~
Be wary what the mind bender’s say.
They’ll change a heart along the way.
Though if to hear it’s already too late,
you then wake to find no second date.
~*~
sck072117
~
Be wary what the mind bender’s say.
They’ll change a heart along the way.
Though if to hear it’s already too late,
you then wake to find no second date.
~*~
sck072117
Cometh hither
Do not dither
Time to writher
Less we whither
Then to slither
Back to zither
We there yet?
.
sck070817
Going, Going, Gone
~
Poetic Visions
A poet can see
the past, present and future.
Then write all the wrongs.
~
Forever Green
In time we all green,
some blossom, others jaded.
Most just get moldy.
~
Pocket Full of Poesy
We’re going to hell
in a hand-basket held by
a deplorable!
~*~
sck070617
~
Our seven senses,
nonsense is not one of them,
either is common.
~*~
sck060117
Chapter 1 ~ the Beginning
.
All’s quiet this early winter’s night.
Embers fade in the candles dancing light.
I was thinking of Christmas, many years past.
Those fond old memories, now fading fast.
.
I recalled when our home came alive.
I was just a small girl of about five.
It was a grand old house for mom, dad and me.
Sat perched on a hill overlooking the sea.
.
It’s still a museum in our little town.
It was built by a General of historic renown.
Shared with his bride Martha, she had a sad life.
The General’s a hero, she a young widowed wife.
.
We cared for the house and gave the tours.
All year-long we opened our doors.
We welcomed the guest to step back in time.
So come on in and share our rhyme.
.
I lay awake and tossed and turned.
Thinking of school and all I learned.
Letters and numbers and new friends,
I hope kindergarten never ends.
.
My thought disturbed by shapes on the wall,
a moonlit dance, shadows big and small.
It pranced to my table that’s set for tea.
There’s a seat for Teddy and Dolly plus one for me.
.
It climbed the chair with a dancer’s grace.
She must be a girl with a whiskered face.
Dolly left some crumbs on her plate.
When I remembered it was too late.
.
I Left a treat each night for a week.
I tried staying awake to catch a peek.
I’ll call her Martha, like our homes bride
But when I giggled she ran to hide.
.
Chapter 2 ~ New Friends
.
The days passed, she’d visit most nights.
She kept unseen until I turn out the lights.
She knows I’m cozy in my warm bed.
She smiles and winks, thankful she’s fed.
.
One night I waited, still in my chair.
Starlight warmed the chilly night air.
Eyelids dropped like the falling moon.
I hope my visitor gets here soon.
.
Night turned to-day, feet cold on the floor.
I missed my friend but goodies no more.
The next night I brought a cookie to bed.
I woke with my new friend by my head.
.
Days got colder, Christmas was near.
I looked forward to the snacks we share.
Each passing night our friendship grows.
We chat and laugh, I scratch her nose.
.
Thanksgiving’s past, Santa’s on his way.
The tree goes up, brighter each day.
We’re happy to welcome all our new guests,
while I wore my new colonial dress.
.
I tell them of the homes long past,
Of all that’s lived here, my family last.
I tell them of their history.
But never a word of Martha and me.
.
On the last day of school before the break,
we celebrated with carols and cake.
We shared cards and hugs then on our way.
We’re off to the bus and our long holiday.
.
Glad to be home, much to be done.
Baking and wrapping with mom will be fun.
I think Christmas is the best time of year.
There’s lots of visits from friends far and near.
.
Chapter 3 ~ Good and Bad
.
It’s not just gifts that makes Christmas best.
It’s all the excitement, no time for rest.
One snowy day mom and I went to town.
Main Street’s so merry, never a frown.
.
When we returned from our last-minute shop,
we saw a truck with a light on top.
A man in a hard-hat talked with my dad.
They both spoke quietly and looked very sad.
.
My parents whispered, thought I didn’t hear.
Something’s was broken too much to repair.
Said we’re leaving, where they don’t know.
I loved our home and didn’t want to go.
.
I gave the last tour on that very sad day.
We finished our cocoa with little to say.
Mom read aloud then kissed me goodnight.
Dad tucked me in, turned out the light.
.
I lay sobbing at the loss of our house.
No new friends, no Martha the mouse.
I then had a plan and ran for my bank.
Shook out the coins and my little heart sank.
.
Martha came close, she knew I was sad.
I forgot the snacks but she wasn’t mad.
We counted my pennies in moonlight,
then crept downstairs later that night.
.
We tucked my bank under the tree.
It’s for our old house from Martha and me.
But one last thing and then back to bed.
A snack for Martha and a pat on her head.
.
My dad woke me early that Christmas day.
I knew he was sad, he smiled anyway.
We met mom in the hall, headed downstairs.
We all acted happy while holding back tears.
.
Chapter 4 ~ New Beginnings
.
The cookies were gone, Santa was here.
Beneath the tree, present are there.
But shocked to see something I’d never seen.
There are stacks of coins, sleeping mice in between.
.
They ate Santa’s cookies then took a nap.
All snuggled together in the Christmas wrap.
Sleeping soundly until mom screams.
Then all were awakened from their dreams.
.
Martha stood out front and winked at me.
She waved me over to come and see.
The piles of treasure they found last night.
That was lost under the floorboards out of sight.
.
The Generals treasure, his coins of gold.
There’s enough to fix our homes splendor of old.
Martha saved our house and Christmas too.
She helped write this rhyme to share with you.
*
We wish you the best this holiday.
May all your days be just your way.
We’re glad to have shared our time as one.
From all of us here at our house of fun.
.
The End
sck112914
~*~
We all pass one day.
So there’s a fifty fifty
chance we’ll meet again.
*
sck101516
*
I think calling Trump
an asshole is degrading.
Assholes are needed.
*
sck100916
~
That Stinks
If the world were my
oyster, I’d be shucked, since I
don’t enjoy seafood.
~
Shaping Reality
Pearls true round seldom found,
they are but nature’s waste.
More are found truer round,
when man made of cheaper paste.
~
Appraising Tomorrow
Diamond’s when new sell quite a few.
Yet these gems of old are barely sold.
~*~
sck092216
~
People who live in
glass towers shouldn’t throw stones
or be president.
~*~
sck081816
~
See-saws with one seat
Never get off the ground or
Give any pleasure
~*~
sck071016
~
Either or neither
nor, boxer briefs I’m unsure.
Maybe none’s the cure.
~*~
sck070916
~
Near two centuries standing tall
Perched upon its foundation wall
Stone and rock stacked one at a time
Cracks are filled with mortar and lime
.
Plantings and pruning’s since time’s begun
Nature’s matured, the house and it one
Repairs are always but never to date
A new one’s found just of late
.
It seems there’s a door that escaped my gaze
It’s probably been there for days and days
It welcomed a visitor though I not aware
There’s plenty of room but I’d rather not share
.
A bed was found of rags and fleece
A trap was set for catch and release
The morning came and the trap’s shut tight
Catching the culprit that roams in the night
.
The walk was had on path well worn
Evicting another, my heart is torn
Bound in plastic to hide from the eye
Soon they’ll welcome the bright blue sky
.
With a careful flick and gentle tap
Out popped an alien from its trap
Oh what to do, Oh what to do
The mouse I caught is a shrew
.
Research was done, panic’s at rest
Contemplations had of what will be best
Plans conceived to search for the door
Or wait for winter when the problem’s no more
~*~
Sck070616
~
First Finish
.
Glitter and Sparkle
need the light. The clear see through.
The dull never shine.
.
*
All Right
.
Even the Cubic
Zirconia is a clear
gem in its own right
.
*
Learning Needs
.
The last King perished
while summoning sustenance
from subjects unread
.
~*~
sck062916
~
Stars blinking sky high
Constellations dancing by
Airport views of I
~*~
sck062016
~
In reverse forward is time.
Today’s feelings, tomorrows rhyme.
Yesterday’s drive neutralized.
Days hide in nights disguised.
To see at last a final verse.
When parked forever in rolling hearse.
~*~
sck060516
~
A mean and petty old boss I once had,
made threats to all when he was mad.
“My pen’s mightier than the sword!” he’d say
“Bad recommendations will affect your pay.”
He was always looking to pick a fight.
So with my pen I poked him – to find he’s right.
~*~
sck053116
~
Steven rhymes with Heaven and Kittell rhymes with hell.
Now as a poet who likes to rhyme I know not where I’ll go in time.
But if a choice there is to be – I’ll surely go where the quill floats free.
~*~
sck052916
~
My writing’s waning
Want’s waxing, this writer’s block
I’m finding taxing
~*~
Sck052016
~
If Jesus went to
a gun show would he be in
a heavenly state?
~*~
sck051816
~
Stories are written every day.
Lips move, people say.
Eyes still seen when shut tight.
Ears and nose always alight.
.
The mind knows how to think.
Hands made to push the ink.
Yet words of late are not my friend.
Perhaps today this to will end.
~*~
sck051516
~
More’s not always best
Less leaves longings lingering
Enough is enough
~*~
sck050616