poetry

Figmented

In a little town not far from here,
there lived a star, a puppeteer.
She entertained children near and far.
While her husband played his old guitar.
~
The puppets danced and the kids all giggled.
The guitarist sang and everyone wiggled.
But behind the show’s curtain of green,
the puppeteer performs, always unseen.
~
But she’s not sad, she’s quite content,
the show’s always fun and it pays the rent.
Their home life is great with two cats and a dog.
And in a pond nearby they had a pet frog.
~
Their children, now grown and moved far away,
but they all get together for Christmas day.
The tree lit up bright and gifts piled high.
They await the sunrise in the cold winter sky.
~
First up’s the grandkids, it’s time to explore.
Next was the dog that sleeps by the door.
The children were silent peaking at the gifts.
Each on lookout in five minute shifts.
~
Tape’s gently pulled and corners peeled back,
they had to work fast to get through the stack.
The children were careful to not make a mess,
because if caught, next year there’d be less.
~
It didn’t take long for them to realize,
the presents were fake and the pets were spies.
The children panicked and ran back to their beds,
to dream once more of dolls, blocks and sleds.
~
But the parents sat waiting at the top of the stairs.
The kids now caught broke down in tears.
They ruined Christmas and the parents were mad.
The grandparents were disappointed and that was sad.
~
A lecture was given while breakfast they ate.
Grandma’s lesson was good things are worth the wait.
And that things are not always as they appear,
you can take it from her, she’s a puppeteer.
~
Breakfast was finished at a leisurely pace.
Anticipation beamed from everyone’s face.
Then a puppet appeared dressed as Santa Claus,
who passed out presents to much applause.

~*~
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A Gift of Sixty-Four

Fancy wrap can’t hide from my eyes,

A gift that’s familiar in shape and size.

It’s the present that I adore.

They’re the toy that’s never a bore.

*

They’re a box of possibilities,

a forest full of Christmas trees.

A blanket of snow and garlands bright,

with a flicker of lights in the night.

*

They’re singing birdies just for me,

or a sailing ship on a stormy sea.

They’re autumn play and a summer breeze,

the colors of spring and buzzing bees.

*

With this one gift I’ll need no-more.

It’s a box of sixty-four!

There are colors for sad and more for glad.

They’re all perfect and none are bad.

*

What endless choices to be found.

But what is the color of sound?

What is the color of a kiss?

I’ll someday find those colors amiss.

*

They’re jewels in a treasure chest.

Something shared with a special guest.

We draw and print or color books,

while snuggled in our secret nooks.

*

I’m glad they float, though labels’ lost.

Nothing left to be peeled and tossed.

Then guides are gone for shades unknown.

But I’ll know them all, when I’m grown.

*

My cat swats greens under my bed.

My dog’s favorite to eat is red.

We all roll fast and giggle for more.

When they’re like bearings on the floor.

*

We build rainbows to the sky.

Stacked like logs to make towers high.

We lose the ones we like the best.

Then have extras of all the rest.

*

They’re a gift that’s always welcome.

They’re used up quick or saved by some.

Look what Harold did with just one.

My sixty-four are much more fun.

*

Stored neat in a box with a lid that flips,

and a hole on the back to sharpen tips.

Enough to share with all my friends,

we can draw a line that never ends.

*

Though mostly used sparingly,

tucked safe in a drawer, just for me.

They somehow seem to go away.

And just in time for Christmas day.

*

The End

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Under Wraps

The holiday’s upon us, still there’s much to do.
Decorations aren’t yet finished, more presents needed too.
Christmas cards must be sent; first I’ll need a list.
I’ve mistletoe to hang, hoping to be kissed.
~
I’ll skip the wreath this year, unless I find one cheap.
Maybe I’ll get plastic, something I can keep.
There’ll be no fancy paper, tied with ribbons and bows.
The wrap doesn’t matter; it’s the thought that truly shows.
~
The weather is quite nice, I think today’s the day.
I’ll finish all my shopping; make more bills I can’t pay.
Oh! And yes I need a tree, how could I forget.
I’d feel really silly and I’d lose another bet.

~*~
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The Gift That Keeps Giving

(rated R)

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! That’s all I gotta say

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! It’s almost Christmas day

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! Yea – Santa’s on his way

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! I hope he doesn’t stay

*

Christmas last year was our first as newlyweds

Our little home smoky with burnt gingerbreads

Rooms festively strewn and splattered with glitter

The kind of memories that’ll be around forever

 *

His reindeer chomped topiary, displayed in my backyard

Now I have to lie and say it’s really avant-garde

Rudolph took a shining to a bright-eyed decoration

Now he’s singing high notes from electrical castration

*

I also saw Santa smooch my wife under mistletoe

Not a friendly peck but a kiss, deep and slow

I’m ready for him this year, cameras everywhere

I’ll edit-out tomorrow, things I shouldn’t share

*

My lovely mate now fast asleep, safe in our cozy room

Windows shuttered tight, door wedged with a broom

While plump little Nicki slumbers soundly in her cradle

It’s now time for me to prepare, egg-nog, cups and ladle

 *

Plus a special surprise for Santa, it’s sure to be a hoot

I long to see his rosy cheeks when slapped with a paternity suit

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! I’ve one last thing to say

Ho, Ho, Ho to all and have a very merry holiday

 *

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Could Have Been

It was the dawn of the new,
where a seaside village grew.
Novice and native confused.
From each, the other felt used.

Forests deep and oceans wide,
The future unknown, nowhere to hide.
Then hovels cluster to brave surrounds.
Yet perils beckon with all new sounds.

Ships multiply within the decade.
Promises broken to many made.
Seeds planted and families grown,
with the first of the babes now on their own.

One such named Sam, out to fetch wood,
kept up with his mom, best he could.
Yet he dallied about and lost his way,
the first of many, an enlightened day.

Surrounded by darkness, Sam froze, afraid,
awaiting death from his error made.
The silence broken by crackling leaf,
eaten or captured will soon end his grief.

There, in the moonlight to Sam’s surprise,
a scared young native shone in his eyes.
Sam huddled close to his new friend Fawn.
They shared the warmth to the new day’s dawn.

Their words spoken with only a glance,
parting dear friends made by chance.
Fawn pointed east, Sam’s path home.
He turned to thank her, yet she did roam.

Sam soon safe, years soon pass.
Herds dwindle, slaughtered in mass.
Danger dies when dangers’ burn,
for the dream of freedom, we all yearn.

With prey all around for the attack,
it’s the hardy to fore and lesser to back.
Muskets in hand they hunt the beast.
The fallen the joy of the autumnal feast.

Alone in the wood, sun’s fading fast,
Sam’s in a daze lost in the past.
He sat and pondered without any fear,
recalling Fawn, his long-lost dear.

Thanks to her, Sam’s here today,
assisting her ruin to make his way.
Then silence broken by crackling leaf,
there stood his Fawn, ending his grief.

Sam rose in the moonlight that shone in her eyes.
Her pain carved deep by the years of her cries.
The pair ventured north, as far as they could.
Their legend ends there in the peace of the wood.

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Holinight

Pumpkins on the steps,
gravestones on the lawn,
ghouls dancing in the yard.
Keep out before the dawn!
~
Soon it will be the day,
my favorite of the year.
Kids running in the streets,
we’ve treats we love to share.
~
Don’t forget the costumes,
this year I’m a queen.
Mom gave me her wig,
and dad’s not too keen.
~
My brother is a cowboy,
he’s the same every time.
He likes to wear the badge;
in case there is a crime.
~
My dog wears a bow,
it’s black for Halloween.
His bark is really scary,
but he’s never really mean.
~
We’ll go out after supper,
when the sun is going down.
We’ll meet up with a friend;
she just moved into town.
~
I showed her the best streets;
our bags could hold no more.
We all then hurried home,
we didn’t miss a door.
~
Mom will sort our treats;
my brother plays his tricks.
I save the licorice,
and dad likes a mix.

~*~
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Ben to Sea

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I am Ben and I’m off to sea,

ships ahoy and aye, aye matey.

I’ll sail all the oceans blue,

or maybe just a chosen few.

*

Pack my coat and hat for my head.

Bring a blanket for my new bed.

Teddy must stay with all my toys.

Sailors don’t need them, just small boys.

*

I’ll have no school or boring chores.

Just climbing rigging, manning oars.

I’ll tie knots and tell sea tales –

of pirates treasure, storms and whales.

*

I’ll sleep at sunset, rise at dawn.

Then swab the decks not mow the lawn.

I’ll eat ships biscuit and dried peas.

But hold the weevils if you please.

*

I’ll make new friends, captain and crew.

I’ll polish the brass just like new.

I’ll travel to faraway lands.

See new faces, shake lots of hands.

*

I’ll grow muscles and learn to swim,

never a splash over the rim.

I’ll grow a beard and get a tan.

Mom won’t know her new little man.

*

I’ll write her name on my sea chest.

Then she’ll know I love her best.

I’ll miss my cat, sister and dad.

I hope leaving won’t make them sad.

*

But I’ll return with gifts for all.

Dads will be big and sister’s small.

Jewels for mom, fish for my cat.

Gramps will get a new sailors hat.

*

Now mom’s calling, bedtime is near.

My journey starts, nothing to fear.

My tub is full, ships wait for me.

Always too short, my trips to the sea.

*

I rub and scrub and have some fun.

Until mom says my bath is done.

Voyage over, out goes the light.

Snug in my bunk I’ll say goodnight.

*

The End

~

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https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472790

Splash!

There once an old dude,
who was quite crude,
the town folk thought him rude.
~
After many a year in love he fell,
his flame however said “go to hell”.
His desires she’d never quell.
~
A stormy winter slowly passed by.
Accustomed to rejection, the dude wasn’t shy.
And persistent he was to always ask why.
~
The spring finally came,
his flame stayed the same,
himself the dude thought to blame.
~
The summer surely hot,
the dude surely not,
his cool long since shot.
~
Autumn’s bluster in the air,
his flame did flicker, he did flare.
The time had tempered each with care.
~
With a Christmas snow soon to arrive,
fire and ice made water to dive.
His flame’s heart thawed and their love did thrive.

~*~
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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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Autumn

.

Autumnal sunsets, nothing new

Clouds ablaze and sky deep blue

Second looks, few hold dear

There’s other thoughts this time of year
.

Weather’s changing and holidays soon

The race for home before the moon

There hunger’s fed and a cozy bed

Then rise with the sun, its path we’re led

.
Orange and yellow now out of reach

Pinks and purples fade to peach

Lilac hues whither to gray

Stars above end the day

.
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Manually Automatic

Time, it would seem, an abstract.
It’s different for everyone.
For some time’s abundant.
While others get nothing done.
~
Clocks all look the same,
calendars do as well.
The sun and moon have a path,
their effect’s clear as a bell.
~
Yet most, most often rushing,
I know I’ve done my share.
Not sure it made a difference,
not sure anyone would care.
~
Eventually time is won,
a token of our age.
Perspective’s ever-changing,
the winding’s ours to gage.

~*~
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The Color of Life

Still I wake knowing not what to do.
Will I be happy or some shade of blue.
I’ve seen birth and I’ve seen death.
I shared my loves very last breath.
~
With time comes change, like it or not.
The good remembered, bad mostly forgot.
With each hue an infinite tone.
The play of light’s what we’re shown.
~
The sun’s journey across the sky,
alters our visions subtly and sly.
In the dark we see the colors of day.
Shadows forever lurk either way.
~
Given the choice all would be bright,
a life coddled in the warmth of light.
Tho the dawn missed and sunset yearned.
Questions unanswered, nothing’s learned.
~
Tomorrows lessons tested today,
all’s pass or fail either way.
And the change must be or not to see.
The cost high but the time’s free.

~*~
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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.
.
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.
.
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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But Then Again

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.

~*~
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