The time of the day that’s bittersweet.

Resting our heads, eyes and feet.

Day’s not over much left to do.

Watch TV or go to the zoo.


I’m not tired, it’s not too late.

Just a few hours, that’ll be great.

I’ll clean my room, music down low.

Fold some laundry, put on a show.


So many things better than sleep,

Reading a book, taking a leap.

Or have a snack by candlelight.

Why must we always waste our night?


I’m not ready for bedtime yet.

I might miss things that I’ll regret.

Things are missed when you close your eyes.

Can’t see stars or watch the sunrise.


If nights awake I’d sleep all day.

I’ll have no time for friends or play.

I guess if there’s a choice to make –

I’ll sleep at night, spend day awake.


The End



The Sands of Time Between My Toes

As a boy I walked the beach every day.
I stared at the horizon to find my way.
Visions of tomorrow filled my head;
days without fear and a true love to wed.
Ripples between obscured the view.
Sink or swim’s all I could do.
Years thrashing to stay afloat,
my life preserver’s gone and I no boat.
From the storm a distant shore arose.
Memories conjured with sand between her toes.
With a youthful splash and mind in the skies,
yesterday’s future floated before my eyes.
Was a summer returned, the same and new.
That time’s now gone but dreams came true.
The boy now grown, ending his wait.
If a past meant to be it wouldn’t be late.




Stairs climbed to a heavenly lair

Each step reluctant of the riser’s dare

The falls grow closer the higher I go

The ground grows distant with hell below


This tug-of-war is fought within

Pushing and pulling each a twin

When a journey’s long, all’s to win

With stich and glue all can grin


Time’s not direction with a start or end

There’s no give or take, none’s to defend

To counter clock’s never wise

It’s works concealed by the faces disguise


Incased to shield and hands that wind

Hands to watch to lose one’s mind

Minds lost seldom found

Seconds ticking to find sacred ground


With no end in sight, sight has no end

Starts at viewer, depths depend

Colors attract and shades divert

See the light or life’s inert


The stairs again beckon, to darkness they rise

Yet tread must I to rest sleepy eyes.