Inspiration

Startin’

Oh, what to do, oh what to do?
My day is free, and the sky is blue.
There’s chores to do, my list is long.
My old guitar needs a new song.
~
I’ve coffee for sippin’, a chair for sittin’,
and that morning sun’s warmin’ my heart.
The birds are singin’ and peace it’s bringin’,
so far, a mesmerizin’ start.

~*~
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UP

A change of season and of time,
peaks are near yet more to climb.
Years can pass with little to show.
Seconds can linger if not to grow.

Minds may dwell in the past.
Yesterday’s gone the changes last.
These changes happen every day.
Forward moving is the way.

Hearts oft bare a heavy load.
Sorrows deep, life slowed.
Feet dragged run in reverse.
Hands that push are the curse.

Tomorrow’s here when we wake.
Light or dark’s a choice we make.
See the beauty that slept within.
Feel the love, let the future begin.

~*~
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Out of the Fog

light house

~~~

I woke today before the dawn,
jumped out of bed with a stretch and a yawn.
A dense fog filled sleepy eyes.
There’s a chill in the air, no surprise.
.
Sweater on and coffee made,
dreams of night soon to fade.
Dreams of love soon to flow,
I’ll send my poem to let you know.
.
Our time together now is near.
Eyes wide open all is clear.
I’ll think of my day shared with you.
And the great times we have whatever we do.

~*~
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Seeing the Light

Shades of perfection –
a pause for reflection.
Softness felt on shapely curves,
a goddess of light, calming nerves.
~
Time stands still shaped in stone.
A memory forged, never alone.
Shadows illuminate visions anew.
Shades of perfection – as are you!

~*~
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Special thanks to the unknown photographer and inspirational model 🙂

Picture’s Read

~
Life creates the lines we wear.
They’re traced upon the face we share.
Smiles turned up spread everyday joy.
Pouty faces think hearts a toy.
~
Lips arced down build no bridges.
Crinkled brows scaled ridges.
Eyes bright glow through the night,
eyes down dwelt shade their light.
~
Enthusiasm shines with a spark.
Heartache shines in the dark.
Time wrinkles the more we press.
Smooth is felt, not a guess.
~
Directions clear when maps unfold.
Routes we’ve drawn, our story told.
Hellos leave more to see.
Loves image is good bye free.
~
I wish for the lines of long ago.
I wish to watch that of another grow.
A fateful glance we’re sure to know,
little things make the big picture show.

~*~
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Change

All are born with a pocketful of change.
Quantity’s irrelevant, it’ll all rearrange.
Heads or tails is all we’re to find.
We face our truths or lie behind.
~
Standing tall, shiny and bright,
how many tosses to land upright?
How many flips and wobbles and spins
or hands slapped and someone wins.
~
We can add and subtract, save or spend.
Though the odd’s even it just depends.
Change can jingle or bear the weight of earth.
What is shared counts our worth.

~*~
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Morning Triku #175 ~ Second Period

Choose Choice

Life’s multiple choice
Our answers lessen with time
Questions grow harder
~

Schooled

Fears prevail feared
Tomorrow’s today’s earned
All will rise, some learned

~
Chances Are

Life is bad when sad
Or grand when on clouds we stand
And glad for the hand

~*~
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Skipper’s Lane

Around the bend from the church on main,
lies a quaint little street, called Skipper’s Lane.
T’was on this path a young lad dwelled,
before the streets’ name or the lad propelled.
~
The tale goes: At the head of a cove the sandbar’s long.
The water’s choppy and the currents strong.
A young lad fished, he netted all day.
At sunset he rowed to the town up the bay.
~
He traded his catch for supplies and some cash.
He then rowed back home and buried his stash.
Years soon passed and the lad’s now a man.
The time was now to dig up an old can.
~
The cans held his savings, he’s more than a few.
The man, now called Netty, had something to do.
Netty rowed into town, to buy but not sell.
He bought a new boat with a bright shiny bell.
~
He towed the boat home not knowing how to sail.
A year’s practice behind then caught in a gale.
Netty stayed calm, his life, spent afloat.
Home was in sight when he saw a tossed boat.
~
The boat missed the inlet, now blowing out to sea.
Though Netty unsure, he could not leave them be.
Adjusting his sails Netty raced to give aid.
Soaked and battered he would not be afraid.
~
Lost memories filled young Netty’s head.
Recalling the night, he was almost dead.
The sky was black and the water cold.
The ship sat heavy, filled with gold.
~
Remembering screams and cracking wood,
the ship’s bell rang, gone childhood.
The boy hit the water and woke on the shore.
The life he once knew was no more.
~
A crashing wave broke Netty’s trance,
one second more he’d lose his chance.
He leaned on his tiller to bring his boat near.
The boats colliding mustered everyone’s fear.
~
Netty thought quickly and dropped his sheet,
then heaved his net around a cleat.
He pulled and pulled with all his might.
His biggest catch was that stormy night.
~
All returned safely before the sun rose.
Netty now a hero was gifted new clothes.
New friends were made, now one’s Netty’s wife.
Recounting his memories he bought a new life.
~
The gold recovered, Netty bought lots of land.
He built a grand home well away from the sand.
The harbor in view he watches over his fleet.
The town, now prosperous, gave Netty a street.

~*~
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Back and Forth

The pros and cons of death
are the ins and outs of breath.
The ups and downs of life
are the this and that’s of strife.

Forward or back, taut or slack,
fast or slow it’s the average we know
Top or bottom leaves in between.
Front and back the rest’s unseen.

Heads or tails the inner hides.
No coin has only just two sides.
Life is choices, more than two.
There’s more to it than me and you.

Books may contain all that’s known.
Everything else we’re on our own.
Soft or hard a landing’s assured.
Highs and lows are endured.

While ponderings spiral unabated,
decision’s made as we waited.
Time’s endless, though ours is not.
Hit or miss, it’s worth a shot.

~*~
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Up Down Forward

I received a letter on Tuesday, last week.
The handwriting familiar, deserving of a peek,
it was written by me when I am much older.
The language’s strong, I’m certainly much bolder.
~
Curiosity peaked and horror’s at bay.
I couldn’t believe what I had to say.
Mistakes I’ll be making are such a huge sum.
The time I’ll be wasting makes my brain numb.
~
A warning I thought but that didn’t compute.
If anything changed my letter is moot.
It got me so worried I lay awake all night.
Realizing later I did enough things right.

~*~
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Seasons

Spring

Life blossoms shedding care

Day’s grow longer, nights dear

Not too hot, not too cold

Perfect time, young or old

Summer

Always warm, always fun

Life outside in the sun

Day’s long, grass grows tall

Night’s breeze welcome by all

Autumn

Full of color, golden bed

On the ground, leaves shed

Getting shorter, day’s fair

Night’s crisp, chill in the air

Winter

World of white, weather bold

Day’s short, nights long and cold

Holidays, many friends

Bittersweet when it ends

Contrasts

I need a new color or maybe a sound.
I need something to get my head off the ground.
High in the clouds is where I should be.
Soaring with eagles; majestic and free.
~
Exploring a world where peace is the norm.
A place where everyone survives the storm.
A place where kids all laugh and parents sing.
Where old folks still giggle on the backyard swing.
~
We’ve no need for bombs, guns or war.
We’ll all have love, can’t hurt, can cure.
Oh, What a place this world could be.
If only that eagle, were you and me.

~*~
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Sublime

The burden of youth now lifted,
gears well lubed and automatically shifted.
We’ll coast up life’s many a peak.
And freely glide to wherever we seek.

Our time’s endless and just begun.
In a sea of many we’ll float as one.
Stars will dance in the brightest of skies.
And forever tomorrows await our eyes.

In the clouds we soar, ever nearing heaven’s door.
Our sunsets engulfed on an endless shore,
the sands of time unturned and pure.
And all is perfect with one to adore.

~*~
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Musical Airs

Melodies meld, moments mellowed.
Minnie lulls with many an ode.
Chaka puts me in a loving mode.
Many a sun’s risen on Abbey Road.

Zeppelin gets me high.
Hendrix makes me sigh.
Often pondered is The Great Gig in the Sky.
And for Adele I sometime cry.

Infinite sounds fill our head.
Let’s not forget The Grateful Dead.
Life’s music with or without words said.
Yet none more harmonious than whispers in bed.

~*~
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