, it seems erratic
and joy becomes sporadic,
worry fills the void.
Then the gloom is traumatic.
When time itself is problematic
and the future’s enigmatic,
trust is then destroyed.
And solitude becomes symptomatic.
But when we are diplomatic
and compassion’s automatic,
violence we avoid.
Then love is democratic.