Days pass without a thought. Life flows, words are naught. Fantasy’s forged, reality wrought. Patience builds, time has taught. ~ The future is the past brought. The present is where caught. Work consumes, hurdle fraught. Solace earned, never bought. ~ Joy is when not distraught. Dreams fought, wishes besought. Love defined by what is sought. Success is, as it ought.
I lay awake throughout the night,
ponder do I of what to write.
The morning comes and again I rise.
The page sits blank before my eyes.
~
My head’s foggy the skies clear,
air’s cool and autumn’s near.
My love slumbers, her heat I feel.
My heart warms to what’s now real.
~
A morning ritual loved so much;
I kiss her forehead with a gentle touch.
Hours to pass for her to rise,
a poem awaits her sleepy eyes.
~
Smiles and kisses we then share.
Our need for each other we’re much aware.
My mind now settled and troubles cease.
Another day’s begun with love, joy and peace.
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.
Change is in the air, it’s felt on the breeze. The clock quickly ticking, the wind-up’s been a tease. ~ The future is before us, experiences behind. Knowledge fills our heads, yet we’re truly blind. ~ We’ve hopes for better days, dreaming of peace and love. While fearing the unknown, we seek to rise above. ~ Yesterday’s now gone, premonition’s premature. Tomorrows manifest, yet only now’s for sure. ~ Consistency comforts, surprises feel strange. Seconds are our choices, yet only time will change
When values are charismatic and thought becomes plutocratic, participation is devoid. Then hardship is systematic. ~ When this world seems dramatic and our head’s full of static, anger’s then employed. And hate becomes pragmatic. ~ When life, it seems erratic and joy becomes sporadic, worry fills the void. Then the gloom is traumatic. ~ When time itself is problematic and the future’s enigmatic, trust is then destroyed. And solitude becomes symptomatic. ~ But when we are diplomatic and compassion’s automatic, violence we avoid. Then love is democratic.
Where bumble bees sing to morning blooms, sunshine fills sleepy rooms. Little birds chirp to ring in the day. The town folk thrive and children play. ~ Evening’s all spent cozy and warm; everyone huddles at word of a storm. With a common goal of tranquility, their smiles all share the harmony. ~ Freedom reigns and peace assured, caring for all, we’re all adored. And though this place is yet to be found, in dreams we meet when feet leave the ground.
Lost in a wandering state of mind, returning to memories I thought left behind. A campground awaits from decades of yore, There’s a lake nearby and nature galore.
Summers there filled with family and friends, as the specter of youth unknowingly ends. The journey’s now short to a time long past. My cabin soon appears while the sun fades fast.
The sky was clear, blues deepened to black. The stars shone bright, they welcomed me back. I relaxed on the porch and sipped iced tea, my friends due tomorrow the night was for me.
With waning moon the damp mist rose, crickets serenaded, eyes started to close. Blissful sensations then the start of dreams, when startled was I by familiar screams.
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly! was all she ever said, her childhood taunts now flooding my head. She’s the ghostly remains of horrors we’d share. The truth is haunting when better a nightmare.
She would scratch at the screen above my bed. I’d shriek and shiver and cower with dread. Mornings would come, I’d report of my fright, “that little girl’s ghost came to take me last night”.
My brothers would tease and mom consoled, dad says they’re figments of tales I’ve been told. But when evenings cool and crescent moon high, dense fog rose and that child would cry.
Dolly, dolly, dolly is all she would say, Her bony hand summoned and pointed the way. Never dared I answer her mournful request. Silently I’d wait, ignoring my guest.
It’s been many years since last we met. Time I’ve tried hard, but to never forget. Now I’ve matured and conscience will decide. Am I to seek or again shall I hide?
I know not what of this phantoms despair. Yet together there’s grief we seemingly share. Her woe is death while mine’s the living. Each is assured though neither forgiving.
Our paths have crossed, all have an end. My choice is made by this spirited friend. With eyes open wide follow I must, forsaking not, that lost child’s trust.
I rose and leaned forward, held out my hand. Our fate’s to obey and to command. We dashed through the field and into the woods. A moment imagined of pleasant childhoods.
Each step echoes with brittle twig snap. Till the shadows of trees soon overlap. To guide my way mere slivers of light, pursuing my phantom into the night.
Thicket and bramble claw at my skin, bleeding the courage from deep within. The worn paths end at fresh fallen leaf, this forest beyond, beyond my belief.
Spirits roam free where the living don’t tread. My friend had returned to her life of the dead. I wished again to hide safe behind closed eyes, trading this vision for dreams of blue skies.
The girl then pointed at boulders stacked high, interwoven with brush to hide from the eye. All layers of shadow, grays deepened to black, foretelling the depth of crevice and crack.
Her hazy glow grew brighter, eyes more intense, repeated cries for dolly now making sense. She’s lost a dear friend and I’m chosen to find. To abandon now this child was beyond unkind.
Exited are we, our quest’s nearly done. ‘Twas a test of persistence, both surely won. My mind’s now a flutter, heart beating proud, grasping in darkness through thick thorny shroud.
Our search going well till that last step was taken, the ground then vanished, I was tumbled and shaken. I awoke sometime later to whispers, mumbles and cries. My new friend stood close as I opened my eyes.
I saw Dolly held tightly and a bustle nearby. Mourners had grouped where a still body lie. A lifeless figure with a familiar shape and size. The live too are familiar, all saying goodbyes.
The little girl thanked me for my many good deeds. As slowly she faded having found what she needs. I begged to be taken for I’ve been truly kind. When last she said “You need first find needs left behind.”
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.
I’ve done lots of things. But I haven’t done them all. There’s still much to do. And my list isn’t small. ~ My time’s growing short. My energy’s sinking fast. But I’ll never quit, as long as I can last. ~ Dawn will start my days. I’ll survive a wingsuit flight. Languages I’ll learn. And songs I’d love to write. ~ I’ll sail all the seas. But that’s gonna take a while. For now, smaller goals, today I’ll share some smiles.
The culmination of a once great nation, founded on principles of liberalization. Enlightenment trumping degradation, thoughts unbound, no stagnation. ~ Liberty unleashing new illumination. Opinions unfounded fuel frustration. Left and right debate causation. Answers found no destination. ~ Conformity’s no coadunation. Thoughtlessness fuels desperation. Interdependence declares restoration. Higher ground’s no damnation. ~
I need to fix my plumbing. But Powerball’s not forthcoming. Disappointment is always numbing. Yesterday I was humming. ~ I’ve no reason to be bumming. Another chance is coming. So, today I’m back to strumming. If I win, I’ll try some drumming.
There’s a change in the air, its felt everywhere. Will it be warmth or an icy blow? Outside’s to venture to ever know. ~ The future nears, with future fears. The past’s a guide, or where to hide. ~ Scrambled thoughts shaped in rhyme, shadows mask the light of time. Moments killed, perspective’s born, clearly focused or forever torn. ~ Doors lock, window’s seen, vistas vary with a lean. Steps taken never still, ups and downs, want and will. ~ At a point all paths meet, minds move not feet. Hearts feel, hands express, lips promise; life’s a guess.
rhymesalot 
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