Kisses on her neck
Nibbles on her lobes
Curves gently caressed
Tingling in her toes
Breathing grows heavy
Candles light our way
Sounds of passion louden
Violins softly play
Time losses presence
Euphoria sets the tone
Bliss’s soon to follow
As one, not alone
My little town is changing,
the old folks are moving away.
Little kids are moving back,
now there’s screaming every day.
The houses too are changing,
paint jobs have gone awry.
Gone the regard for history,
the zip code is now the why.
Perhaps I too am changing,
my future being soon elsewhere.
While life forever changes,
what remains was always there.
My word for the day is unforthcoming.
The results of which have got me bumming.
Its meaning is clear and so apropos.
I need to write but I’ve lost the flow.
People I ask are too unforthcoming.
The guesses they make are all unbecoming.
Or they just shrug and say “I don’t know”.
My patience then reaches another plateau.
The future’s events remain unforthcoming.
Yet my wordy obsession is clearly mind numbing.
I’ve planted this seed that now I must sow.
I’ve felt the drought and now I must grow.
Though this poem’s end is still unforthcoming,
my mood’s improving, soon I’ll be humming.
But to not get too stressed I’ll take it real slow,
so if not today then surely tomorrow.
I’m starting my day in a positive way.
Good morning to all is what I say.
If it’s not morning have a good night.
Your time will come to see the light.
Life will be both happy and sad.
When it’s not bad you should be glad.
And when it’s good share your bliss.
If you’ve a partner, share a kiss.
Share your joy with one and all;
acts of kindness are never small.
A simple smile will brighten a day.
A simple good morning will have its sway.
Awake is a plus, the future starts there.
Dwell on the positives and subtract despair.
Time keeps ticking and forward we go.
Don’t be conned, think like a pro.
On a street that shouldn’t be there,
there’s a house that shouldn’t stand.
Its front is covered in thorny vines,
out back a yard of sand.
The windows are always open,
cats all come and go.
There’s a dog that barks all night,
it’s really a horror show.
There’s an old car in the driveway,
but no one has seen it move.
A radio’s always blasting upstairs,
so someone’s got the groove.
The locals all say it’s haunted,
they’ve heard stories all their life.
Newlyweds had once lived there,
but no one had ever seen the wife.
Packages and mail get delivered,
but the trash never goes out.
Imagination fills in the blanks,
cos that’s what fantasy’s about.
Awake to a dream and all of our wishes,
we’ve cuddles and kisses, a hit with the misses.
Good morning my love a new day’s begun.
Let’s rise to new heights and follow the sun.
On a breeze we’ll soar and glide evermore,
with stars to guide our fates we’ll explore.
Our views aligned our vision’s ahead,
our eyes on each other and forward we’re led.
Laughter we treasure with each new endeavor.
Time on our side our love is forever.
Our evening’s sublime our morning’s delicious,
we’ve cuddles and kisses there are no near misses.
I’m not sure of the time,
or the day of the week.
I’m not certain that I hear,
or that I even speak.
It seems that I can see,
as the words become more clear.
I’m sure that I can feel,
as I live in constant fear.
I’m probably indecisive,
then again maybe not.
I’d like to think I think,
but unfortunately not a lot.
Uncertainty is a problem;
it’s something we all share.
I’m not sure you agree,
I’m not sure that I care.
There is one thing I do know,
this poem is nearly done.
I’m not sure what comes next,
but the future has begun.
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.
I’ve nothing to write, nothing to say,
nothing to do this fine spring day.
I’ve nothing to wish for, nothing to dream.
I’ve no reason to belt out a scream.
But scream I will if I choose,
what the hell, I’ve nothing to lose.
Well, maybe a little, as we all do.
But if you choose I’ll scream with you.
Feeling better, so do I,
now to enjoy the morning sky.
That was easy, why’d I wait?
I woke up neighbors but I feel great.
It’s always good to blow off some steam.
It’s always faster than it would seem.
If you’re not moved, stay out of the way.
Good morning to all, have a nice day.
Wow! It seems like only yesterday, time was mine but slipped away.
Where it’s gone I can not say.
Perhaps tomorrow, again I’ll play.
But then again I can nay say.
What if tomorrow’s we could choose?
Life lessons learned without dues.
Every game played never to lose.
A world of friendship, all a muse.
But then again we sometimes lose.
Imagine a life of only bliss, to relive again our first kiss.
With each day better we’ve none to miss.
What could be better than a life like this?
But then again there’s times I’d miss.
Today’s the day I change the world,
or should I say just me?
But every action makes a ripple,
some smaller than we see.
Ripples collide to ripple anew,
the rippling’s never done.
I’ll start this day with a thoughtful wave.
And the change has now begun.
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.
The bloom has gone from my fragrant rose.
Will it return, no one knows.
The thorns are still there, in my side.
The bleeding continues yet the words now hide.
The trellis climbed, my energy’s spent.
Yet each day I wake in search of a scent.
The ground’s now closer, I taste the dirt.
My feelings strong but now they hurt.
Perhaps a tree I’ll now befriend.
Trees live long, I’ll miss their end.
My pen will rest as I branch out.
I’ll climb again but poetry’s in doubt.
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.
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.
My poem today starts at the end.
It begins with a letter I didn’t send.
She kissed my cheek then closed the door.
We departed as friends though I hoped for more.
Our morning was rushed and I left in haste.
My ship was sailing, I’d no time to waste.
A week then passed and her letter I received.
Perhaps her feelings were more than perceived.
Her English was poor but my French was nil.
If it were better I might know her still.
I reread that letter ten times a day.
Her words, once vibrant, soon faded away.
Her youth’s everlasting as I’ve grown,
decades long past, her name’s now unknown.
And now miles divide as the time multiplies.
Yet still in mind I gaze in her eyes.
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.
The sun yet risen, the sky yet blue.
Yet my day grows brighter in my view.
A dream begins when I open my eyes.
The truth is seen as she lies.
Truth is felt with a gentle kiss.
She pulls me closer to share the bliss.
I feel her breath, our heartbeats in sync.
Our body’s one, none to think.
But if thoughts be had none compare.
A fantasy found, in love we stare.
Temperatures rise in the new dawns glow.
Our senses awaken, whispers flow.
Visions guide our pleasures sought.
Tomorrow’s now, time has taught.
Our love given is love received.
And another day we’ve achieved.
It fogs my thoughts and ruins my sleep.
I now count likes because I’m the sheep.
Powerless for a day and I went insane,
I think the web’s controlling my brain.
I spend many hours checking the news.
Then I research the reasons for my blues.
The puzzled web of opinions never ends.
And I’ve games galore so I don’t need friends
I can take lots of photos no one will see,
recording things that were important to me.
I can compose emails and send a text,
then constantly wait for what comes next.
I can phone in my car with maps on the screen.
The music’s unlimited and videos seen,
I can cast to TV and see it large.
But I need a break; it’s time for a charge.
I warn you now, do not read this.
There are no verses of enlightened bliss.
There’s not a word you would ever miss.
It’s but a passage as I reminisce.
Parts are true, some maybe not.
Time has fogged and some forgot.
Its pages of perspective yet to have a plot,
it’s yet to have an end or a juggernaut.
To a readers’ mind it’s a fictional brew.
And like yours parts too are true.
Our characters blended to shade our hue.
Our morals sculpted to fit our view.
Dreams are added, we all share those.
They’re a third of our life no one knows.
They’re also the guide that shapes and grows.
Our time awake, the dreaming then shows.
Memories linger and lessons remain.
There’s good and bad but none to regain.
Forwards the choice regardless the brain,
the author’s irrelevant; we’ve all had our pain.
If you’ve read this far just wait and see.
Our stories are similar, I think you’ll agree.
Our life is lived with hopes to be free.
And the ending’s the same for you and me.
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.
I knew one day the time would come.
I knew one day my mind would numb.
This world it seems has gone awry.
Opinions flourish and people die.
Violence consumes and tears are shed.
Words are spoken but nothing’s said.
Charts are made to show us why.
Colors obscure the pictures’ lie.
Don’t be fooled this April day.
For one and all is what I say.
Numbers are tricky and often sly.
So think more equal so less will die.