nature

Fiscal New Year

The mistletoe’s gone for another year.
Alarm bells ringing bring no cheer.
The party’s over, Monday’s arrived,
the holiday’s done, at least I survived.
~
Back to normal I must now go.
Work I must to pay what I owe.
Bills are coming and debts surely grew.
Saving’s diminished; it’s time to make new.
~
Coffee is drunk but the mood is sober.
I’ve interest to pay, maybe done by October.
A resolution I’ve made to end this spree.
But Valentines is coming and gifts there will be.
~
So returns I’ll exchange as sales are waiting,
There are deals galore, no time for debating.
There’s much to do to start this New Year.
Hopefully by spring my plan will be clear.

~*~
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The Fallen

Summer love leads to fall.
Autumnal changes effects all.
Leaves turn, soon to drop.
Life moves on and won’t stop.
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Chills felt to the bone.
Warmth’s gone when alone.
Seasons cycle as they must.
Tomorrows come, we have to trust.
.
Truth felt in the heart.
Minds make lies art.
Sleep’s unknown for many a night.
Sadness fills each line I write.
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If not loved a future is to find.
If not a poet, perhaps then blind.
Hues created we want to see.
Now the fall’s here for you and me.

~*~
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Beyond

Waking up contented,
I’ve a morning that’s well scented.
The smell of autumn’s in the air.
And soon enjoyed as a pair.
~
But for now she sleeps in peace,
intertwined with cats and fleece.
But after coffee or maybe two,
I’ll wake my love to skies of blue
~
Her eyes will open and I’ll be there.
Morning smiles we’ll then share.
As we’ve done since the spring,
we’ll listen to the birdies sing.
~
We’ll chat about the future ahead,
or muse about our dreams instead.
But no matter, we always agree,
there’s no place we’d rather be.
~
Our day’s now filled with joy and bliss,
always time to hug and kiss.
Our love’s created a lifelong bond,
forever contented and beyond.

~*~
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Seasonal Repetitions

Autumn’s now upon us, leaves soon to fall,
Halloween’s next and the witches’ ball.
Then comes Thanksgiving, turkeys best beware.
We’ll all give our thanks then devour our share.
~
But then it’s winter and snow glazes our thought.
Christmas sneaks up and we give things we bought.
New Year’s follows and we all share a toast.
Then we long for Valentines to indulge who we love most.
~
We wait in gloom for spring to see flowers sprout.
The days now growing longer, jackets now in doubt.
Summer arrives to much fanfare, hot dogs fill our guts.
We’ll bake in the noon day sun, I think that we’re all nuts.
~
Then summers shine finally dims.
We’ll wish for fall and cover limbs.
And another year now is done.
And another year’s now begun.
~
Every season is a special time.
Some have favorites and that’s no crime.
Some may feel that they all are bad.
But not the poets and for that I’m glad.

~*~
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No Surprise

Cold and rainy, windy and gray,
it’s the other kind of autumn day.
Colorful hues now go unseen,
memories fade of summer’s green.
~
The chill reminds of a time that’s near.
In shades of white we’ll spread our cheer.
Then a year that’s new but just the same.
Resolutions made but just buy name.
~
Spring will come and usher rebirth.
Warmth’s to follow; we feel its worth.
Then back to autumn, life will change.
We know it’s coming but it feels strange.
~
Another year has come and gone.
Some rejoice, some will mourn.
Each year bringing a new surprise,
how it’s seen is through our eyes.

~*~
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Keeping Spirits

Nature batters, scarring far and wide.
Forgotten battles forever tied.
Man and rock bear the loss of all who’ve died.
Rugged faces change with the changing of a tide.

Keeping the wary from a watery hell,
a craggy post a dutiful keeper dwell.
Keeping by day his glass shined bright,
by night he keeps his flame alight.

Warning all comers never to near,
this beacon of virtue is only to fear.
Bravely they stand against wind and wave,
the ocean master, keeper slave.

Chores of many, companions none.
Sleep begins when work is done.
Ventures end before the dark.
His light stands silent awaiting spark.

Beyond this rock and choppy cove,
a small town lie where tales are wove.
Stories of stormy seas abound,
and faraway lands where treasure’s found.

In town sits a churchyard overlooking the sea.
Where the keeper visits when a calm day’s free.
Collects his needs quickly, no time for desire.
His row is long to return to his fire.

Scores of seasons drifted behind.
The keeper and kept, two of a kind.
Their toils unnoticed, yet seen by all.
Keeping kept the keepers call.

Reflections of stars upon the sea.
Infinite horizons awaiting he.
A beacon to all, his lamp not aglow.
To see the light the keep did go.

The town sad for their keeper unknown.
He was buried with care as one of their own.
At the edge of the churchyard lie the keep.
With eternal vistas of the light and the deep.

Dozens of keepers tried to keep.
All had left quickly, missing their sleep.
Stories told of the old keeper’s ghost.
A most spirited and demanding of host.

He rattled windows and slammed doors,
once hid away the old rowboats oars.
His steps are heard on the stairs all night,
sometimes blowing out the lighthouse’s light.

On a chilly morn some years past,
a storm was brewing, approaching fast.
A hardy young sailor paddled for the light,
racing the waves ahead of the night.

With setting sun and drenching rain,
wind and waves pummeled, no refrain.
Shores altered with the rising tide,
The hilltop churchyard couldn’t hide.

The keeper’s remains returned to sea.
The young sailor now keeps – happily.
And ever since that fateful day,
the old keeps spirit kept at bay.

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Startin’

Oh, what to do, oh what to do?
My day is free, and the sky is blue.
There’s chores to do, my list is long.
My old guitar needs a new song.
~
I’ve coffee for sippin’, a chair for sittin’,
and that morning sun’s warmin’ my heart.
The birds are singin’ and peace it’s bringin’,
so far, a mesmerizin’ start.

~*~
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UP

A change of season and of time,
peaks are near yet more to climb.
Years can pass with little to show.
Seconds can linger if not to grow.

Minds may dwell in the past.
Yesterday’s gone the changes last.
These changes happen every day.
Forward moving is the way.

Hearts oft bare a heavy load.
Sorrows deep, life slowed.
Feet dragged run in reverse.
Hands that push are the curse.

Tomorrow’s here when we wake.
Light or dark’s a choice we make.
See the beauty that slept within.
Feel the love, let the future begin.

~*~
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Out of the Fog

light house

~~~

I woke today before the dawn,
jumped out of bed with a stretch and a yawn.
A dense fog filled sleepy eyes.
There’s a chill in the air, no surprise.
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Sweater on and coffee made,
dreams of night soon to fade.
Dreams of love soon to flow,
I’ll send my poem to let you know.
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Our time together now is near.
Eyes wide open all is clear.
I’ll think of my day shared with you.
And the great times we have whatever we do.

~*~
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Seeing the Light

Shades of perfection –
a pause for reflection.
Softness felt on shapely curves,
a goddess of light, calming nerves.
~
Time stands still shaped in stone.
A memory forged, never alone.
Shadows illuminate visions anew.
Shades of perfection – as are you!

~*~
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Special thanks to the unknown photographer and inspirational model 🙂

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The seas choppy there’s no port in sight.
A paradise found disappeared overnight.
Alone on the bridge now’s time to reflect.
When a course assured why reject?

Charts bear no point with a destination behind.
And the oceans small in space I find.
A tern overhead I’ve still to hope.
For the sailor, line’s life, there is no rope.

~*~
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Blips

I’m sick of heartbreak; it’s time to move past.
But this isn’t a love poem, that’d be too fast.
I won’t be pondering heaven or hell.
So where does a recovering poet dwell.
~
Whether writers block or writer’s cramp,
a king of yore or disheveled tramp,
I’ve a reign of reams at my command.
I’ve time and space in my hand.
~
I’ve a rocket ship that’s faster than light.
I dance with spirits in the night.
I’ve helmed a ship through stormy seas,
wrestled a friend in a hive of bees.
~
I’ve felt love and feel it missed.
A new day’s today and sunshine kissed.
And though this poem has no middle or end,
it’s a blip in cyberspace, again to send.

~*~
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Picture’s Read

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Life creates the lines we wear.
They’re traced upon the face we share.
Smiles turned up spread everyday joy.
Pouty faces think hearts a toy.
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Lips arced down build no bridges.
Crinkled brows scaled ridges.
Eyes bright glow through the night,
eyes down dwelt shade their light.
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Enthusiasm shines with a spark.
Heartache shines in the dark.
Time wrinkles the more we press.
Smooth is felt, not a guess.
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Directions clear when maps unfold.
Routes we’ve drawn, our story told.
Hellos leave more to see.
Loves image is good bye free.
~
I wish for the lines of long ago.
I wish to watch that of another grow.
A fateful glance we’re sure to know,
little things make the big picture show.

~*~
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On a Roll

Her scent lingers, I flushed away.
I sense the push of another shitty day.
She polluted my mind and soiled my bed.
Leave me alone, get out of my head!
~
We fed our needs and ate our cake.
Her outside sweet, her inside’s fake.
Her taste and touch I felt were real.
Now pinched cheeks is all I feel.
~
My hand shades so not so crass,
this burst of gas I hope to pass.
And groan some notes for a while,
refreshing again this steaming pile.
~
Time trickles naturally.
But stand I must eventually.
A gentle pull will clear the residue.
Her memory wiped but some sticks like glue.

~*~
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Bird Brains

I woke up early and the sky was gray.
The world’s in turmoil yet I’ve little to say.
But the birds are happy in the mulberry tree.
I can hear them laughing, maybe at me.
~
They see our world from high above,
whether gull, robin or mourning dove.
Their time alive is soaring free,
while looking down on you and me.
~
For if to fly like a bird,
we’d then flock but never herd.
We’d hatch into a nest well made,
free of worry cos no rent’s paid.
~
Just think of the places we could go.
We could fly south before the snow.
We could eat berries, bugs and worms,
pretty much anything that wiggles or squirms.
~
There’d be no alarms or jobs we hate.
We could fly to the stars our very first date.
Then glide back down to a favorite tree.
There we’d rest harmoniously.
~
But we’re not birds and that’s a shame.
Our lives are grounded and mostly tame.
But if to wish on this day that’s gray,
I’d poop on those who stand in the way.
~
So maybe my wish is not about birds.
It’s about people I think are turds,
those who’ve prevented a world of peace,
for you and me and a gaggle of geese.

~*~
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Skipper’s Lane

Around the bend from the church on main,
lies a quaint little street, called Skipper’s Lane.
T’was on this path a young lad dwelled,
before the streets’ name or the lad propelled.
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The tale goes: At the head of a cove the sandbar’s long.
The water’s choppy and the currents strong.
A young lad fished, he netted all day.
At sunset he rowed to the town up the bay.
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He traded his catch for supplies and some cash.
He then rowed back home and buried his stash.
Years soon passed and the lad’s now a man.
The time was now to dig up an old can.
~
The cans held his savings, he’s more than a few.
The man, now called Netty, had something to do.
Netty rowed into town, to buy but not sell.
He bought a new boat with a bright shiny bell.
~
He towed the boat home not knowing how to sail.
A year’s practice behind then caught in a gale.
Netty stayed calm, his life, spent afloat.
Home was in sight when he saw a tossed boat.
~
The boat missed the inlet, now blowing out to sea.
Though Netty unsure, he could not leave them be.
Adjusting his sails Netty raced to give aid.
Soaked and battered he would not be afraid.
~
Lost memories filled young Netty’s head.
Recalling the night, he was almost dead.
The sky was black and the water cold.
The ship sat heavy, filled with gold.
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Remembering screams and cracking wood,
the ship’s bell rang, gone childhood.
The boy hit the water and woke on the shore.
The life he once knew was no more.
~
A crashing wave broke Netty’s trance,
one second more he’d lose his chance.
He leaned on his tiller to bring his boat near.
The boats colliding mustered everyone’s fear.
~
Netty thought quickly and dropped his sheet,
then heaved his net around a cleat.
He pulled and pulled with all his might.
His biggest catch was that stormy night.
~
All returned safely before the sun rose.
Netty now a hero was gifted new clothes.
New friends were made, now one’s Netty’s wife.
Recounting his memories he bought a new life.
~
The gold recovered, Netty bought lots of land.
He built a grand home well away from the sand.
The harbor in view he watches over his fleet.
The town, now prosperous, gave Netty a street.

~*~
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See the Light

My candle flickers in distant panes.
Main Street silent, the starlight wanes.
Icy fingers grip my bones.
Frozen breath chills my moans.
~
My story begins and none too soon.
Shadows long for the hidden moon.
The hour’s late, the journey’s long.
The sun’s rise unseen if again I’m wrong.
~
My goal’s a king born a pawn,
To live again, this moment’s gone.
Blindness hides the cold hard truth.
Hindsight magnifies the lies of youth.
~
My pride swallowed, visions lull.
Biting winds gnaw at my skull.
Clouds engulf a blizzard near,
too many steps, too late to swear.
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My goal is clear, survive the night.
There is no choice to stand and fight.
The path uncharted, each step’s new,
to trip and fall death’s in view.
~
My head is pounding, my body aches.
The thrust is forward to reverse mistakes.
Apologies given but time doesn’t care.
Words mean nothing if not to share.
~
My mind is blank, my heartbeats race.
Howling wolves set the pace.
Clothes in tatters, my bare feet bloody.
If I shall live, my pain they’ll study.
~
My memories linger of a forgotten past.
Dreams awaken, a future’s cast.
Dawn surely near, nightmares recede.
My eyes then open to all that I need.

~*~
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Seasoned

The first whiff of autumn’s in the air.
A moment new that we’ll all share.
The flowers wilting and sweaters out,
should be ready, there’s never a doubt.
~
But each day’s new is always the way.
Only yesterdays are here to stay.
The leaf cycles; green, gold to gone.
To the earth they all are drawn.
~
With time comes age for good and bad.
We all cycle forward, happy and sad.
And like the leaf we too shall fall.
Winter’s coming, but not for all.

~*~
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