writing

A Holiday Plan

It all starts when the turkey is done.
A month flies by while on the run.
I don’t mean to be a Scrooge or Grinch,
but I can be either in a pinch.
~
I don’t really hate the holidays,
but time could be spent in better ways.
We cut down trees to place on stands.
We’ll slap on balls with eager hands.
~
We cover it in lights to watch it glow.
Then when droopy to the curb it’ll go.
We wrap up gifts to pile high,
then the bill comes in and we all cry.
~
We’ll fill up bags with excess waste,
adding last year’s things we bought in haste.
So maybe next year we can stop and pause.
And maybe give a vacation to old Santa Claus.

~*~
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Weathering Christmas

‘Twas the day after Christmas and all through our town,
the snow had all melted leaving grass colored brown.
New sleds with bows all waited out back.
New hats and gloves all piled in a stack.
~
The weather was warm but the sky a dark gray.
Bikes too must wait for a sunnier day.
Then rain fell heavy just after lunch.
The wind started blowing, mom had a hunch.
~
She gathered the candles and charged her phone.
She called up her parents who were home all alone.
We then jumped in the car, our mission was clear.
We’d drive to their house to bring Christmas cheer.
~
The wind grew stronger, ripping branches from trees.
We saw a strange man in a puddle on skis.
We got to their house, the decorations still lit.
We all rushed in but there’s no time to sit.
~
Gram packed a few things and was ready to go.
Gramps starred out the window wishing for snow.
We squeezed in the car for our long journey home.
Then gramps yelled “Stop! I’ve forgotten my comb.”
~
Gram said “Keep going, you can use mine.”
Gramps, with a smile, said “That’ll be fine.”
Then sis started crying, a bathroom was needed.
“Hurry up mom” she anxiously pleaded.
~
Mom said to wait; there’d soon be a chance.
“If not” she joked “you can soon try new pants.”
Sis got the message and quietly she pouted.
“I have to go too,” Gramps then loudly shouted.
~
Mom kept on going, our street was now near.
But the driving was slow, the weather severe.
Our house then appeared but the driveway was gone.
So mom stomped on the gas and drove up the lawn.
~
We jumped from the car and ran to the door.
Dad was there waiting, looking unsure.
We took off our coats and hung them to dry.
Then lightning went boom and lit up the sky.
~
The lights went out but our fireplace was warm.
We all huddled closely to ride out the storm.
We woke the next morning all stacked around our tree.
Our presence was felt and the day was rain free.

~*~
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Tomorrows Start Today

The morning’s young, the night is past.
The time is now but it’s going fast.
Awaken now from your peaceful rest.
Today’s the day to start your quest.
~
Risen with the sun all will grow.
Though paths oft long, journey’s often slow.
With eyes toward the future, feet on the ground,
heart beats guide to destinations found.
~
Relish each moment without delay.
Thanks to be given along the way.
Share the joy with all you meet.
Tomorrows, then we’ll gladly greet.

~*~
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Good to Know

The start is now, no time to waste.
There’s no need to hurry or need for haste.
No need to rush, just plan it out.
Then wishes come true without a doubt.
~
Every second’s new and hours remain.
Cherish the past there’s much to gain.
Wear a smile upon your face.
Share with others your style and grace.
~
Dwell on the good, acknowledge the bad.
Time’s ever changing and some time’s bad.
Look for the negative and you’ll find a lot.
Lean towards the positive and sway when not.
~
Our state of mind leads the way.
Wake with vigor and enjoy the day.
Awaken to gloom and there’s nowhere to go.
I’m still surviving, so this I know.

~*~
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Check, Please!

The writing’s on a wall that’s yet to exist.
An empire crumbles for the shallowest of tryst.
With ignorance and spite winning the day,
our sky overhead turns blue to gray.
~
Made up beliefs distort the goal,
wishing for heaven but digging a hole.
A nation’s torn and the world’s to follow.
Easy solutions are always hollow.
~
Arrogance shines when senses dulled.
Kings are spawned when pawns are lulled.
Rooked again by another’s sin,
digits lose but the commas win.
~
A billion reasons just a handful knows,
only time will tell how this story goes.
I hope someday to write a happy end,
when the traitor’s torn, then to mend.

~*~
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Dead Tired

.
Finally, the end of the longest day of my life was over. The tears of the past months now free to flow yet strangely absent. This old house quieter than ever, the door closing behind me and the true sense of emptiness was now being felt as I never thought possible.

Leading up to my wife’s death, friends, family and of course my daughter were always close by and the grief shared by all. Now the house is dark as I stand in the hallway not wanting to turn on the light for fear of seeing the reality of finally being alone.

The hall was brighter just this morning as the sun rose and my daughter and I went off to the funeral parlor for Liz, my wife’s final service before our trip to the cemetery. The morning was crisp and clear, a distant smell of lilac hung in the air as the cars lined up for the procession.

The route chosen was considerably longer than necessary but a twisty country road in full spring bloom is a sight to be enjoyed, even if it to be the last. The funeral itself was as beautiful as anyone could expect, the morning mist lingered in the new day and the birds serenaded in the background as hundreds of mourners passed to show love, friendship and respect for a truly remarkable person. A woman whom I loved deeply for many, many years but now feeling I never fully acknowledged as a person or professional and was regretting having not expressed it more when she was alive. I hoped she knew of my love and respect for her as a mother and friend, as a physician, scientist and teacher and of course as a very lucky man’s wife.

The next few days a similar sad and hazy blur, I just roamed from one room to the next recalling all the little things that happened in each one over the thirty years living here. Each had a story, a laugh or tear, all where ours, our colors, our furniture, our books and our clutter. Each and every piece a memory and all memories of an instant in time to never be repeated. A life time that was a life’s time in the making and yet gone in an instant.

Life goes on I’m told and I would like to believe that. I’m sure for many it does. For some however it’s just not meant to be. I realized this when the crumpled remains of my car was dumped in my driveway minutes ago. And I never got to say goodbye.

The End

sck061817 / dft

Day Anew or Deja Vu

I woke up nice and early,
to start my day off right.
I tip-toed to the kitchen,
to watch the new day’s light.
~
I made myself a coffee,
one sugar but never cream.
The water didn’t boil;
I thought it was a dream.
~
I went back to the bedroom;
I found I was still there.
I slept rather peacefully;
it gave me quite a scare.
~
The cat was also sleeping,
curled up in a ball.
I gave her a little scratch,
she didn’t move at all.
~
I nudged my sleeping wife,
she didn’t make a peep.
I cuddled up beside her,
hoping I’d fall asleep.
~
The cat was first to rise,
soon jumping off the bed.
My wife then too awoke,
turning her pretty head.
~
She didn’t even see me,
as I lay there by her side.
I could see she was awake,
her eyes were open wide.
~
I feared that I was dead,
now a ghost out to haunt.
I gazed into the mirror,
I did look rather gaunt.
~
My wife started screaming,
shaking the sleeping me.
I knew we had a problem;
the evidence’s plain to see.
~
The alarm then started ringing,
time came into view.
I gasped for needed air;
I then started the day anew.

~*~
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Old News

A milestone’s coming and it’ll be soon,
decades in wait, seen many a moon.
Suns have risen and all have set.
There’ll be a last, but not there yet.
~
A half dozen here and a half dozen there,
a middle’s been found, but I don’t care.
The body’s slowing, as is the mind.
Questions answered but still more to find.
~
Thoughts now scattered as a puzzle unmade.
Borders redrawn as the memories fade.
Steps now higher as heights decline.
Trips once painful now feel fine.
~
Aggression decreases and assertiveness rules.
Passivity wanes when there’s less to lose.
Life’s still good with passion unfazed.
With a muse to love I’m daily amazed.
~
The support of all knows no ends.
Thanks to be given to family and friends.
Yes, a milestone’s coming, but it won’t be bad.
Sixty’s just a number, no need to be sad.

~*~
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Just Dessert

I’ve had my fill, now I get cake.
And a warm embrace when I awake.
I’ll have a dozen kisses, oh so sweet.
Or maybe thirteen for a bakers’ treat.
~
The frosting I’ll save until the end.
And I’ll share it all with my best friend.
We’ll enjoy it fresh and then make more.
Forever nourished, that’s what love’s for.

~*~
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To Two Too

Compelled to create an abstract,
with words yet to exist.
Visions created of realism,
with lines all amiss.

Leaving photographic memories,
questioning negative beliefs.
Setting free thoughts drawn out,
frame-less shapes hung in relief .

Day is night on canvas white,
rainbow palettes breathing life.
The bull’s tempered with a knife.
Clouds grow with strokes of blue.

Heat is felt with a brush of teeth.
Cold repelled under layered coats.
Bloody ink beats forever free.
Pages fill black ultimately.

All is done at infinity,
Beyond now we can’t see
Stories tell meaning depends.
Writing starts abstraction ends.

~*~
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Thankful Beginnings

I started to write a love poem but it had no end.
As the love I’m now feeling surely will transcend.
If only to imagine tomorrow’s blissful ways,
the sun will shine inside and out the remainder of our days.
~
Smiles and laughter fill our time with kisses in between.
Some good natured guidance shared, but never ever mean.
Together we’re always playful, never do we fight.
We’d rather be making love; morning, noon and night.
~
We contemplate the sunset sipping our evening tea.
We’ll cuddle in bed later while we watch late night TV.
We wake up every morning snuggled together as one.
We’re thankful for each other and the new day we’ve begun.

~*~
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A Little Proof

The forest is gone where once a home.
A people lost, now destined to roam.
Legends of old speak of their race,
though only of blurs, never a face.
~
Smaller than dwarves, bigger than fairies,
their language mistaken for frantic canaries,
they’re easily missed being so small.
A full grown adult’s barely twelve inches tall.
~
Their numbers blossomed to one hundred per tree.
Nature, their home, they could be no more free.
They chose to stay hidden, out of harm’s way.
The choice wasn’t theirs, they learned the hard way.
~
The giants invaded with axes in hand.
They chopped and cut for towns they had planned.
Centuries have passed and the invasion persists.
The Liluns survived but only few still exist.
~
They still choose to hide and that’s probably good.
As the giants don’t always do as they should.
Their wishes fulfilled at whatever the cost.
This story’s the proof of the many who’ve lost.

~*~
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A Day on the Farm

The sun’s our clock, rooster alarm.

Up to start a day on the farm.

Fresh air and sunshine all long day.

Eat our breakfast then on our way.

.

I put on my boots, coat and hat.

And find a glove under the cat.

Out the door to the bunnies hutch.

They eat  pellets they don’t like much.

.

My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

.

Next we’re off to feed the plump hens.

Gather eggs, clean muddy pig pens.

We’ll hose it down then slop the sows.

Grab our pails and milk the cows.

.

Feed the mare, sleeps in the sable.

I’ll ride her soon when I’m able.

First she’s brushed then gets oats and hay.

We do all these things twice a day

.

In the garden, vegetables grow.

Sprout from seeds we plant in a row.

Water well, pluck weeds in between.

Shoe away pests when they’re seen.

.

When all the digging and feeding’s through.

There’s still more on a farm to do.

Pick fresh fruit for mom’s best jelly.

Yummy sweet, wiggles in my belly.

.

Orange balloons float above ground.

Pumpkin pies shared all around.

Our beans are red and peas are green.

The tastiest rainbows ever seen.

.

Life on the farm is so much fun.

Little to do when work is done.

Get up early, busy all day.

We eat our supper then hit the hay.

*

The End

sck091314

The Fragrance of Fickle Follies

Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
~
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
~
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.

~*~
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Simply Grand

One thousand kisses each morning,
a thousand more every night,
ten thousand more in between,
fulfill our days delight.
~
One thousand thoughts about her,
a thousand dreams I’ve known,
ten thousand days or more,
we’ll never be alone.
~
“I love you” a thousand times spoken,
thousands more I’ve heard,
infinity is our goal,
any less is simply absurd.

~*~
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Complete

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.

~*~
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Penning Passions

Another love poem that’s just for you.
It’s another love poem cos it’s what I do.
Though these poems are special in every way,
they’re inspired by our love each and every day.
~
I write each one from deep in my heart.
And each second with you is another’s start.
The passion spills with each word I write.
The passion inspired each and every night.
~
The sun will rise on a good day, for sure.
I’ll wake with zeal to pen you ever more.
You’ll wake to a kiss and my morning creation.
We’ll snuggle close feeling ever more inspiration.

~*~
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Morning Triku #170 ~ Straightish Forward

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~*~
Of Interest to All

The value of life
is not what’s made of given.
But time spent liven.
~

The Bind

If love was defined
and the worlds’ hopes undenied
the poet side lined.
~

Go!

Destinations drive.
Life’s intersections give route.
All roads lead somewhere.

~*~
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