I got up nice and early to start the day off right.
It was the perfect start to end a perfect night.
My dreams now have passed and my eyes open wide.
Thoughts of love still linger and the smile I can’t hide.
My sweetheart sleeps blissfully as my coffee starts to brew.
The sun gleams with spender and the sky’s a perfect blue.
I’ll wake her soon with a kiss, her body close to mine.
She’ll ask me how I’m feeling. I whisper “with you, always fine”
She’ll rise to the sunshine, her eyes glowing bright.
Her face will beam with joy and life is feeling right.
Our day will pass with laughter and love from the heart.
The sunset then boldly welcomes yet another perfect start.
Time’s now free ahead but paths now less long.
Choices now still many but chances fewer to be wrong.
Though wrong turns will inevitably crash,
the time is now for another splash.
Playing it safe will always be good.
And being reckless we never should.
Should I sit quietly and wither happily away?
Or awake with zeal to conquer the day?
Questions are hard and answers are cheap.
Actions we’ve made are what we’ll keep.
But time will come when time won’t matter.
We’ll lay alone, our bodies in tatter.
Our minds will wander to what was known.
Our eyes will close to see we’re grown.
Points beyond are for us to decide.
The end’s the same, but for the ride.
I sit at the kitchen table waiting for thoughts to come.
So far none’s forthcoming; I’m hoping there’ll be some.
Time is quickly passing as I stare off into space.
If wasting time were a sport I know I’d win the race.
But words don’t run on tracks and thoughts know no time.
But if patience is a virtue then waiting is no crime.
Procrastination is a different thing, results will find away.
It’s a choice that we make to give away our say.
Yesterdays’ may be gone but our actions will remain.
Mistakes made along the way will leave a lasting stain.
We wake each day to change, thinking everything’s the same.
But time moves only forward and tomorrows’ we cannot tame.
We’ll take our deepest breath and dive in head first.
We try to make the biggest splash to satisfy our thirst.
The volumes fill up fast, their content is our own.
The good we see in others reflects on how we’ve grown.
The time is getting late and I’m fading fast.
Why must the future wait while sleeping off the past?
So I’ll wait another day for something new to write.
The winter blues are passing and mornings looking bright.
Optimism’s on the rise though heights often chill.
Pessimism is an easy fall but the bottom is no thrill.
Windows will soon be open and fresh starts will appear.
And those webs in the attic just need the spring to clear.
When time and luck do collide,
our good fortunes cannot hide.
Eyes will open for a special day.
Doors will open and we’re on our way
We never know what lies ahead,
footsteps lead to where we’re led.
Eyes will open to a special sense.
The past is now our best defense.
Prepared are we to stand alone,
arms outreached, our distance flown.
Eyes open for a special one.
Hearts open and the future begun.
Bound as one we’ll double our best,
joy and bliss will know no rest.
Eyes will open to our special place.
Wound are we with a special face.
Hands of time will gently sweep.
Ups and downs we’ll deftly leap.
Eyes open for another special day.
Doors locked and in love we’ll stay.
One more month and spring is here.
When freezing to death’s no longer a fear.
We’ll pack our sweaters, hats and coats.
Soon the bay will fill with boats.
Flowers will bloom and temps will rise.
Trees will green before longing eyes.
Days get longer, nights a bit cool.
But now we wait, because time’s cruel.
I don’t hate winter or the cold.
But those months are growing old.
I do like autumn but spring is still best.
So for one more month I’ll just rest.
I pulled a trigger and I’m not proud.
There was no blood but it sure was loud.
I said some things I shouldn’t have said.
Words shot out and stuck in their head.
My friends’ brain exploded, oh what a mess.
It was a poor choice of words I do confess.
I brought up a secret from long, long ago.
I thought it resolved but I guess not so.
Should I be silent or edit my speech?
What is OK and what’s out of reach.
I’m sure they’ll call when the wound heals.
I’ve been there before, I know how it feels.
Years have gone by with never a slip,
while I watched them drown, sip by sip.
Was it so bad to call them a drunk?
Am I a bad guy, an ass or a punk?
I know it’s a sickness and not their fault.
But why’s intervention seen as an assault?
When they’re sober maybe then they’ll see,
they pulled that trigger long before me.
My mind’s blank but I can’t complain,
it’s certainly better than being insane.
But if I was, how would I know?
Would I feel high or way down low?
Would I be happy or angry or sad?
Would I be good or be really bad?
Could I still write? Could it be read?
Would I know if I were alive or dead?
Would I be recognized by friends I meet?
Would I wander aimlessly up and down the street?
Would there be a reason for the questions I ask?
Could I complete a minimal task?
Would I care or would I hide in shame?
Or would my life be pretty much the same?
I don’t have the answers, at least not today.
But if I’m asking, I’m probably OK.
On the lookout for my last place to dwell,
some were OK, some looked like hell.
Seen a grand old home in a bad part town,
but it was too high and they wouldn’t come down.
We saw one so scary, ghosts wouldn’t live there.
I’m picky I know but I think that I’m fair.
My home now is charming; I’ve been here for years.
Saying goodbye I’ll probably shed tears.
I’m close to a harbor and a quaint Main street.
My neighbors are close but mostly discrete.
I have no garage and I’d like some land.
I’d prefer something wooded to the beach sand.
Though a lakeside retreat would surely be fun,
I’d soon be drowned paying for one.
I’d like something older and properly restored.
I don’t need a hobby cos I’m never bored.
I don’t need a compound or a pasture for beasts.
But a barn would be nice to house family feast.
So the search goes on, but I’ve no worries or fright.
It’s like finding true love; you know when it’s right.
Words can be simple, instructions often not.
Some can build a future, most just forgot.
I claim no bias; I share what’s been seen.
I note what I’ve heard, the answers in between.
Not everyone with wealth has money.
Not all are as sweet as honey.
Most work hard and stay in one place.
Some open doors with the smile on their face.
While some are truly brilliant, some are not so bright.
Most are simply average, some see the light.
Happiness is free, misery has a cost.
Choose the right direction and never feel lost.
I don’t think I’m old, though getting up in years.
I’ve had my share of laughter and shed many tears.
I write every day and I try not to preach.
But to share your love with others nothing’s out of reach.
Mornings hide in darkness to an untrained eye.
Light fills the mind. Who needs a sunlit sky?
Wheel’s always turning; they get us here and there.
Thought moves us forward, making us aware.
Hate infects the soul, love mends a heart.
Memories fill the void at times when apart.
Words can flow like water, but not all fit to drink.
Edits smooth the surface the deeper that we think.
Actions set in motion the motives of our will.
Results always happen regardless of our skill.
Infants of the night, stars will guide the way.
The universe is infinite or so our eyes will say.
Seeing is absolute, visions much less clear.
Plans are two dimensional stumbling on a sphere.
Life’s full of surprises, full of good and bad.
Time is unpredictable, why would some choose sad.
Poets make predictions, half are mostly true.
Honesty measures accuracy, what shade of gray are you?
Poems can be too lengthy with no end in sight.
I’m predicting this is one, so I’ll say goodnight.
With Valentine’s Day now over,
it’s time to think of clover.
The reds have left the room,
now’s time for greens to bloom.
Soon Saint Paddy will have their say.
And everyone’s Irish for that one day.
We’ll all feel lucky and have great fun.
Our joy will be shared, all as one.
Like the four seasons the clover has four leaves.
And luck too will change as one believes.
While some things are real, some we choose to see.
And like a Valentine nothing’s ever free.
The winter soon will end, spring’s almost here.
Summer and autumn will complete our year.
Though another year older we’re a bit more wise.
Think every day a holiday but without the lies.
Share a toast with someone new.
Pick a flower for a special few.
And show your love to all your friends.
Then our holidays will have no ends.
Cupid’s precise with arrow and bow,
eyes tear as these words flow.
Emotion’s flood from every pore,
love’s felt to my very core.
Heart’s beating our lives song,
all’s been noted and nothing’s wrong.
We’ll paint our future clear and bright.
The darkness past now filled with light.
Our canvas is large with more to grow.
Our vision’s grand and we now know,
I am hers and she is mine,
now to each a forever Valentine.
Another day of quitting to quit,
another day to feel like a twit.
My morning had started pretty well,
but as the day warmed so did my hell.
So I jumped in my car to cool my head,
but took a wrong turn and to the store I sped.
I bought some milk and tobacco too.
Then I limped home and smoked till blue.
Tomorrow’s gladly another day.
I’ll rise optimistic with demons at bay.
Boiling water the urges will swell.
The heat will be on then back to hell.
Will I submit or stand and fight?
The battle lost the end’s in sight.
But now it’s to bed to dream as I do.
Will there be many or be just a few?
I once was a young man,
but that was yesterday.
I thought I’d grow much greater,
but time got in my way.
I still have hopes and dreams,
hoping to dream some more.
But with every day that passes,
waking is less sure.
I see my ups and downs;
it’s my foot on the gas.
I hear the no, no, no’s,
but still I try to pass.
I try to write a little bit;
I’d love to write a song.
I’ve tried to write a novel,
but they always take too long.
I shouldn’t write about myself,
though I often do.
Every second a memory’s made,
gladly I choose so few.
I couldn’t be a luckier guy,
and fortunately once again.
I’m thankful for this love I’m given,
even though I’m a pain.
So is the end of another Valentine’s Day,
all the confetti’s been vacuumed away.
Cards now stored neatly in a special drawer.
Dying flowers are thinned till there are no more.
The romantic dinner’s now just a memory.
The dessert was great but sure wasn’t free.
There are two candies left no one will eat,
one’s missing a bite and the other’s no treat.
Her dress was stained from wine I spilled.
The rest of the night I thought I’d be killed.
We woke the next morning and she’s still peeved.
But I’m still alive, so I was relieved.
I tried to kiss her and she yelled “go away!”
Then she went off about ruining her day.
The whole event gave me a terrible scare.
But all’s good now cos it was just a nightmare.
Our lives are full of laughter and bliss.
To not be thankful I’d be remiss.
So my gratitude’s shown at every chance.
My emotions stirred with every glance.
We snuggle close every single night.
Then snuggle again in the morning light.
With hugs and kisses all day long,
this love we share should be a song.
Flowers and candy are no big deal;
our passion’s sweeter and forever real.
And when every day is just like mine,
then every day’s a Valentine.
A brother and sister went for a walk.
They laughed out loud and had a talk.
Time flew by as they hiked the trail.
They sat for a break but their lunch was stale.
The shadows grew long as the sun sank low.
Which way was home, they didn’t know.
With all seeming lost there’s no place to hide.
If light’s to be seen they’ve only stars to guide.
Paths disappear beneath feet unseen.
Hands reach out for some space between.
The sounds of night are now loud and clear.
Eyes open wide seeing nothing but fear.
Imagination filled their weary heads.
The siblings now dreamt of their cozy beds.
But attention’s gone when fantasy’s there.
The pair separate and nightmares they share.
Shrieks and howls soon filled the wood.
The children screamed as they should.
Hours melted and death was thought.
Then a flashlight seen and home they’re brought.
Yesterday’s thoughts written today,
is tomorrow’s poem on display.
Feelings recorded and colors felt,
the past is gone and hand’s dealt.
So I sit with a pad and pen,
soon I’ll write but I know not when.
Will it be happy or a little bit sad?
It may not be good but something’s not bad.
My heart beats and music is heard,
the world’s often dark and time’s blurred.
Life and art blend together as one,
eyes open the bleedings begun.
The flow consumes and words appear,
for now scattered but without fear.
Steps taken are sure to teach,
that love abounds at arm’s reach.
The morning today was gray,
but the groundhog’s done his thing.
With only a few weeks to go,
we’re soon to hear the birdies sing.
Flowers are soon to blossom,
trees will soon be green.
The air will be growing warmer,
bees will soon be seen.
Bug bites soon will fester;
poison ivy’s soon to itch.
Rain will pour in buckets,
isn’t the spring a bitch.
I could be optimistic,
glad that the winter’s gone.
I should be really happy,
cos soon I’ll see my lawn.
But with the season’s change,
our time too does pass.
And as I grow ever older,
I’m becoming a pain in the ass.
My pad today was totally blank,
it’s the bliss I feel I have to thank.
I woke up early to see the sunrise;
the truth was there before my eyes.
My darling slumbers peacefully,
her dreams, I’m sure, are with me.
And as the dark turns to light,
I’ve warm thoughts of our cozy night.
Seems all the negatives have burned away,
now only pluses fill my day.
I’ll wake her soon and my sun will shine.
I’ll kiss her softly, truly thankful she’s mine.
The kisses returned with a smile,
and then we’ll chat and giggle a while.
We’ll both then rise for our day anew.
And we’ll share our bliss, now times two.
The groundhog’s soon to wake, but I don’t really care.
I’m always warm and cozy any time of year.
Winters always pass and spring will always follow.
Summers heat the flesh, autumn the vibrancy we all know.
Nights share their endless stars, days our lives are bright.
Time’s just the space between. The universe knows what’s right.
Friends and family fill our needs, puts our minds at ease.
A special someone shares it all and all that we please.
Mine’s lovely in the morning and more beautiful by noon.
Evenings’ she’s truly stunning beneath the glowing moon.
She’s innocent when sleeping, a little naughty when she’s not.
And I am overjoyed with this special love we’ve got.
Hand in hand and toes to toes,
we’re cheek to cheek and nose to nose.
Intermeshed we’re holding tight,
bliss is shared in the morning light.
Our hearts melting in winter skies,
volumes heard in her dreamy eyes,
The sun is shining and spring is near.
Though not to hurry, our love is here.