Changes

Tis

Loving’s easy to fall’s hard.
“Tis the life of this old bard”
Futures await a new sunrise.
Honesty’s seen feeling lies.
~
Eyes gaze upon another’s soul.
Walls unscaled take a toll.
When “I love you” whispered,
volume’s to oft heard.
~
The vision’s carried in the heart.
We’re to shed with care, as an art.
A curse, demon, gift or friend,
a love of love can never end.
~
Wheels turn, neutrals unknown.
Reverse a journey and forward’s grown.
Loving’s easy, to find’s hard.
“Tis the life of this old bard”

~*~
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Underway

Ships set sail on an endless sea.
It may be the first or last to be.
Success or failure’s just a chance.
Sink or swim, much like romance.
~
Yet it is the sea that transports life.
Swells and ebbs or filled with strife.
Horizons change up the mast, hearty souls say.
Harbors calm guide this soulful hearts way.

~*~
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Pro Epilogue

Here I sit with a heavy heart,
writing the end before the start.
A future seen and all was bright.
Yet alone we lay in the dark of night.
~
Now the unknown we’re again to face,
our yesterdays vanished without a trace.
Tomorrows will come, some will cry.
Death can consume before we die.
~
Spirits awaken if chosen to see.
Luck’s a gift, happiness free,
time is chance and life’s a friend.
Love’s a gamble, I bet to the end.

~*~
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Friggadoon

Century’s lost beneath a frigid sea.
A mystery shrouded from you and me.
One hundred years till the darkest of night.
A body shall be risen once gone from sight.
~
Subjects none, she’s a queen alone.
An island rests till her desire’s grown.
She’ll rise from the mist in fur, feather and scale.
Cloaked of face, she’s lovely beyond the pale.
~
Her quest is simple; to attain her reflection,
caught from a soul’s image of loves perfection.
Her call is silent, her essence shines through.
Once chosen, there’s none you can do.
~
Her attraction’s permanent, like flies on sweets.
And entice she does with her anticipated treats.
From a dream plucked, it’s her prey of late.
In a line they’ll stand with surety of fate.
~
Then only she will choose.
Who’ll be the winner this time to lose.
The others left bereft of heart.
Free for now to long another start.
~
The queen now quenched returns to her bed.
Her emptiness filled, rube’s again shed.
And the rest of us wonder of the tales that be.
Or am I to flounder in a flash of the sea?

~*~
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*In Brigadoon all roads lead to the future.*

Passionate Passage

Just a little exercise to see what I do,
I’m going the bathroom to write about poo.
I’ve fluffy white paper that floats from the wall.
And a sink nearby, in case I fall.
*
In a window with shutters I control the scene.
But the stench still oozes in-between.
There’s a mirror that magically hangs above.
It’s never quite straight, much like love.
*
The image’s the same no matter the tilt.
It tells no lies or feels no guilt.
I’ll wipe the smudges, the exercise through.
I passed the test but slipped in do.

~*~
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Crossroads

Maybe a message will set things right.
Or should I wait another night.
Maybe’s she’s waiting for my call.
A show of friendship could say it all.
~
I’d like to know how she’s feeling.
Maybe like me with a heart reeling.
Will there be anger, will we cry?
Will we laugh, will we lie?
~
Or will she say “Oh I’m feeling fine”.
Then I’d know she’s never to be mine.
Should I except loss to relive the pain?
Or make the call to break my heart again?

~*~
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The Pits

Time ticks forward and pendulums swing.
Optimism’s great but doesn’t change a thing.
The future’s unknown, sleep’s for dreams.
Sometime clarity’s not what it seems.
*
Questions swirl in my tired head.
Respite unfound in my tousled bed.
Broken hearts we all have felt.
The gates of hell I have knelt.
*
My soul’s on fire, mind’s aflame.
Yet only I there is to blame.
Anger’s felt with nowhere to go.
My fists bleed my face does show.
*
Passion remains through good and bad.
Words arise, though sometime sad.

~*~
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Forecasting Dribble

I woke this morning to see a new way.
My eyes watched the sun rise, my soul saw gray.
Love again felt and again lost.
A heart once warm’s now plagued by frost.

Winter’s coming and with it cold.
Time rushing forward’s getting old.
Nine months high on a dreamy cloud.
Then emptiness found beneath a shroud.

A future seen, maybes had.
Baggage lugged a journey’s sad.
Weighty pasts multiply fast.
Feelings divided never last.

Mind’s write the whether of the day.
And life moves on, or so they say.

~*~
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