The dawn of a new year,
its light yet to shine.
Seconds unresolved,
awaiting times’ design.
~
The future shares no clues,
the past our only guide.
Imagination moves us forward.
Darkness is where we hide.
~
Fractions divide realities.
Dawn varies on this sphere.
When your sun arises;
imagine a peaceful new year.
~*~
SCK123123
A brush paints canvas
A hand fills skies
The mind paints tomorrows
The heart paints eyes
~
A shadow fills clutter
The painter’s little lies
The landscapes image disappears
The portrait never dies
*
Sck110114
I woke today, yippee ki-yay.
I rushed downstairs to welcome the gray.
A little rain won’t make me blue.
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’ve much to do.
~
Resolutions are needed, more than a few,
but first a cup of my favorite brew.
The aroma awakens my primal needs.
My pad awaits my list of good deeds.
~
I’ll be less lazy and help pluck the weeds.
I’ll write about something everyone reads.
I’ll be nicer to friends and all others.
I’ll treat everyone like sisters and brothers,
~
I’ll respect this world as fathers and mothers.
I’ll throw a big party if given my druthers.
I’ll try to eat better and not get too plump.
I’ll waste less time perched on my rump.
~
I’ll smile more and not be a grump.
I’ll speak more kindly and be less of a chump.
I’ll say “I love you” every single day.
And I’ll start this New Year the very best way.
~*~
SCK123120
Toys are broken, now back to school.
Christmas is over, mom said that’s cool.
She rushed our breakfast packing our lunch.
My brother made faces, I gave him a punch.
~
He threw a banana, it hit mom’s head.
She spilled the milk, her face turned red.
Our dog ran in to save the day.
He licked up the milk and wanted to play.
~
We gave him some scratches and a treat.
Then mom tied shoes too tight on our feet.
We put on our hats, mittens and coats.
Mom packed our bags with books and notes.
~
We walked to the bus stop to meet our friends.
The bus pulled up and our vacation now ends.
The parents all smiled and waved goodbye.
Then home they went for some needed shut-eye.
~*~
SCK010521
The season is upon us,
Christmas is almost here.
Trees are going up,
lights are everywhere.
~
Stores are getting crowded,
traffic’s now a mess.
Shoppers fill the streets,
more than I would guess.
~
Some lists are getting shorter,
mine has far to go.
But no time to worry,
I hope it doesn’t snow!
~
Kids are getting excited;
they know the day is near.
Adults too are frazzled,
overwhelmed by all the cheer.
~
There’re stockings to be filled,
then stockings to explore.
Goodies there are waiting,
a welcome end for sure.
~*~
SCK120823
Chapter 1 ~ The Beginning
All’s quite this early winter’s night.
Embers fade in the candles dancing light.
I was thinking of Christmas, many years past.
Those fond old memories now fading fast.
I recalled when our home came alive.
I was just a small girl of about five.
It was a grand old house for mom, dad and me.
Sat perched on a hill overlooking the sea.
It’s still a museum in our little town.
It was built by a General of historic renown.
Shared with his bride Martha, she had a sad life.
The General’s a hero, she a young widowed wife.
We cared for the house and gave the tours.
All year long we opened our doors.
We welcomed the guest to step back in time.
So come on in and share our rhyme.
I lay awake and tossed and turned.
Thinking of school and all I learned.
Letters and numbers and new friends,
I hope kindergarten never ends.
My thought disturbed by shapes on the wall,
a moonlit dance, shadows big and small.
It pranced to my table that’s set for tea.
There’s a seat for Teddy and Dolly plus one for me.
It climbed the chair with a dancer’s grace.
She must be a girl with a whiskered face.
Dolly left some crumbs on her plate.
When I remembered it was too late.
I Left a treat each night for a week.
I tried staying awake to catch a peek.
I’ll call her Martha, like our homes bride
But when I giggled she ran to hide.
Chapter 2 ~ New Friends
The days passed, she’d visit most nights.
She kept unseen until I turn out the lights.
She knows I’m cozy in my warm bed.
She smiles and winks, thankful she’s fed.
One night I waited, still in my chair.
Starlight warmed the chilly night air.
Eyelids dropped like the falling moon.
I hope my visitor gets here soon.
Night turned to day, feet cold on the floor.
I missed my friend but goodies no more.
The next night I brought a cookie to bed.
I woke with my new friend by my head.
Days got colder, Christmas was near.
I looked forward to the snacks we share.
Each passing night our friendship grows.
We chat and laugh, I scratch her nose.
Thanksgiving’s past, Santa’s on his way.
The tree goes up, brighter each day.
We’re happy to welcome all our new guests,
while I wore my new colonial dress.
I tell them of the homes long past,
Of all that’s lived here, my family last.
I tell them of their history.
But never a word of Martha and me.
On the last day of school before the break,
we celebrated with carols and cake.
We shared cards and hugs then on our way.
We’re off to the bus and our long holiday.
Glad to be home, much to be done.
Baking and wrapping with mom will be fun.
I think Christmas is the best time of year.
There’s lots of visits from friends far and near.
Chapter 3 ~ Good and Bad
It’s not just gifts that makes Christmas best.
It’s all the excitement, no time for rest.
One snowy day mom and I went to town.
Main Street’s so merry, never a frown.
When we returned from our last minute shop,
we saw a truck with a light on top.
A man in a hardhat talked with my dad.
They both spoke quietly and looked very sad.
My parents whispered, thought I didn’t hear.
Something’s was broken too much to repair.
Said we’re leaving, where they don’t know.
I loved our home and didn’t want to go.
I gave the last tour on that very sad day.
We finished our cocoa with little to say.
Mom read aloud then kissed me goodnight.
Dad tucked me in, turned out the light.
I lay sobbing at the loss of our house.
No new friends, no Martha the mouse.
I then had a plan and ran for my bank.
Shook out the coins and my little heart sank.
Martha came close, she knew I was sad.
I forgot the snacks but she wasn’t mad.
We counted my pennies in moonlight,
then crept downstairs later that night.
We tucked my bank under the tree.
It’s for our old house from Martha and me.
But one last thing and then back to bed,
a snack for Martha and a pat on her head.
My dad woke me early that Christmas day.
I knew he was sad, he smiled anyway.
We met mom in the hall, headed downstairs.
We all acted happy while holding back tears.
Chapter 4 ~ New Beginnings
The cookies were gone, Santa was here.
Beneath the tree, present are there.
But shocked to see something I’d never seen.
There are stacks of coins, sleeping mice in between.
They ate Santa’s cookies then took a nap.
All snuggled together in the Christmas wrap.
Sleeping soundly until mom screams.
Then all were awakened from their dreams.
Martha stood out front and winked at me.
She waved me over to come and see.
The piles of treasure they found last night.
That was lost under the floorboards out of sight.
The Generals treasure, his coins of gold.
There’s enough to fix our homes splendor of old.
Martha saved our house and Christmas too.
She helped write this rhyme to share with you.
From all of us here at our house of fun,
we’re glad to have shared our time as one,
We wish you the all best this holiday.
And may all your days be just your way.
The End
Steve Kittell 120114
Before you take me home tonight, I have but one confession.
I don’t make any money as a writer by profession.
I’ve been working on a novel or two.
I’ve written some poems, quite a few.
.
Most daily labors bore me; don’t like doing what I’m told.
I’m also a procrastinator, keeps me from getting old.
While any man can give you his body, soul and heart,
I can give you all those things and a life of art.
.
They can scribble little notes sent with a store-bought rose.
I will pick you wildflowers each with personal prose.
Oh, I can see by your look I’ve said far too much.
But these words will easily stop when our lips touch.
.
Our eyes can share visions; our books can share a shelf.
Our unpenned paper hearts will create a poetry of self.
I don’t need an answer now, just a maybe and a smile will do.
So when we meet again someday, I may turn a page for you.
~
Sck122214
With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
~
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
~
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.
~*~
SCK120218
Fancy wrap can’t hide from my eyes,
A gift that’s familiar in shape and size.
It’s the present that I adore.
They’re the toy that’s never a bore.
*
They’re a box of possibilities,
a forest full of Christmas trees.
A blanket of snow and garlands bright,
with a flicker of lights in the night.
*
They’re singing birdies just for me,
or a sailing ship on a stormy sea.
They’re autumn play and a summer breeze,
the colors of spring and buzzing bees.
*
With this one gift I’ll need no-more.
It’s a box of sixty-four!
There are colors for sad and more for glad.
They’re all perfect and none are bad.
*
What endless choices to be found.
But what is the color of sound?
What is the color of a kiss?
I’ll someday find those colors amiss.
*
They’re jewels in a treasure chest.
Something shared with a special guest.
We draw and print or color books,
while snuggled in our secret nooks.
*
I’m glad they float, though labels’ lost.
Nothing left to be peeled and tossed.
Then guides are gone for shades unknown.
But I’ll know them all, when I’m grown.
*
My cat swats greens under my bed.
My dog’s favorite to eat is red.
We all roll fast and giggle for more.
When they’re like bearings on the floor.
*
We build rainbows to the sky.
Stacked like logs to make towers high.
We lose the ones we like the best.
Then have extras of all the rest.
*
They’re a gift that’s always welcome.
They’re used up quick or saved by some.
Look what Harold did with just one.
My sixty-four are much more fun.
*
Stored neat in a box with a lid that flips,
and a hole on the back to sharpen tips.
Enough to share with all my friends,
we can draw a line that never ends.
*
Though mostly used sparingly,
tucked safe in a drawer, just for me.
They somehow seem to go away.
And just in time for Christmas day.
*
The End
SCK100815
The day was frigid with snow piles high;
reindeer would never ever try to fly.
I hoped I wasn’t missed by Santa’s speeding sleigh.
Who can be called to postpone Christmas day?
~
I looked out the window at snow all day.
It was a day too cold to go outside and play.
Stores were closed and phone lines were down.
Street lights were flickering all over town.
~
Dad read some books and we played with blocks.
Mom knitted dad new Christmas knee-socks.
Our oven was warm so I sat close in my chair.
I was waiting for cookies for us all to share.
~
Our Christmas Eve had now just begun.
But supper was first before more fun.
The radio played softly out in the hall.
Eve, our shepherd chewed on her ball.
~
While sipping cocoa, I got foam on my nose.
Dad told a joke about a nose that glows.
Mom stacked some presents, but just a few.
She put Grandma’s aside, I had two.
~
We all went to bed with our flashlights ready.
I got tucked in and snuggled with teddy.
I couldn’t sleep thinking of all the snow.
And how Santa could see where he should go.
~
But when he gets here, he’d need a rest.
A warm comfy chair would be the best.
Maybe more cookies will help him to sleep.
So I slipped out of bed without a peep.
~
I went down to the kitchen on tippy toe.
The night lights flickered from the wind and snow.
The hallway was dark, it seemed longer than before.
The handle looked higher on the old kitchen door.
~
With each step a creak that sounded like “nooo…”
Each step I take I thought I shouldn’t go.
But go I must for old Santa’s sake.
Even Santa must need a break.
~
I’m sure he has other places to go.
How he does it I’ll never know.
But I’m glad to lend him a helping hand.
So he can have a rest that wasn’t planned.
~
Before I knew it the handle was near.
Reaching up I turned it without fear.
I opened the door and to my surprise,
Eve stayed asleep and didn’t rise.
~
I stepped softly past her moonlit bed,
then over to the cupboard just ahead.
I smelled the cookies hiding up there,
too high to reach with just a chair.
~
I felt all around in the dark of night,
looking for the stool with a height just right.
One more step and my stool was found.
I stubbed my toe but made no sound.
~
Eve stayed asleep on her warm cozy bed.
I quietly limped to the goodies ahead.
I climbed up on the stool so I could see,
then reached for the cookies for Santa and me.
~
The night-light went out and I couldn’t go far,
my hand was stuck in that cookie jar.
But with a wiggle and jiggle and lots of stress,
I freed my hand and with not much mess.
~
I put the jar back up high where it goes.
I closed the lid tight so no one knows.
Then I was frozen in that one scary spot,
doing something I should have not.
~
The floor seemed far and I felt small.
Slowly I sat, afraid I would fall.
Then Eve’s wet nose nudged my back,
a welcome touch when all was black.
~
We both snuggled in Eve’s warm, cozy bed,
her big drooling mouth rested on my head.
I woke up wet but toasty warm.
I was happy we survived the storm.
~
On the window sill our old cat lay.
She’s the first to see a bright new day.
She ate the crumbs I left on the floor.
Then back to her sill when there was no more.
~
I gave Eve a hug and thanks for last night;
she kept me safe when there was no light.
My cookies were crumbled all over Eve’s bed.
Though meant for Santa, now Eve’s instead.
~
She gobbled her snack and left no trace.
And when she was done she licked my face.
Then mom rushed in, glad I’m all right.
I told her about my plan for last night.
~
She wasn’t pleased, that I could tell.
She gave me a hug when I thought she’d yell.
Dad soon came in scratching his head.
He asked us why we were all in Eve’s bed.
~
Mom told him the story of my planned surprise.
Dad listed the reasons why my plan wasn’t wise.
I said I was sorry and from now on I’ll be good.
And I’ll sleep with Eve every night as I should.
~
Mom and Dad said later on we’ll talk.
Let’s first stand up and we’ll take a walk.
I followed them quietly with Eve by my side.
We got to the living room and I almost cried.
~
Santa had come and saved Christmas day.
But the presents can wait, Eve wanted to play.
We played together and now I believe;
Christmas is best with my Christmas Eve.
~*~
SCK120821
Our day of thanks is past.
And Christmas is coming fast.
Now all the roads are jammed.
And mailboxes are getting spammed.
~
Traveling from all around,
our friends and family abound.
The mistletoe will hang in wait,
ready for the kissers’ fate.
~
With ornaments galore arranged,
precious gifts will be exchanged,
The food and fun will joyfully flow.
But then it’s back to shoveling snow.
~*~
SCK112919
~
A numerically nuanced poet’s tryst,
darts on parchment creating a list.
There are columns two, one for kissed,
marginal notes so nil is missed.
Lovers or not, friends a lot,
harmonious hallucinations and those forgot.
Brain freezes and the hellfire hot,
infatuations and heartbreaks got.
Or columns three the now to see,
minimizing minutiae, no space free.
Summations summarized, calcs agree,
obvious observed and we equals we.
~*~
Sck050418
It must be love
When hearts ache
Yet we love all the more
.
It must be love
When hearts beat faster
By footsteps at the door
.
It must be love
When hearts shattered
Yet chests still hold treasure
.
It must be love
When hearts ablaze
Mercury can’t measure
.
It must be love
When only failure
Seems to reassure
.
It must be love
When feeling well
Love must be cure
.
It must be love
When inspired
A heart feels pure
.
It must be love
When hearts know
That it’s love for sure
~
sck010415
‘Twas a sad tale penned
of a long and boring life:
Chapter One – The End
~
sck020215
In a little town not far from here,
there lived a star, a puppeteer.
She entertained children near and far.
While her husband played his old guitar.
~
The puppets danced and the kids all giggled.
The guitarist sang and everyone wiggled.
But behind the show’s curtain of green,
the puppeteer performs, always unseen.
~
But she’s not sad, she’s quite content,
the shows always fun and it pays the rent.
Their home life is great with two cats and a dog.
And in a pond nearby they had a pet frog.
~
Their children, now grown and moved far away,
but they all get together for Christmas day.
The tree lit up bright and gifts piled high.
They await the sunrise in the cold winter sky.
~
First up’s the grandkids, it’s time to explore.
Next was the dog that sleeps by the door.
The children were silent peaking at the gifts.
Each on lookout in five minute shifts.
~
Tape’s gently pulled and corners peeled back,
they had to work fast to get through the stack.
The children were careful to not make a mess,
because if caught, next year there’d be less.
~
It didn’t take long for them to realize,
the presents were fake and the pets were spies.
The children panicked and ran back to their beds,
to dream once more of dolls, blocks and sleds.
~
But the parents sat waiting at the top of the stairs.
The kids now caught broke down in tears.
They ruined Christmas and the parents were mad.
The grandparents were disappointed and that was sad.
~
A lecture was given while breakfast they ate.
Grandma’s lesson was that good things are worth the wait.
And that things are not always as they appear,
you can take it from her, she’s a puppeteer.
~
Breakfast was finished at a leisurely pace.
Anticipation beamed from everyone’s face.
Then a puppet appeared dressed as Santa Claus,
who passed out presents to much applause.
~*~
SCK022321
(rated R)
Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! That’s all I gotta say
Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! It’s almost Christmas day
Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! Yea – Santa’s on his way
Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! I hope he doesn’t stay
*
Christmas last year was our first as newlyweds
Our little home smoky with burnt gingerbreads
Rooms festively strewn and splattered with glitter
The kind of memories that’ll be around forever
*
His reindeer chomped topiary, displayed in my backyard
Now I have to lie and say it’s really avant-garde
Rudolph took a shining to a bright-eyed decoration
Now he’s singing high notes from electrical castration
*
I also saw Santa smooch my wife under mistletoe
Not a friendly peck but a kiss, deep and slow
I’m ready for him this year, cameras everywhere
I’ll edit-out tomorrow, things I shouldn’t share
*
My lovely mate now fast asleep, safe in our cozy room
Windows shuttered tight, door wedged with a broom
While plump little Nicki slumbers soundly in her cradle
It’s now time for me to prepare, egg-nog, cups and ladle
*
Plus a special surprise for Santa, it’s sure to be a hoot
I long to see his rosy cheeks when slapped with a paternity suit
Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! I’ve one last thing to say
Ho, Ho, Ho to all and have a very merry holiday
*
Sck122414
Headlights –
.
Optimism is:
Writing an end to darkness
When there’s no bright side
*
.
Un-Free Times –
.
When do poets sell?
When all my time’s spent writing
Or thinking I can’t
*
.
Scientific Optimism –
.
Nature’s law shared in
Physics and psychology
Is that all things bounce
~*~
sck061215
I wake each day with the rising sun.
Time is shared with laughter and fun.
Passion is felt with every embrace.
Heart beats race to see her face.
~
Years have passed, now I’ve a clue.
Love’s made easy loving you.
Day’s begin with a good morning kiss.
Evening’s remiss not snuggled in bliss.
~
Bonds are made; both strong and weak.
The past was only just a peek.
Thoughts can often cloud the mind.
Though with one in kind, love’s to find.
~
Answers are found in plain sight.
The stars will guide our every night.
Questions asked now foretold.
Forever to hold will never grow old.
~*~
SCK040920
Yesterday’s banked, tomorrow’s free.
Value’s relative but worth you’ll see.
Invest yourself and profits soar.
Share goodwill and you’ll get more.
~
Money’s made and money’s lost.
The time that’s spent is the cost.
There are no rain checks or returns.
The change that’s kept is what one earns.
~
Rich or poor, young or old,
forget the bull you’ve been sold.
I’m here to say, without a doubt;
love is what this life’s about.
~*~
SCK050121
The morning’s young, the night is past.
The time is now but it’s going fast.
Awaken now from your peaceful rest.
Today’s the day to start your quest.
~
Risen with the sun all will grow.
Though paths oft long, journey’s often slow.
With eyes toward the future, feet on the ground,
heart beats guide to destinations found.
~
Relish each moment without delay.
Thanks to be given along the way.
Share the joy with all you meet.
Tomorrows, then we’ll gladly greet.
~*~
SCK010721
There is an old hippy that lives at the North Pole.
He chugs from his mug and puffs on his bowl.
His mug of cider is both warm and sweet.
His bowl of tobacco is his once a week treat.
~
Mama makes brownies to keep hubby plump.
This task is made easy as he sits on his rump.
The elves do the work most of the year,
until Santa is called to guide his reindeer.
~
He then flies the globe in the dark of night.
And he’s only one chance to get it all right.
The clock is ticking with no hour hand.
Quickly he soars over cities, oceans and sand.
~
A long list he keeps so no one is missed.
He then gobbles up cookies and sometimes is kissed.
Then kids everywhere wake to presents galore.
Then Santa will rest for another year more.
~*~
SCK020321
It’s time for another Christmas poem,
cos it’s that time of year.
It’s to be filled with good will,
love and holiday cheer.
*
I could write about Santa,
with his busy little elves,
maybe an ode to their toys,
now cluttering my shelves.
*
I can get sappy for a tree,
our spire of light,
I could rhyme about nothing,
as I do every night.
*
My purpose was clear,
at the start of this poem.
Blessings received I was to emote,
but that’d be a tome.
*
So now I’ll just end with good will to send.
Happy holidays to all, to all a good friend.
May your new year be one to transcend.
And a kiss to some, but that’ll depend.
~*~
SCK122118
rhymesalot 