Reflections

In a mirror we see what we feel.
In a lover’s eyes we see what’s real.
The face you see is the one that’s yours.
A glowing smile when you open doors.
~
Lips will say “I love you so”.
Hearts then beat because you know.
Eyes twinkle with every greeting.
Arms hold at every meeting.
~
The future’s embraced without pain.
Time then passes on a different plane.
Truth enlightens when two are near.
Reflections insure the vision’s clear.

~*~
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A Day In The Life

The sun rises to start a new day.
I awoke to a smile beaming my way.
The smile returned with a good morning kiss.
Our day’s now started in good morning bliss.
~
Work’s to follow and time apart,
but smiles remain because of our start.
Memories flash as the minutes creep by.
I’ll count those seconds till home I’ll fly.
~
With my head in the clouds, I’ll open the door,
greeted with love by the one I adore.
The sunset we’ll share embraced as one,
our day’s now over and our evening begun.

***

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Poetic Injustice

Afloat in red stilettos, hair, nails and lips

Shimmering in black satin, taught about the hips

Blue green eyes sparkle as they glance my way

Smile wide across her face, yet I’ve nothing to say

*

Subtle hand reaching softly touches mine

Nervously reacting I nearly spilled her wine

Leaning ever closer, whispering in my ear

Sweet sounds alluring, words I’ve dreamt to hear

*

Standing stunned, throbbing chest

Twisted tongue on a tortured quest

A racing mind all aflutter

An uncertain stutter I did utter

*

With this mutter she did chortle

A pen less poet’s just a mortal

~*~

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Patchwork

~*~
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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.

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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Too Many Words

Dreams lie,
poets cry.
Change’s new,
writing’s blue.
Hearts torn,
minds worn.
Sleepless nights,
emotion ignites.
Passion’s hot,
indecision’s not.
Seeking clues,
negativity spews.
Future’s debatable,
perfection’s unattainable.
Happiness eludes,
fear exudes.
Trust questioned,
turmoil’s destined.
Bodies tired,
decision’s required.
Feelings askew,
answers few.
Love shared,
time’s dared.
Yesterday’s die,
tomorrows fly.
Today’s through.
What am I to do?

~*~
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Bang

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.

~*~
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