Jen and Ben #3 – Dad’s Day

Wakey! – Wakey!  it’s morning time.
So says the clock and its chime.
It wakes the twins up every day.
It lets them know it’s time to play.

Jen’s up first, been awake since dawn.
Ben is next after a stretch and yawn.
Kitty’s last with a scratch and a purr.
All’s ready for breakfast that’s for sure.

Today’s milk and toast with jam for Jen.
Always cereal with berries for Ben.
Mom has a muffin and Dad has two.
Kitty has fish and seafood stew.

Mom works today and Dad stays home.
Dad likes to read while Ben likes to roam.
Kitty likes newspaper, but just to chew.
Jen helps dad find where Ben went to.

Ben was found hiding under a sheet.
Couldn’t see his head but saw his feet.
Ben’s much faster than dad believed.
Everyone laughed, Dad was relieved.

Jen picks the clothes, it’s time to get dressed.
Tee shirts and shorts is what they like best.
Sneakers or sandals, that’s hard to decide.
They bring them both and choose on the ride.

They park in the shade near the swing.
It’s a bright sunny day and the birdies sing.
Ben tries to whistle just like the birds.
Jen makes up a song and sings the words.

Dad took a picture with his new phone.
The twins want one, but not ‘till they’re grown.
Ben wants red and Jen wants white.
With a bright shiny light to light up the night.

Jen takes a picture of Ben and dad.
Then tries another because Ben looks sad.
Ben snaps a shot of Jen and dad.
Dad sends them to mom and everyone’s glad.

Dad turns on the speaker to hear mom talk.
All chatted merrily, until Jen takes a walk.
But Jen’s not lost, she’s on the slide.
Ben got scared, he almost cried.

Dad was glad, but a little bit mad.
Jen had to sit and talk to dad.
Ben sat too and gazed to the skies.
Jen rolled in the grass, dad rolled his eyes.

Now all three lay in the tall cool grass.
Watching the clouds and birdies pass.
Jen likes the birds and sings them her song.
She gets up to dance and Ben sings a long.

“Birdies, birdies in the sky,
When I get big I hope to fly.
I’ll fly to grandmas that’ll be great.
I’ll fly all day, but won’t be home late”

Dad starts to whistle Jen’s catchy tune.
Ben tries too and catches on soon.
Jen stomps her feet, her lips are stuck.
She tries and tries without any luck.

They all take a break and sit back down.
Dad helps Jen with her whistling sound.
Now everyone’s happy, the sun smiles bright.
But now’s time to go and make supper for tonight.

The twins both love to play in the park.
If they could they would stay until dark.
But mom’s home soon and they love her more.
There’s hugs and kisses that wait at the door.

Now back in the car and ready to go.
But lunch-time traffic makes the trip slow.
The twins in the back make funny faces.
Dad’s up front, pretending he races.

The trip was long but not very far.
Everyone’s glad to be out of the car.
There’s lunches to make and naps to take.
So we’ll see you all later when the twins awake.

to be continued…

`
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Everlasting

Wedding bells were ringing, tolling strong and loud.
My nephew walked the aisle, standing tall and proud.
His bride by his side, smiles from ear to ear.
Her excitement is quite evident, her feelings are quite clear.
~
First exchanging vows, then a kiss shared.
Their devotion’s on display, truly now declared.
The future is their beacon, a new family’s cast.
Their eyes tell the story of a love to last and last.

~*~
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Patchwork

I woke today in a fog.
But autumn’s now in view.
There’ll be more days of sky high temps,
though fortunately just a few.
~
My body’s burned with a patchwork tan,
the grass a patchwork of brown.
Smiles await bluer skies,
but for now I’ve still a frown.
~
Perhaps today I’ll write a poem,
better than those before.
I used to say that every day,
but now I’m not so sure.
~
Like the seasons, time does change,
creativity comes and goes.
Inspiration’s all around,
but negativity grows and grows.
~
I need a cool crisp morning,
with leaf of red and gold.
Though summers can be wonderful,
this one’s getting old.
~
Maybe it’s just a fantasy,
thinking words will find their way.
Maybe the fantasy’s over,
of being joyous every day.
~
Peering up from my lap,
I see the fog starting to clear.
Though my paper is still blank,
I know a story’s near.
~
My eyes now wide open,
my pencil’s sharp and new.
Optimistically I scribble a word,
the clouds now but few.
~
One word turns to another,
a third leads to a line.
Verses soon will follow,
and again the day is mine.
~
I’m glad this patchwork is over.
And I’m sure that you are too.
I’m thankful for your time today,
my inspiration being you.

~*~
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Jen & Ben’s Afternoon

Jen & Ben – Part 2

~

Back in the car, strapped in their seat

Mom weaves through the lot onto the street

There’s bunches more cars than before

It’ll be a long ride home, that’s for sure

.

Jen’s dozing off with the music down low

Ben tries not to, but he’s starting to go

Mom takes a corner onto their street

Ben perks up, kicking his feet

 .

Today’s long journey was soon to end

Jen wakes up and sees a friend

There are smiles and waves all around

Everyone’s friends in their little town

 .

Jen sees a school bus and wave’s hello

Ben asks mom why they didn’t go

Mom explains that they’ll go soon

Jen wants to go that afternoon

 .

Mom pulls in the drive they unpack the car

Then a break for all, mom plays her guitar

Jen starts dancing, Ben plays drums

Table-top thumping with fingers and thumbs

 .

Now upside down, the hands on the clock

Soon dad will be home and we’ll take a walk

But first is supper and the twins can’t wait

Tonight’s twisty spaghetti’s that’ll be great

 .

Jen likes them cut with not much sauce

Ben likes them long, to slurp of course

There’s green beans and bread on the side

With glasses of milk for pink smiles wide.

 .

Now’s time for dessert, it’s pie with fruit

Mom’s whip cream nose is extra cute

Jen tries it too then Ben and dad

The funniest dessert they’ve ever had.

.

Now’s time to clean up then a short walk

Back at home they make puzzles and talk

The twins get sleepy, bath time’s soon

It’s time to wash off their fun afternoon

 .

Now’s time for bed, time to choose, no concern

Whether the top or bottom, each has a turn

The top has adventures, but dark at night

The bottom’s bunk cozy with never a fright

 .

Ben gets the top, he’s thinking of space

Jen picks the bottom, her quiet place

Mom reads a book, Ben watches the moon

Jens eyes start to close, all to dream soon

 .

Now dad comes in, his turn at dishes done

But everyone’s too tired to have more fun

He reads the last pages of the twin’s new book

Then kisses goodnight, mom takes a last look

 .

Kitty’s close by on her window sill

Dad flicks the switch and all is still

The twins now asleep in their night lights glow

Dreaming of stories they’ll share – tomorrow

 ~

To be continued…

Sck012015

Real Fiction

I sat to write a love poem,
but fiction got in the way.
My heart now is still,
alone another day.
~
Maybe eyes will meet,
there’s smiles shining bright.
Perhaps our hands will touch,
and lead us into the night.
~
Our spirits ever closer,
warming our moonlit stroll.
Our lips free to explore,
the pleasures of our soul.
~
Whispers echo softly,
our bodies intertwine.
I am hers completely,
she’s completely mine.
~
The morning sun will rise,
again eyes will meet.
Our hands again will touch,
a new day we will greet.
~
Our love will last a lifetime,
together we’ll always be.
I’ll write a million love poems,
but for now just fictionality.

~*~
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A Click Away

The poet’s journal’s an open book,
so come on in and take a look.
There are all the emotions to be found,
there’s also thoughts on sight, smell and sound.
~
Pages are filled with love and heartbreak,
with lots more between for give and take.
There’s sunsets galore and sunrises more,
starlit nights and seasons for sure.
~
Sometimes funny, most times not,
it might not be good but there’s a lot.
Bring your glasses and forget the phone,
with a poet to listen you’re never alone.
~
You might be a muse or giver of clues,
I may write a poem about your new shoes.
We’ll sip some coffee in the shade,
the day will end but a friendship made.
~
Our time will be logged with notes on the side,
with a flourish embellished or at least tried.
But if you can’t make it that’s OK too,
it’s all online to be shared with you.

~*~
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Age

Childhood

Suckled, cherished and warm

Blissful frolic to pimpled storm

Time ticks slow then runs fast

Stumbling blind from the past

Experiments with our alien form

*

Youth

Hormone gales cloud the brain

Life is long, much to gain

Time inhibits, much to do

Carefree hands become too few

Past and future collide, no refrain

*

Mid-Life

Inhibitions shrink

Time enables all to think

Second chance ambitions grow

Hands move fast, body slow

Pass the clock with a wink

*

Seniority

Hands of time toil half the day

The other, gravity has its way

Seeds of time sown with care

Golden harvest – time to share

Leaves fall, memories stay

**

The End

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The Seed

~

Colors of autumn, death’s in bloom.

Return to the earth, the seeds’ final tomb,

nourishing yet another season.

We’re all guests of earth for this reason.

~

And thus the surety of life;

prosperity, mediocrity or strife.

All to return to where once came,

regardless of misfortune or fame.

~

For life is but a lesson –

throughout our mortal existence.

A test of our bodies, minds

and hearts persistence.

~

We’re all creatures of the same seed.

Return to the earth, our souls freed.

So let us not perceive death an end –

simply a new life to transcend.

~

For death is the exploration

of dimensions unknown.

And thus the destiny of the seed-

Grown

~

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Adventure Day

.

There’ll be no time for play today.

Because today’s adventure day.

We’re off to clean grandma’s shed.

Door so low dad bumps his head.

.

Lots of stuff for us to see.

Each thing has its own history.

There’s: rakes, shovels, mowers and pails,

Tires and wheels, old boat sails.

.

A big and rusty nut-less bolt

And a shoe for a shoe-less colt,

Sleds and skis, skates, paddles and oars,

Broken windows and old wood doors.

.

Crates and bins, barrels and jars,

guitar made from box of cigars,

Dad’s reaching for things up high.

Mom thumbs a scrapbook, tear in eye.

.

The treasure’s you find when you look;

cushion for chair and long lost book,

toy box from when dad was a kid

with missing hinge and broken lid.

.

I had to put that one aside.

To fill with treasure that I’ll hide.

And keep it safe for mom and dad

with memories, adventures had.

.

Sheds empty, our jobs half way.

Sifting and sorting all long day.

Next are lunch and maybe a nap.

Then spend some time on grandma’s lap.

.

To the street go things we don’t use;

hand less clock and half pair of shoes.

Forgotten treasures go away.

Some I’ll keep while others will stay.

.

It’s grandma’s play house in the shade.

But in the yard five piles we made.

One to save, two we don’t know,

one’s maybe, the small one can go.

.

So many things for grandma to do,

when our shed adventure is through .

She can paint pictures or pot plants,

maybe yoga – go in a trance.

.

A final sweep and all is clean.

The nicest shed I’ve ever seen.

Now’s time to put back things to keep.

All stacked neat, not too high or deep.

.

The dust is gone that made us sneeze.

But no space left for new hobbies.

Dads hurt his back, moms tummy aches.

From our lunch of burgers and shakes.

.

But grandma’s happy and me too.

We’re all glad the mission is through.

Our adventure had, job well done.

Memories made of having fun.

.

Dad’s old chest safe under my bed.

Memories tucked safe in my head.

And now’s time to say goodnight.

Adventure’s done, out goes the light.

~*~

The End

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Time for Time-Out

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Time for time-out it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

*

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

*

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

*

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

*

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

*

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that isn’t all.

*

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

*

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

*

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

*

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

*

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

*

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

*

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

*

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

*

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

*

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

*

The End

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https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

Wheels

~

I like wheels – that’s what I like.

Cars or trucks or a motor bike,

wheels make me smile and grin.

Some wheels spin in wind on a pin.

~

I wish I had wheels on my feet.

Then I can zoom down the street.

Up the ramp and flying high,

wheeling through the open sky.

~

I wish I had wheels on my chair.

I could get things way over there.

I could scoot in my stocking feet.

Or reach things high standing on seat.

~

Wheels go round and round in my head.

I wish I had wheels on my bed.

Then I can drive to all my dreams.

Win all the races, hear crowd screams.

~

In the garage, my wheels parked there.

Soon I’ll be out, wind in my hair.

First kick tires, adjust the seat.

Polish the chrome isn’t she sweet.

~

Check the mirror so I can see,

everything – way behind me.

Yes – riding fast is what I like.

On all three wheels of my trike.

~*~

The End

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Unveiled

On a canvas our lives are drawn,
born of purity, thrust into dawn.
Colors seduce, every stroke another day,
our every action a shade of gray.
~
Hardships endured many tears ago,
the pain forgotten, losses to forever show.
With each scar we’re sculpted, our hands bear the tools.
Minds write the stories of masters and fools.
~
Covers ever changing as we choose,
pages between paid our dues.
Lines filled in, some hues gone astray.
Upon our death the frame we’ll display.

~*~
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