The Littlest Dragon Slayer

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A little scared of our trip last year,

to the far north-lands, home of the bear.

Mountains, forests and an ice-cold lake,

no swimming or castles of sand to make.

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Fresh air and sunshine, stars in the sky,

camping and hiking, climb mountains high.

That didn’t sound like much fun to me,

I’d rather visit a nice warm sea.

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Drive lasted hours, slumped in the backseat.

We ran out of snacks, then nothing to eat.

We read a new book of funny rhymes,

I fell asleep a couple of times.

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Some stories were good, some I got bored,

some I laughed loudly, others I snored.

Arriving late in the darkness of night,

waking early to rising sunlight.

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First we ate breakfast then a short hike.

Had lunch with dessert, what’s not to like.

Then a museum of the natives past,

legends of old and now fading fast.

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Heard some stories, we saw a show.

My favorite was of long ago,

it was of a little kid like me.

The bravest kid there could ever be.

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She was the daughter of the great chief.

He died protecting all from the thief,

who flew in the night stealing their food.

And the cause of their thousand-year feud.

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The girl shortened her father’s long spear.

Then roamed the forest without a fear,

to find who took her father away.

Then slay the dragon, no time for play.

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I laid in bed thinking of all I heard.

Remembered almost all, details blurred.

Woke the next morning ready to go,

to fill in the blanks I didn’t know.

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I went to the shore before sunrise.

I climbed on the rocks. That wasn’t wise.

Had to know if the legend was true,

then fell in from slippery shoe.

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Hit the water with a splash and scream.

I floated down and started to dream.

I woke up much later warm and dry.

But there’s no sign of bright morning sky.

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I felt all around for a way out.

Then saw light from something’s big snout.

I screamed and jumped, bumped my head and then,

I knew I was in that dragon’s den.

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Her nostrils grew bigger, warm and bright.

Would I be cooked for a tasty bite?

She started to laugh and I to cry.

Was I to live or was I to fry?

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She said “Hello” in a dragon tone.

“Glad to see you, I’m always alone.”

I was much surprised to hear her speak.

Her nature was gentle, almost meek.

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Now in the brightness of her warm light.

We sat and chatted into the night.

She told me the truths I had to know.

And when she’s done burping I could go.

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Dragons can wait to burp but it’s slow.

Or blow out flames with a mighty glow.

A truly bad idea, we both think.

So we waited for her belly to shrink.

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We waited and waited for hours or more.

So she could shrink and unblock the door.

And when most all of her gas gone away,

I could slip out to the light of day.

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By now it’s late and dragon’s still plump.

Rocks all around, I sat on my rump.

She spoke of the last to be with her –

It was the littlest dragon slayer.

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“She was three feet tall and very bold,

Not much more than eight or nine years old.

She charged at me with her tiny spear,

tears pouring down, she showed no fear.

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She plunged the stick in my outstretched paw.

She tried pulling it out to poke me some more.

The tip broke off; I’ve had it since then,

tucked away safe in my dragons den.

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The girls cause noble though a mistake.

Her dear father’s life I didn’t take.

He chased me into the dark of night.

Belly swollen, I couldn’t take flight.

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I ran and ran then climbed a tall tree.

But the brave young chief followed me.

He heard some chicks cry out on a limb.

Surviving the wind their chance’s grim.

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Was the branch to weak, he couldn’t be sure.

But reached for the nest and made it secure.

He was a brave man, doing his best.

But fell to his death saving the nest.

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The small girl glad to know what was right.

But she’s still very sad at her loss that night.

It wasn’t my fault but I share the blame.

Though sad, she forgave me all the same.

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While in the forest the rest of that day,

we planned how to keep others away.

I promised to sleep most of the year,

hiding when there are people to scare.

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The slayer agreed to spare my soul.

Keeping her friendship is my life’s goal.

She would try to visit when she could,

into the darkness of the night wood.

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I gave her a claw as proof of who won –

that famous dragon slaying mission.

She wore it always and was admired by all”

I said it was now on the museum’s wall.

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The dragon then shared more of her life,

her times of happiness, times of strife.

There’s never to be any flying at all.

Unless to answer another dragons call.

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Said she’s free to swim under the ice,

but never when the weather is nice.

And while out for her last swim of the year.

I fell in and she found me there.

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She brought me back to her cozy den,

where she’d hibernate all over again.

Our chat ended as her eyes turned red,

her tummy stirring, she warmly said.

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“Please take the tip of the slayers spear,

So you can recall your time spent here.

Think of me fondly now that we’re friends.

And trust that a dragon’s love never ends.”

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She finally burped, I held my nose,

but that’s how a dragon friendship goes.

Then out the backdoor and into the wood,

I ran as fast as ever I could.

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Now thinking, of course of mom and dad,

the sooner I’m back the less they’ll be sad.

Then the rangers soon found me safe and sound.

They were all happy I hadn’t drowned.

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Back at the camp we all hugged and kissed.

I was safe and assured I was missed.

But then all the questions that they had –

Over and over until I got mad!

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They didn’t believe my dragon tale.

I showed them my proof to no avail.

It was thought that my memories blurred –

by all the stories that I had heard.

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Tales of dragons and slayers in the night,

all normal causes of a child’s fright.

A doctor checked the bump on my head,

then sent me back home for time in bed.

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I’m glad for the friendship of a dragon.

But all in all it wasn’t much fun.

I’ve learned new things and a good lesson had.

That a kid all alone is very very bad!

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And now I’ve shared my legend with you.

Like the slayer’s, it’s mostly all true.

But if you don’t believe I’m sincere –

I’ll show you the tip of that little spear.

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~:~ the End ~:~

 

 

Sck093014

Heeding in a New Direction

Good day to all and Happy New Year.
The time is now to persevere,
so out with the old and in with the new.
After all that’s all we can do.
~
While some woke hung-over some are well rested.
This day is new and soon we’ll be tested.
We’ve made resolutions, some we’ll forget.
Mistakes we’ve made and some we’ll regret.
~
Let’s rise above and all stand up tall.
Another chance is now given to all.
Its day number one, a new start begins.
Let’s heed our losses and embrace our wins.

~*~
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The Yearly Dump

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.

~*~
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Peas & Carrots

You can make a pile, I’ll make a stack.
You can smile at me and I’ll smile back.
I’ll boil the water, you make the tea.
I’ll blow you a kiss and you blow one to me.
~
You can pop the popcorn, I’ll melt the butter.
You can hold my hand and make my heartbeats flutter,
I’ll choose the movie, you pick the day.
The next time we’ll switch and both have our way.
~
I’ll clear the table, you clear the waste.
We can share dessert, I’ll have a taste.
You can say “I love you” and I’ll say it too.
Then we’ll share our futures, both, me and you.

~*~
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Resolute

My buttocks hurt and my knuckles crack.
What drives me forward can drag me back.
My eyes are tired and my head is sore.
My hands are cramped, I can write no more.
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My pages are filled with useless stuff.
And one more verse is never enough.
Pencils grow dull as does my brain.
But each day silent leaves a stain.
~
Though deep down I know the truth.
The haunt persists from my youth.
I’ve something to say, but what is unclear.
Answers will come but not this year.
~
A resolution needed this time around.
Try harder I must for I am bound.
The calendar says I’m almost there.
Glasses raised a toast we’ll share.
~
A new day begins with much to do.
Sunnier thoughts will eclipse the blue.
A cushion I’ll buy for my favorite chair.
Words will flow like a breath of fresh air.
~
Volumes will fill with the funniest of lines.
A chapter reserved for my sweet valentines.
I’ll rise from sleep as each day’s the first.
I’ll sip my coffee then quench my thirst.
~
Reflecting upon the time long past,
how the future sneaks up too fast.
And if nothing to leave advice I can give.
“Live out your dreams and a dream you shall live.”

~*~
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Weathering Christmas

‘Twas the day after Christmas and all through our town,
the snow had all melted leaving grass colored brown.
New sleds with bows all waited out back.
New hats and gloves all piled in a stack.
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The weather was warm but the sky a dark gray.
Bikes too must wait for a sunnier day.
Then rain fell heavy just after lunch.
The wind started blowing, mom had a hunch.
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She gathered the candles and charged her phone.
She called up her parents who were home all alone.
We then jumped in the car, our mission was clear.
We’d drive to their house to bring Christmas cheer.
~
The wind grew stronger, ripping branches from trees.
We saw a strange man in a puddle on skis.
We got to their house, the decorations still lit.
We all rushed in but there’s no time to sit.
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Gram packed a few things and was ready to go.
Gramps starred out the window wishing for snow.
We squeezed in the car for our long journey home.
Then gramps yelled “Stop! I’ve forgotten my comb.”
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Gram said “Keep going, you can use mine.”
Gramps, with a smile, said “That’ll be fine.”
Then sis started crying, a bathroom was needed.
“Hurry up mom” she anxiously pleaded.
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Mom said to wait; there’d soon be a chance.
“If not” she joked “you can soon try new pants.”
Sis got the message and quietly she pouted.
“I have to go too,” Gramps then loudly shouted.
~
Mom kept on going, our street was now near.
But the driving was slow, the weather severe.
Our house then appeared but the driveway was gone.
So mom stomped on the gas and drove up the lawn.
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We jumped from the car and ran to the door.
Dad was there waiting, looking unsure.
We took off our coats and hung them to dry.
Then lightning went boom and lit up the sky.
~
The lights went out but our fireplace was warm.
We all huddled closely to ride out the storm.
We woke the next morning all stacked around our tree.
Our presence was felt and the day was rain free.

~*~
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The Half Full Hourglass

The night was black and eerily still,
sensations naught but for the chill.
The fog then quickly settles in.
It is death but for the din.
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With nowhere left to run or go.
A silence welcomes from far below.
Or follow the sounds of mournful screams,
awakened to a life of no one’s dreams.
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Nightmares seep with a shuttered mind.
Yet sweetly we rest when freedom we find.
Tomorrows beat within our hearts.
Open eyes see bright, new starts.
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But it is sleep where we all do dwell,
our futures told of heaven and hell.
We’ll meet the many never to know.
Then in a blink it’s the end of our show.
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When we wake a dimension’s gone.
Feeling flat upward we’re drawn.
We rise to heights imagined by one.
The world awaits, our day begun
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Tread the paths, both waning and worn.
Use your sharpness when you’re torn.
And sleep will guide us to our core.
But time awake always one third more.

~*~
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A Gift of Sixty-Four

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.

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They’re a box of possibilities,

a forest full of Christmas trees.

Blanket of snow and garlands bright,

with flicker of lights in the night.

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They’re singing birdies just for me,

or sailing ship on a stormy sea.

They’re autumn play and a summer breeze,

the colors of spring and buzzing bees.

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With this one gift I’ll need no-more.

It’s a box of sixty-four!

There are colors for sad, colors for glad.

They’re all perfect, none are bad.

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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.

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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.

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I’m glad they float, though labels’ lost.

Nothing left to peel and be tossed.

Then guides are gone for shades unknown.

But I’ll know them all, when I’m grown.

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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.

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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 lid that flips,

and hole on back to sharpen tips.

Enough to share with all my friends,

we’ll draw a line that never ends.

*

Though mostly used sparingly,

tucked safe in a drawer, just for me.

They somehow seem to go away –

just in time for Christmas day.

*

The End

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{Holiday Revision}

A Christmas Tail

sleepy town

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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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

 

A Holiday’s Warmth

In the land of the dragon when nights get long.
The air is cold and the wind is strong.
In caves they’ll gather all cozy and warm.
But first, they’ll prepare before the big storm.
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The holiday’s near and another year’s treat.
Moms and dads busy to make all things neat.
The children make dangles to dress up their tree.
Then off to slumber for a week, two or three.
~
Their parents when done with winter chores,
warm their homes and open their doors.
The children then wake to a new winter’s white.
And gaze at trinkets secretly left in the night.
~
There are mittens and hats for the littlest of tikes.
There are goodies galore that everyone likes.
The grown-ups all share a warm hearted kiss.
Then hugs all around that’s never to miss.
~
The teens await the greatest gift of all.
They’ll soon learn to fly or tumble and fall.
But the new snow’s now deep and oh so soft.
It’s perfect for landing when not high aloft.
~
When the sun gets low and the chill sets in.
Homeward they head for the feast begin.
They’ll all sing and dance and sip warm sno-nog.
The night then ends with the last burning log.
~
Eyelids grow heavy, eyes soon to close.
Socks pulled snugly over big chilly toes.
Hibernation then starts and dreams it’ll bring,
where thoughts are warm awaiting the spring.

~*~
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In the Dark

~*~
If to imagine a perfect life;
paths of ease and little strife,
morning smiles and a noon surprise,
sunsets reflected in each other’s eyes.

Our eve’s playful, toying future schemes.
Nights shared cuddling, kissing and living our dreams.
The sun then will rise for me and you.
Each day a new start of our lives anew.

~
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Kitty Cat Chat

My little kitty talks to me.
She changes the channel on my TV.
And shows me things I don’t see.
But I never argue, I just agree.
~
Her day begins before sunrise.
I see her starring in my eyes.
Her only word is no surprise.
Up! Up! Up! She loudly cries.
~
To the kitchen we’ll both head.
She’s always happiest when she’s fed.
I’ll fill her bowl then back to bed.
Her heartfelt “Thanks” is always said.
~
My alarm goes off at seven or eight.
My kitty tells me if I’m early or late.
Either way we’re feeling great.
High-fives and head bumps we celebrate.
~
Then off to school but she’s alone.
She says goodbye with a sad little moan.
Someday she’ll learn to use a phone.
But for now that skill’s unknown.
~
I’m welcomed home, I see she’s played.
I clean up all the mess she’s made.
She’s fed again and smiles we trade.
We’ll say goodnight then off we fade.

~*~
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Empty Lot

Our empty lot’s not empty at all.
There’s a tree that’s big and tall.
It’s a place that kids love to share.
It’s on my street so mom needn’t care.

We spend sunny days in the shade.
There’s lots of dreaming in forts we made.
There’s bunches of dirt to dig deep holes.
Rainy puddles for toy fishing poles.

Our empty lot really has it all,
We hide and seek and sometimes play ball.
It’s the place where adventures begin.
A fence to keep the city out and us in.

We’ve bugs and spiders, squirrels and cats.
There’s soft grass to sit for quiet chats.
We see dogs on leashes and birds in the sky,
Some tweet, sing sweet, bark, run and fly.

There’s rope jumping girls and running boys.
Everyone brings their favorite toys.
Weeds make jungles for our tiny men.
Tiny cars get lost, then are found again.

A place on Sundays for dads to mow.
A place anytime where friendships grow.
When the days fun is done, we all say goodnight.
To our good old friend, under the street light.

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Snow

Soon it’s fall, but first back to school,

days getting shorter, nights get cool.

Then the winter and with it snow,

wrapping the world in its glow.

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We’ll build forts, make balls to throw.

So many things to do in the snow,

sledding and skiing, rolling in white.

Hoping for more snow every night.

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Morning’s good news, stay home from class.

Fun things to do with time to pass,

make a snowman with rocks for eyes,

that see’s all in cold winter skies.

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We’ll stay in and play or just talk.

Then shovel a long path to walk,

to the street though nowhere to go.

Everything’s closed because of the snow.

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Crusty piles; high, dirty and gray,

wetter and smaller each new day.

Snowman’s withered, springs on the way,

time to make up for our snow day.

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Waking one morning, snow’s no more,

instead there’s flowers by my door.

Springs arrived and welcome by all,

summers next and followed by fall

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Like the seasons our life goes round.

Searching for answers already found.

Around and around we all go,

waiting for summer then for snow.

*

The End

sck091514

Wintery Summary

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.

~*~
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Peace Out

Sitting in the rain, I see the world pass by.
I try to think sunny thoughts beneath a cloudy sky.
I hear drops on the glass, watching the grass glisten.
Nature’s calling from all around if to truly listen.
~
The birds are still singing high up in the tree.
The fish, I’m sure, are splashing in the open sea.
The bugs are always bugging, whatever it is they do.
And pets forever snuggle, loving me and you.
~
It makes stop to ponder and reflect upon our race.
As one of many humans I know I’d miss this place.
Yet we try to sculpt our views in ways that we choose.
The picture may be pretty but our nature we lose.
~
The sun will shine again and wash away this gray.
And unless we’ve a catastrophe we’ll see another day.
As is life, our time is short, as is every other breed.
But the future of our world’s less dependent on their seed.
~
“We reap what we sow” is a phrase we should heed.
Like a garden unattended will surely fill with weed.
The food we grow will dwindle, eventually to cease.
We’ll never feel rain again, but the earth will be at peace.
~
I know this sounds depressing but that’s not my goal.
I’m truly optimistic but time does take its toll.
Change is all around, like weather, not always fair.
But like a rainy day, the droplets we all share.

~*~
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A Poet’s Desire

~

If I could turn my words into the finest wine

We’d sail on those balmy seas until the end of time

If I could print money on all the paper that I use

Our sky would rain confetti any time you choose

~

If my wishes granted for all that I desire

We’d spent our moonlit evenings cuddled by a fire

If my fantasies could ever be reality

All I’d ever need is for you to be with me.

~*~

Sck101214

A Beginning

I woke today, the outside’s gray,
my room’s cold and this story’s old.
Hunger persists from the night,
yet in this journal I must daily write.
~
A poet am I until I die,
often to cry, to always ask why.
With bloodshot eyes and inky hands,
words conjured from dreamy lands.
~
Time, you see, wears heavy on me.
In verse I live, it’s all I’ve to give.
The past is scribed, legends to follow.
The future fore, the now I borrow.
~
This present I speak, not for the weak.
But persist I must and forgo disgust.
Yesterday’s full of virtue and sins,
tomorrows unknown but today begins.
~
A capsule of one of a life soon done,
this journal I will, my time’s now still.
And if my time’s now relevant,
this treasure to you I gladly present.

~*~
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Forever Brine

Gaslights flicker, but one in three

These harsh fall winds batter thee

Soon the rains will pour and pelt

Yet with heavy heart nothing’s felt

~

Broken brick teeters beneath shoe-less feet

The stench of death fills the street

An island paradise – mine no more

Alas in this city to find a door

~

Thirty years lost at sea

‘Till found rescued, returned free

In search of a life I wish to find

Of futures not had and left behind

~

Now homeward bound to do what’s right

And share my tale of a dreadful night

With freezing sleet and gale, our sails torn

Splintered masts await the morn

~

Screams of mates haunting still

Silence came with the sunsets’ chill

I awoke to a native angel, urged to make a wife

Years of guilty pleasure pass of fertile island life

~

In a search never-ending of a foggy memory

Back to a decrepit city, forever lost to me

A vision of a woman I had no time to know

And a father-less child I never saw grow

~

Now I must roam this morbid place

In the shadows I hide this unknown face

With grizzled hide and toothless grin

Tis I this rotted hull of unforgivable sin

~

First I betrayed a young bride with family

I’ve betrayed my many brothers to a stormy sea

Betrayed my island flowers with my bastard seed

And their many blooms not knowing of their creed

~

In tangled webs of filthy alleys, doors locked tight

Shuttering out the dangers awakened in the night

Seeking boarded diamond pane, broken lintel I recall

My tiny door beckons just down the hall

~

Now steps ahead my future lies, one without a past

Decisions’ pondered long, yet always chosen fast

With a knock a ghost returns to those long at rest

Me thinks a splintered briny deck for all will be best

~*~

sck071615

Too Cold To Go Outside

I woke today – weatherman lied.

I rolled over and I sighed.

Couldn’t sleep, eyes open wide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

There’ll be no swing set or slide.

There’ll be no walk or bike ride.

There’ll be no kites to be flied.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Today we have to play inside.

We’ll think of things never tried.

Stocking feet on floors we’ll glide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

We’ll build a fort for us to hide.

We’ll play dress up – you be bride.

Explore jungles – I’ll be guide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Time to dig a path that’s wide.

Getting dressed, boot laces tied.

Wind so stingy I almost cried.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

All’s warm, coats hung to be dried.

Find crayons, colors I’ve eyed.

Draw pictures for the fridge with pride.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Icy world all is gray sky-ed.

Plants droopy, looks like they died.

Bay frozen we’ll see no tide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Now sleep, teddies at my side.

Cold nights end, take it in stride.

Spring soon then winter we’ll chide.

When not too cold to go outside.

~*~

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