Dream me a Dream

Dream me a dream of forever nights

When the one you desire comes into sight

Touching this heart most tenderly

Embraced are we in love’s poetry.

 ~

Dream me a dream of forever days

Together our visions cut through the haze

Freeing the mind of all that was feared

When Poetic embrace is forever shared

 ~

Dream me a dream of walking together

Sharing our love of ink and feather

Floating away in the dreams we desire

Where poetic hearts share words to inspire

~

Dream me a dream where dreams I’ll not need

Dream me a dream where my heart doesn’t bleed

Where a dream never ends or departs

Residing forever, a place in my heart

*

sck/tberryb/0114

Dude’s Smitten

This dude is smitten
With a sweet little kitten
Man, how she makes me purr
~
This dude is smitten
So I ain’t sittin
I know she is the cure
~
This dude is smitten
And I’m a gettin
To feelin real sure
~
This dude is smitten
And I ain’t shittin
All I need is her
~
This dude is smitten
I won’t be forgettin
This love that is so pure.
~
This dude is smitten
And so it’s written
That nothin’ will deter

~*~
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Physcophysical Physics

eyes1

Time’s the space between events.
Events made from cause and effect.
Effects felt when closing space,
causing events to speed up the space.
.
Much like life, love and lust,
the time comes and in we’re thrust.
The future is and the past was,
effecting all, just because.

~*~
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Forever Tomorrows

A love like ours is a love so rare.
Each and every moment is love we share.
Our body’s drawn to each other’s embrace.
Our joy’s seen on each other’s face.
~
Whisper’s amplified and sure to please.
Kisses always welcome and returned with ease.
Life’s now unimaginable any other way.
Yet I love her more than I did yesterday.

~*~
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Seems To Be

It seems like only yesterday when time was on my side.
The future was ahead with opportunities far and wide.
The world, it seems, my oyster with all its slime and goo.
The pearls were for my plucking; now they are but few.
~
My words no longer flow and little seems to please.
Perhaps it’s just boredom or my mind is now at ease.
Age may be the culprit; it seems to fit the bill.
Birthdays cause reflection as they always will.
~
The image that is seen may not be what it seems.
Tomorrow I’ll be younger, but only in my dreams.
Today I watched the sunrise, it seems, a perfect day.
I think I’ll wake my love and kiss these blues away.

~*~
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Points of View

On pins and needles is where I sit.
Awaiting a place where I’ll fit,
left or right or in between,
high or low or a place unseen.
~
A place we need to call our own,
upon arrival we’ll have grown.
Run or walk the journey’s long,
skip or crawl, at worst we’re wrong.
~
Time will tell when time it is.
The challenge then is to pass the quiz.
Take it slow and recall the past.
Our brightness shines with contrast.
~
Lines untangled an unsure bet,
points of view is what we get.
The big picture seen sets us free.
Clarity felt makes we of me.

~*~
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More Love, Less Stress

In times of worry and feeling stress,
when plans made become a mess,
you’ll find the answers no need to guess.
You’re surrounded by friends, no need to regress.
.
Troubling thoughts we will address,
my care for you I’ll gladly express.
Our love will grow stronger, never less.
And when a hug’s needed I’ll always say yes.

~*~
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Only One

Pinks and grays and powder blue,
like the snowflake, there are no two.
Dusky times do surely amaze,
as slowly they fade in a purple haze.

Starlight brightens till morning light.
Day’s awakened the futures in sight.
The sun will set and blanket the blue.
And like the snowflake I’ll melt with you.

~*~
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FOREST OF HELL

Colorless leaf crackle beneath sole-less feet.

The smell of death lingers sweet.

Bramble thick draws blood on paper skin,

digging more deeply the deeper within.

 *

Then starlight fades to the darkness I fear,

moonlight shadows disappear.

Columns abound supporting endless night,

numbers multiply consuming the light.

 *

Welcome dew hangs heavy in unseen air,

to drink deep I do not dare.

Outstretched hands replace teary useless eyes.

Senses heightened, alert of endless cries.

 *

Vibrations of night; soft, loud, far and near,

distant from all that we all hold dear.

Wanting now only to curl-up and weep,

my soul is still for the sickle to reap.

 *

Return to the path I lost yesterday,

blackness turns slowly to gray.

Long nights journey in the forest of hell,

surviving unscathed except for my shell.

 *

The End

*

 SKittell c.2014

Yes, Love

Another poem with love the theme,
hearts at peace and smiles gleam.
Bliss is felt with each goodnight kiss.
Good morning snuggles to never miss.
~
Our days filled with laughter and fun.
Good times continue with the setting sun.
Evenings aglow in candlelight,
warmth’s felt throughout the night.
~
Her image always vivid in my enchanted mind.
Her thoughts of us shared in kind.
A more perfect pair none could ever guess.
So is this love? Oh heavens, yes!

~*~
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Division Decision

Since the beginning of time a field did feed.
Animals galore found all they could need.
Millennia’s past and all stayed the same.
Then one day a farm family came.
~
Centuries past and the farm family grew.
The field divided and then there were two.
One side raised sheep and the other was tilled.
Crops soon prospered and bellies were filled.
~
Decades followed as more homes were built.
The farms disappeared without any guilt.
The moral being that time does divide.
And when time runs out there’s nowhere to hide.

~*~
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Again and Again

I’d love to see you come again,
to see what you’ve been missing.
All this time in between,
could be filled with lots more kissing.
~
Every second that you’re gone,
my body still feels your heat.
And when you do return,
my heart does skip a beat.
~
Why the need to take a rest,
this night’s still quite young.
Place your cheek close to mine.
And we’ll climb another rung.
~
Bliss will follow then we’ll sleep.
Our dreams will light the dark.
The morning will then beckon.
And we’ll ignite a new day’s spark.

~*~
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The Chill is Gone

A roof-top garden above us all, 

trees now blossomed, the sky made small.

Morning’s crisp with color’s bright.

Bees and butterflies dance in flight.

~

Fragrant florals enhance the scene.

Whilst songs of birds fill between.

A busy squirrel hides their lunch.

All to be nurtured, I’ve a hunch.

~

Grassy patches catch the sun.

Warmth is felt where winter’s none.

Spring is here with glory and grace.

Smiles return to a once chilled face.

~*~

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Clueless

I bought the line I was sold.
I did the things I was told.
Now I wait for my silver and gold.
But yesterday’s news is already old.
~
Tomorrows will come, again I’ll try.
I’ll great the day with the morning sky.
Horizon bound, I’ll not ask why.
I’ll know the answers when I die.
~
But today’s today, I see the sun.
Eyes are open, the start’s begun.
The day is long at two to one.
Before I sleep I’ll have some fun.
~
When I rise the future’s new.
Options abound but choices few.
I think I know what I will do.
But that’s a guess, I have no clue.

~*~
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Goldies Luck

~

There once were three bears living in the wood.

A small happy family, their life was good.

While out one day picking berries to munch,

a boy chanced by their cabin smelling of lunch.

.

He knocked on the door but no answer returned.

So he walked right in for the meal he yearned.

First he saw a fish stew with fins and a tail,

till luckily finding jellies and honey in a pail.

.

A feast this sweet thought he cannot be ignored,

so he nibbled, dribbled, slurped and then snored.

He woke sometime later with his teddy close by.

He thought it a dream till Teddy said “Hi”

.

The boy tried getting up to run for the door

But sleeping in honey made him stick to the floor

The little bear giggled and papa was mad.

Mama bear unstuck him and the little boy’s glad.

.

Then he’s off to the tub to scrub off the goo.

His lips staying stained a bright jelly blue.

He then cuddled by a fire feeling warm and dry.

While mama finds a recipe for a golden top pie.

.

After their lunch the bunch are full once more.

The little ones dashed to the forest to explore.

The boy returned stung by bees, wasps and fleas,

with scrapes and bruises on his hands and knees.

.

There’s dirt and rashes covering the rest,

that poor little boy was quite a mess.

He then nursed with care by the big mama bear,

while papa bear dozes in his huge favorite chair.

.

The little cub sent to finds some PJ’s to wear.

Then it’s time to sleep in a bed they all share.

After weeks of bear life the food made him ill.

Yet bears have no doctors or get well pill.

.

Papa bear knew what had to be done.

So to town he ventured with the rising sun.

The boy held secure, they arrived near noon.

Police with guns surrounded them soon.

.

The bear roared “Don’t shoot, I mean no harm.”

The little boy wiggled his weak little arm.

The shooters stood down till help arrived.

Watchful eyes waited for the boy to be revived.

.

Papa soon freed, went home and lived well.

The boy recovered then surely caught hell.

All knew the boy lucky surviving this time,

though chances golden when writing the rhyme.

.

And as with all tales there’s a lesson taught,

That running away won’t find what’s sought.

And if you chance a bear on some future journey,

good luck to you and say hello for me.

~*~

 sck013116 

Time Afar

When a loved one’s in need and miles divide,
time compounds the hurt inside.
The pain felt distance can’t hide.
The mind wanders far and wide,
~
Visions conjured amplify dread.
The voices within, anticipation bred.
Polished words redundantly said.
Perception altered in a scattered head.
~
Fantasy and reality bear casualty.
Tears shed overflow with charity.
Hopes guide tomorrow’s clarity.
End’s certain with endless certainty.

~*~
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Pen and Folly

I’m taking a break from this pen and folly,
as my words of late have not been so jolly.
The spring is here and the flora’s in bloom.
Why should I wallow locked in this room?
~
I can’t spend my days writing alone,
I can’t watch more news or play with my phone.
My body needs movement and my brain needs repair.
So I’m going outside to enjoy the fresh air.
~
But not to worry, I’ll be back soon,
perhaps inspired by a beautiful moon.
Enough is enough of the weeks’ melancholy.
The weekend is here and I hope pen and folly.

~*~
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Dawns’ on Me

The sun has risen, a poet’s alone.
He‘s perched on a porch,
atop his worn throne.

The birds whisper clues,
of nature’s good news.
And words start to flow.

At the top of the stair,
my love dreams there,
awaiting a kiss on her cheek.

Eyes soon to open,
we both will see,
this day has bloomed for she.

~*~
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Within Reach

This story begins where most would end.
It’s not fiction, I won’t pretend.
The moon was high, my energy low.
The night came fast, my thinking slow.
~
I heard a noise come from my shed.
A scream so loud it could wake the dead.
I stepped outside not knowing why.
Should I return or would I die?
~
Each step closer my life’s less long.
My goal uncertain but temptation’s strong.
To turn and run or hide and wait,
the choice is now, if not too late.
~
Between my door and destiny,
lay the light and dark of uncertainty.
Betwixt the abstracts of would, could and should,
in a purgatory I there stood.
~
Clinging to the past and a peace of mind,
scenarios flood to times I’d find.
Reaching out to unlock my fate,
sights envisioned now bears the weight.
~
In the dimming light of one’s existence,
the future seen in our past’s distance.
Fear now a memory, the dragons slain,
tomorrows welcomed with forever’s again.
~
The truth often stretched resilience we test.
For problems to solve persistence is best.
And the shed’s but a metaphor for time unknown.
While the night the place where stars are grown.

~*~
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Jingle Writer

I want to be a jingle writer, write jingles every day.

I want to be a jingle writer, jingles all the way.

I want to be a jingle writer ‘cos there’s bills to pay.

I want to be a jingle writer, not much more too say.

*

I want to be a jingle writer and work from my backyard.

I want to be a jingle writer, poets work too hard.

I want to be a jingle writer, don’t understand avant-garde.

I want to be a jingle writer, no need to be a bard.

*

I want to be a jingle writer and put my tools to use.

I want to be a jingle writer, write short and loose.

I want to be a jingle writer; I’ll be no Dr. Seuss.

I want to be a jingle writer until I’m cut from the noose.

*

The End