humor

Day 2

Day two’s now well underway,
I’ve nothing to write, nothing to say.
But I’m happy and that’s always OK,
couldn’t ask for a prettier day.
~
So I’ll just ponder, won’t read the news,
I’d rather be dull than shine with the blues.
It’s time to reflect on all of life’s hues.
It’s time to relax, I’ve paid my dues.
~
But I’ll do something, which goes without saying,
I am getting older, my hair now graying.
I’ve a world to inspire, no time for delaying,
just not today, after all I’m vay-kay-ing.

~*~
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Day 1

Vacation’s finally here,
now what am I to do.
I’d love to take a trip,
but the dollars are too few.
~
I could fix my house,
but that sounds like work.
I could let it all fall down,
but then I’d be a jerk.
~
I could write a happy poem,
maybe it’ll be good.
I’ll share it with my friends,
as I know I should.
~
I did get up early;
I’d hate to waste the time.
So I guess it’s time to start,
start my first vacation rhyme.

~*~
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Better Than Nothing

My thinking cap has gone astray.
And I, bewildered another day.
But, at least no work, my day is free.
Perhaps today a poem’s to be.
~
I try to write whenever I can,
was just a child when that began.
Sometimes it flows without a stop.
Then years will pass and all a flop.
~
The flop phase now is where I’m at.
But I’ll keep trying and that is that.
The day’s still young and I’ve still time.
Let’s all hope for a better rhyme.

~*~
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Perspective

The day was long, the night short.
Arms embrace for support.
Work was taxing and taxes due.
Trinkets bought but just a few.
~
Pillows help soften the blow.
Blankets warm from head to toe.
Legs intertwined and bodies askew,
it’s fun to try something new.
~
Perspectives change in new light,
loving eyes improve our sight.
Peaceful slumber finds its way,
the perfect end to an imperfect day.

~*~
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Imagine That

Imagine that, I’ve nothing to write.
I got up early and stayed up all night.
So I’ll make something up, if that’s OK.
I’ll probably live it some other day.
~
It could be happy or it could be sad.
It could be of some old adventure had.
I’m sure there’ll be others and why not.
Though most quite small, I’ve had a lot.
~
Perhaps a poet imagined that lives on a hill.
They’ll watch the sunrise and do what they will.
That might be good for a poem or two,
or maybe a love sonnet, maybe a few.
~
With these pages hands turned with time,
each face a story, each await their rhyme.
Each chapter has its title, the next to depend.
Tho thy tome grows heavy, I wish it no end.
~
I’ll imagine a tomorrow when something’s to write.
I’ll get up early and stay up all night.

~*~
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Dopplegingerjibberishargh!

.
Time changes a changing day.
A change of heart just beats away.
Respect and admiration flow gleefully.
Desires swell exponentially.

Courage grows when feet should run.
Dreams await when words be fun.
With no eyes, face or voice to engage,
letters askew from heart, hand to page.

Lives texted is now the rage
Costumes change when word’s the stage.
Act’s order confused when time’s a game.
This world virtual is never the same.

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Dreaming Reality

moonrise

I woke today all askew.
Got up late but dreamt of you.
Our day was perfect, evening grand.
We watched the sunset hand in hand.
~
The moon rose and stars shined bright.
There could never be a better night.
Then a bell rang, my dream was done.
But I’ll see you soon for some real fun.

~*~
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Rainbows and Unicorns

Today I know not what to do.
So I think I’ll try something new.
I’ll color a poem with skies so bright,
with stars that twinkle every night.
~
There’ll be no wars or no hate.
Conflicts solved with just debate.
There’ll be no clocks to dictate time.
There’ll be no violence or any crime.
~
There’ll be no pollution or climate change.
All will be loved, there’ll be no strange.
Peace will be our common goal.
Joy we’ll share from our soul.
~
There’ll be no hunger or disease.
Children will play as they please.
Crayons will be free for everyone.
So let’s get a box and start the fun.

~*~
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Dreams

~

Sailed the seas on a pirate ship

Skied mountains, almost broke my hip

Boxed the champ, he bit his lip

A chocolate cow found, took a sip

.

Touched the clouds from my balloon

Wrestled a bear and a baboon

I flew in a rocket to the moon

Then got hungry, be back soon

.

Dove to the bottom of oceans deep

Then up in a plane, took a leap

While floating down went back to sleep

My dreams are fun, no need to weep

.

Opened eyes, wiped sleep from brow

Looked all around but saw no cow

I know it’s time to wake up now

I’ll dream again, someway, somehow

~*~

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Getting Old

My story today is put on hold.
I’ve snow to shovel in the cold.
This foolish weather’s getting old.
I should move south, so I’ve been told.
~
Fresh air and sunshine’s what I need.
No more boots or coats of tweed.
No more shovels, my winters freed.
But there’ll be no speedo, that’s agreed.
~
What about sunburn, I burn fast,
a lesson learned from my past.
And the bugs, their numbers vast,
hurricanes too are often forecast.
~
I’d miss the autumn with colors bright.
And the pleasant walks on a summer’s night.
Spring of course brings a new days light.
So one more year I guess is alright.

~*~
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Morning Triku #172 ~ Mirage

~*~
Rock and Toil

Castles can never
reach lofty heights without a
solid foundation.
~

Blameless Solutions

When either or both
unhappy, result’s the same.
Fix or quit – no blame.
~

Love’s all Wet

Silently I sit,
puddled I sweat. Lagoon thoughts
immersed with you, wet.

~*~
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Spooky Thoughts

The moment is near, the fear’s begun.
My nerves are frazzled, I’m under the gun.
A routine surgery, or so they say,
I think I’ll try to enjoy this day.
~
I woke up early to see the sun rise.
It could be the last to dazzle my eyes.
Crazy visions are filling my head.
It might be soon, I may be dead.
~
But that’s just nonsense, I’ll do great.
It’s too early to be called late.
The sun’s now high, distractions ensue.
Halloween awaits and I’ve much to do.

~*~
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Morning Triku #177 ~ Random Waves

Beyond the Glass

My windows are closed.
The air cold and leaves fallen.
Yet birds sing somewhere.
~

Sticky

With the glue of two,
broken hearts can mend anew.
Or someone gets stuck.
~

Self-Love

Love Unimpassioned,
is much like one hand clapping,
every morning.

~*~
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Cats with Balls

Balls of yarn in a basket rest,
tightly wound await their quest.
Cats a-pouncing, a playful pest,
balls unwound are surely messed.
~
But if to be a ball at rest,
is to be without life’s zest.
To unwind, we humans blessed.
Perhaps the cat does know best.
~
But we’re not cats, as you’ve guessed.
And if to pounce we’re addressed.
Our winding road we’re obsessed.
And our time is surely pressed.
~
But like a basket we welcome guest,
receiving all to our cozy nest.
Though when full we get stressed,
perhaps to knit, but surely I jest.
~
Our paths in life we can request.
Our destinations we manifest.
But our time we must invest.
Or simply the litter we’ll digest.

~*~
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