adventure

Time for Time-Out

Time for time-out, it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

`

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

`

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

`

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

`

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

`

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that’s not all.

`

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

`

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

`

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

`

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

`

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

`

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

`

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

`

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

`

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

`

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

 

The End

 

Published at Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

Poetry in Mime

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                              ,                    .
                  ,                   –                 .

              ,                  ,                   .
                                              ?
                                         .
                                             !!!

~
sck032515

Hell No

 

Oh heavens me, look what you’ve done

You made me think and that’s not fun

Specifically of heaven, death and hell

All are places I’d prefer not to dwell

 ~

If must it be I’m to conjure this thought

I shan’t writ thy time devoted naught

Up or down or whatever which way

Or just here and here we’ll stay

 ~

For a crowded place this heaven be

If wings needed to be vertically free

But who goes high and who low?

Answers only they will know

 ~

If there is a they at all

Those who’ve risen, those who fall

Is hell dark or is it bright?

Fires light the darkest of night

 ~

Why when we age, we go where’s hot?

Are we perhaps reserving a spot?

Preparing for our infinity

A cozy place on a molten sea

 ~

Too many questions that I’ve to ask

Too little time for too big a task

Heaven and hell and death, – Oh My!

If answers had I, they’d be a lie

 ~

I’ve wandered and pondered over this stuff

I think I’ve pondered quite enough

Life’s too short and seas too wide

Save thoughts of dying for the other side

 ~

For heaven’s the pathways chosen to roam

And to hell with death ends this poem

~*~

Sck031415

The Show Must Go On

Welcome all to the Hall of Knowledge

Knowing all I don’t allege

Though what’s known within these walls

Is the knowledge all known by no-one at all

 ~

There are no books, tablets or scrolls

Nothings written of what’s unknown

Yet this knowledge exists, all right here

Filling the voids of this knowledge lair

 ~

Knowledge hidden behind these great doors

Muffling the roars of the dragons snores

To open the doors the dragons would soar

Soaring dragons seen nevermore

 ~

There’s also Centaurs that canter to and fro

Whilst the Mers and Unicorns laugh at their show

Some shards of light slip through the cracks

But without reflection they can’t get back

 ~

So this Hall of Knowledge remains ever shuttered

Ensuring that future quests remain unfettered

Now off to the slide of gloom and despair

Or steps to the heavens, way, way up there

 ~

As fitting an ending as ever can be

The show ends here of your fantasy

To go beyond there’s no return

Nothing to live for if nothing to yearn

 ~

Oh!  And one last thing before you go

We can’t tell anyone of this show

We don’t want anyone else to know

Of this place we cannot go

~

Sck022515

Giant in a Shawl

A thigh-high recollection,

of the principal’s floral wall.

Coz that’s the view ya get,

when your only three feet tall

.

I can still hear the chunky heels,

charging down the hall.

She said I stole equipment.

It said it was just a ball.

 .

She dragged me to the office,

then gave my mom a call.

When my mom got there,

I had to tell it all.

 .

I’ve lost a ball or two or more,

hid them in a bathroom stall.

It wasn’t something new,

been doin it since fall.

 .

I’d pick them up after school,

and sell them at the mall.

They sent me out to the bench,

I was feeling very small.

.

But I couldn’t let the other kids,

see me beg and crawl.

The giant roared, hands flew,

I thought they had a brawl.

.

Mom came out, we both went home,

and there began the squall.

Thunderous and long-winded,

I couldn’t help but bawl.

 .

Then what happened next,

I really can’t recall.

I gave back all the money,

stayed after school counting balls.

.

I had to say I’m sorry,

to the giant in the shawl.

So I guess I did remember,

that balls haul after all.

 .

The End

~

Sck122614

A Day on the Farm

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

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.

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Hannah Belles Silence –the beginning

Purple skies yell good night to their dozing sun.

Fire lights the shadows, the nights day’s just begun.

Shades pulled on lives within without the stars to guide.

A ball is had in the deep, dancing to rhythms of tide.

 

Partners forever splash to wash away the light

Din of life slowly fades to the deafening of night.

Eyes shutter, Door hinges squeak there last, and new hands draw air.

Breathing in the day’s last taste, dark of night’s only fair.

 

While others rest, days run on to beat the clock.

Gates alive awake the walks to open doors that need no lock.

Welcoming all workers be, busily buzzing to make life sweet.

Nights or days at Hannah Belles employ a tasty treat.

 

Chimes ring out in the square, alerting all to what’s behind.

Reminding all of what’s ahead and afoot and to jog the mind.

Bottomless pools dot the streets, journeys take forever.

There’s joyous voices all around and angry silence never.

 

Another day in Hannahville, they feed the smiles everywhere.

This factory called Hannah Belle glows without a care.

Whether color gloss or moustache size, styles change, lips stay the same.

Visitors wait in a thin line to leave robust and always glad they came.

 

 

First chapter from Hannah Belles Silence (Charlie passes the candy torch)

 Coming soon to virtual bookstore near you.

sck111414

-Cherry on Top Sundries Shoppe

Every Sunday me and my Pop

Take a walk to the old sundries shop

Winter’s in boots and summer flip-flops

Anytime to the Cherry on Top

*

It’s not just a store, it’s so much more

A magic box filled with sundries galore

It’s everyone’s first and their last stop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Welcoming doors always polished bright

Welcoming all to their sundries delight

Every week is a brand new crop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

*

A place with things too many to list

Lipsticks for lips that want to be kissed

There are bouncing balls and bats that bop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Combs and brushes for hair and teeth

Halloween treats and Holiday wreaths

Baskets for bunnies with ears that flop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Row after row of this’s and that’s

There are racks for jackets, hooks for hats

Handles for brooms and buckets for mops

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

There’s cases packed with trinkets so bright

Batteries stacked for flashlights at night

They’ve got cards to send and cards to swap

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Way at the back, there’s medicines there

Carefully mixed by people who care

They carefully measure, count and chop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Then the place – my favorite of all

It’s the lunch-counter, where I sit tall

Serving pie with whipped cream and gumdrops

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

They’ve cakes, cookies, turkey and roasts

My dad always gets; juice, eggs and toast

Sunday’s best at the old sundries Shoppe

I get my sundae, cherry on top

~

The End

.

Sck102314

Sea Pro

The sun’s beau

The winds foe

Decks glow

All to show

Raisins to sow

Tides to know

Men to grow

Neat hair bow

Tall tales flow

Never eats crow

No one’s schmoe

Mighty as a whales blow

A Skipper’s Joe

Gifts to bestow

Above and below

Much to owe

Life’s to stow

Lines to toe

Oceans to row

Be ready to go

Never say no

When a Bosun says so

Follow the ole Sea Pro

*

sck102014

My Pencil

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be

No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity

No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey

Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree

The End       sck081514

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