fun

A Holiday’s Warmth

In the land of the dragon when nights get long.
The air is cold and the wind is strong.
In caves they’ll gather all cozy and warm.
But first, they’ll prepare before the big storm.
~
The holiday’s near and another year’s treat.
Moms and dads busy to make all things neat.
The children make dangles to dress up their tree.
Then off to slumber for a week, two or three.
~
Their parents when done with winter chores,
warm their homes and open their doors.
The children then wake to a new winter’s white.
And gaze at trinkets secretly left in the night.
~
There are mittens and hats for the littlest of tikes.
There are goodies galore that everyone likes.
The grown-ups all share a warm hearted kiss.
Then hugs all around that’s never to miss.
~
The teens await the greatest gift of all.
They’ll soon learn to fly or tumble and fall.
But the new snow’s now deep and oh so soft.
It’s perfect for landing when not high aloft.
~
When the sun gets low and the chill sets in.
Homeward they head for the feast begin.
They’ll all sing and dance and sip warm sno-nog.
The night then ends with the last burning log.
~
Eyelids grow heavy, eyes soon to close.
Socks pulled snugly over big chilly toes.
Hibernation then starts and dreams it’ll bring,
where thoughts are warm awaiting the spring.

~*~
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Cookies

Cookies, cookies the perfect treat.
Eat them in shoes, socks or bare feet.
I’ve eaten them in my underwear.
You can eat them nude, if you dare.

Sometime just one, sometimes more,
Fresh from the oven or the store.
I prefer fresh, chocolate goo.
But from a box or bag will do.

There’s no time of the day or night,
When eating cookies isn’t right.
When times are good a cookie’s great.
When times are bad I might need eight.

In the kitchen with mom to bake,
The perfect gift cookies will make.
Cookies soon done and into the car,
Then to grandma’s house, it isn’t far.

That smell of cookies is taunting me,
Under the foil where I can’t see.
But I must wait, we’re almost there.
With bunches of cookies for us to share.

We pull in the drive, rush to the bell.
Running so fast I almost fell.
But I held tight to that plate in hand.
I don’t like my cookies mixed with sand.

My big pile of goodness for us to eat,
Stacked high on a plate, nice and neat.
Mom opens the door, I run right in.
Hugs for all, let the party begin!

The girls dance about in pretty new dresses.
The boys run and shout and make big messes.
When we’re done yelling, screaming and raving,
It’s time to quench our cookie craving.

Then back to the car and homeward bound.
Soon dozing off to a breezy sound.
While thinking of cookies I start to dream,
About a world of cookies and cream.

Cookies, cookies the anytime treat.
Eat them at home or the backseat.
You can eat them everywhere,
On the ground or high in the air.

Cookie rockets go to the stars.
Cookies for wheels on our cars.
I dream of a world of cookie dough.
Freshly baked and ready to go.

Cookies for beds for us to sleep,
We’ll count cookies instead of sheep.
Cookies we’ll roll all over town.
We’ll get some milk to wash them down.

A non-round cookie won’t be right.
Remember the poor gingerbread’s plight.
Cookies not round we’ll call them fakes.
They can all be just biscuits or cakes.

If all cookies where round by law.
We wouldn’t have circles or arcs to draw.
The sun would be a cookie shape.
And big cookie craters on a cookiescape.

A bump in the road made my dream roll away.
I’ll dream another, another day.
Where almost home and I’m glad.
A quiet snack is never bad.

It’s getting late, my day’s almost done,
But one last thing that’s always fun.
In-between the wash, rub and scrub.
I nibble a cookie in my tub.

But I never ever eat cookies in my bed.
You’ll sleep real crumby or so it’s said.
And now it’s time to turn off the light.
Sweet dreams to all and have a goodnight.

The End

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Birthday Triku

Birthday Cake-

Candles blaze, wax pools.

Sugar glazed time on a dish.

Slices of life shared.

 

Familiar Paths-

Life’s familiar path:

Birth, growth, love, toil and refresh,

relax and recall.

 

Birthday Wish-

They said “Make a wish”

I wish it not my birthday.

WAIT! – Nope! – didn’t work.

 

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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.

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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.

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My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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Orange balloons float above ground.

Pumpkin pies shared all around.

Our beans are red and peas are green.

The tastiest rainbows ever seen.

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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

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Hot and Cold Memories

We all walked to school without a care.
We stopped at the store with pennies to share.
Cats and dogs always ran free.
Trees were claimed by them and me.
~
We rode our bikes like we were all nuts.
Our hands and knees came home with cuts.
Bikes had brakes most of the time,
or slowed by sneakers covered in grime.
~
Any spot with grass was called a yard.
We swam in places with no lifeguard.
Snowballs were made no matter the cost.
We wore socks on our hands when gloves were lost.
~
We all had to fight every once in a while.
Our moms would yell but dads would smile.
Rooms were shared and sometimes beds,
smelly feet tickling their brother’s heads.
~
Then junior high came and we had to change.
Our hair grew long and our clothes got strange.
Many smoked cigarettes and other stuff.
There were lots of choices but enough was enough.
~
Childhood then ended and the troubles began.
When the problems started most of us ran.
Some now have passed; some did well,
but all fondly remembered though it was hell.

~*~
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Sandbox

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Shades of blue peeking through gray

Spring is here and outside we’ll play

First thing I’ll do is hug my tree

It’s waited alone all winter for me

~

In my backyard under that tree

Is my most favorite place to be

Swing’s on one side, sandbox the other

And a house above for my big brother

~

I’ll fly for a while on my swing

And listen to the birdies sing

Then to the place I love the best

Where I can build castles or take a rest

~

My sandbox is this magic place

A shipwreck beach or planet in space

It’s a summer toy box in my backyard

And cleaning up is never hard

~

Though last summer we made a big mess

I played in the mud in my best dress

We found a small puddle, my friend and I

The last thing needed for our mud pie

~

First scooped with shovels, most was spilled

Thought of a bucket, then soon filled

A couple of pails and puddle’s dry

But the sand’s to soupy for our mud pie

~

So we dug in the yard to get more sand

The sand was brown, squishy in hand

But it was fun, mushy and wet

A sandbox time we’ll never forget

~

Then my brother jumped in with a splash

Mud flew high, our clothes where trash

Then mom came out, we thought she’s mad

Till she hosed us down, now we’re all glad

~*~

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Morning Triku #169 ~ Haiku Theoreticallish

haiku theoreticallish

~*~
Our Wrinkle in Time

Work is what we do,
when not doing what we want.
Like death but with pay.

~
Constant Ripples

Time is space between.
Between matters and doesn’t.
Distance less with light.

~
Perpetual Emotion

Love is energy.
Hearts, minds and bodies unite.
Time accelerates.

~*~
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Buttons

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Buttons, buttons everywhere,
they’re on this and over there.
They’re on clothes and touch-screens.
They’re on phones and flying machines

They can be found in boxes or jars,
or in neat rows on boats and cars.
Being on the button is good,
pushing people’s, you never should.

Some buttons are big, some are small.
Some buttons do nothing at all,
some are outies others innies,
silly buttons on our bellies.

You may have a cute button nose,
to enjoy the smell of sweet rose.
While buttoned up or buttoned down,
in the rain or strolling in town.

Buttons in all shapes, any size,
having a spare is always wise.
Buttons for eyes on our stuffed friends.
Uses for buttons never ends.

We glue them on paper plates,
making gifts for special dates.
Add string then sprinkle glitter on,
next curly yarn, name in crayon.

Some are toggles, some are switches.
Some like snaps to hold up breeches.
No zippers for me, I prefer,
buttons to hold all together.

Glad to share my buttons with you,
we’re all buttoned up, story through.
Rhyme’s done, time to button my lip,
I’ll say goodbye, have a safe trip.

The End                        sck081414

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/467759

Write On

~

Just an observation

Neither here nor there

Just a little thought

That I’d like to share

~

Having writ now a bit

Logging ups and downs

There seems to be a pattern

That’s shared all around

~

Sometimes juices flow

Pumped with inspiration

Sometime the well is dry

Full of emptiness and frustration

~

Yet on we tread for nothing more

Then another chance to explore

Following our pens, hearts and minds

Where always a tomorrow we will find

~*~

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Twas the Ale

Twas a fable yet scribed I chanced on a trail

Whilst adjusting lapels on my shiny chain-mail

Running behind by fast falling hail

When caught by surprise by a soon too late snail

Rushing past for the tour of a mighty blue whale

A little boy followed, arms all a flail

Yelling and screaming and waving a pail

Fearing for life, I ratted out the snail

Thus rightly rewarded a tasty round quail

I plucked a plume, it barked a wail

I flew to the pub and grabbed me an ale

I asked of bread, it answered stale

I ordered steak and was given kale

Complained to a waiter who proceeded to rail

Then I was bounced out, back onto the trail

Went in head first and came out on my tail

Now bumps and bruises read like braille

Poking and prodding will always fail

The highs and lows of a musical scale

Whilst the notes remaining  …  twas this tale

~*~

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Snow

Soon it’s fall, but first back to school,

days getting shorter, nights get cool.

Then the winter and with it snow,

wrapping the world in its glow.

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We’ll build forts, make balls to throw.

So many things to do in the snow,

sledding and skiing, rolling in white.

Hoping for more snow every night.

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Morning’s good news, stay home from class.

Fun things to do with time to pass,

make a snowman with rocks for eyes,

that see’s all in cold winter skies.

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We’ll stay in and play or just talk.

Then shovel a long path to walk,

to the street though nowhere to go.

Everything’s closed because of the snow.

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Crusty piles; high, dirty and gray,

wetter and smaller each new day.

Snowman’s withered, springs on the way,

time to make up for our snow day.

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (5)

Waking one morning, snow’s no more,

instead there’s flowers by my door.

Springs arrived and welcome by all,

summers next and followed by fall

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (6)

Like the seasons our life goes round.

Searching for answers already found.

Around and around we all go,

waiting for summer then for snow.

*

The End

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Morning Triku #67 – Non-Optimal Optimism

Headlights –

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Optimism is:

Writing an end to darkness

When there’s no bright side

*

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Un-Free Times –

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When do poets sell?

When all my time’s spent writing

Or thinking I can’t

*

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Scientific Optimism –

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Nature’s law shared in

Physics and psychology

Is that all things bounce

~*~

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Morning Triku XXXIII

Tomorrow:

Reluctant slumber

Half-a-wake dreams, awaiting

Fantasies of day

~

 Boom:

Mornings Burst – Coffee

Pencils Sharp – Ready – Waiting

Haiku Explosion

~

Rhyme Time:

Constant mind of rhymes

Can be annoying, sometimes

But better than chimes

~*~

Done-kuing:

 One hundred haiku

As of today, thirty three

Tri’s and this single

***

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She’s too Nice to Play

~

I’ve waited for this moment

My whole short life long

I think about her everyday

And now to write her song

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Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

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She’s a curly long neck blonde

And her moans so ever sweet

When I hold her in my arms

She knocks me off my feet

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Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

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I saved up all my money

I ain’t been eatin’ right

But when I cash this paycheck

I’ll be takin her home tonight

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Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

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I’ve been eye’n her now for years

And she’s waited just for me

Soon we’ll slip up the backstairs

So nobody else will see

.

Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

.

I unwrapped her very slowly

My heart picked up a beat

Now with her curves in my hands

My life now feels complete

.

Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

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I wrap my arms around her

I hold her real tight

When I feel her around my neck

It makes me feel just right

.

Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

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She tempts me oh so very much

While she sits close and still

To have her rest upon my knee

She gives me the biggest thrill

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Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

 .

Though rarely is she picked-up

She never lets me down

She always leaves me breathless

I think I’m gonna drown

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Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

.

Now swaddled in golden satin

She does forever lay

Her beauty I’m unworthy

Cos she’s just too nice to play

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Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I want her any way

 .

Oh she’s my pretty baby

But she’s too nice to play

I know she’ll never love me

But I love her any way

~*~

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Bursting with Joy

~

Bubbles can be big

Bubbles can be small

Bubbles mostly clear

But not always a ball

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From the wands of wizards

Bubbles bring much joy

From toddlers to centurions

They’re everyone’s favorite toy.

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In tubs, ponds and pools

Bubbles can be had

Sure to bring a giggle

To the naughty and the sad

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But when a bubble’s external

And we’re trapped within

Remember that fun is free

When it’s made with a grin

~*~

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Swing Band

While riding today on my swing,
I heard a song and started to sing.
It’s an outside song, inside not heard,
beetles clicking with a chirping bird.
*
In the wood wind blows through the trees.
Back-up came from the buzzing bees.
Keeping the beat atop a log,
bass was played by a croaking frog.
*
My little dog barked but not too loud.
My kitty cat danced and meowed.
It’s nature’s band and I will sing,
soaring high on my backyard swing.


~*~
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The Constant Factor

A formula for life, not yet conceived

Or perhaps it has and I’ve been deceived

Some might see a problem, puzzle or game

To integrate all sides to equal the same

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An equation’s unsolvable when incomplete

Or the solutions wrong and we have to repeat

Though an unknown constant can be hard to tell

This constant unknown, we’ll just call “L”

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Thus L is the constant that can’t be defined

It can’t be measured or graphed on a line

It’s totally irrational, follows no rules

It can’t be made or dissected with tools

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It’s unquantifiable, but rarely there’s none

When completely subtracted the answer’s just one

It must be shared but not borrowed, no debtor

May not be infinite but more is better

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When factored with care the solution’s made clear

That a theory this simple we all must share

That joy is derived when summed with above

And this constant “L” I speak, is the factor of Love

 ~

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