little things

Plan B

I’m writing a poem with a camera obscurer

Alone in the dark with my pen and a mirror

I’ll copy all the words, line for line

Just shapes through a lens, better than mine

 ~

At the glass’s edge all becomes clear

Words arranged, scribed without fear

Reflections honest, colors vivid and true

Time imagined – visions of you

 ~

By hearth embraced for evermore

Framed with care, hung by the door

Shadows of day will come and go

Our depth’s captured, forever aglow

 ~*~

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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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Tis a Dali Recollection

Sitting quiet with an empty mug of Dali handled haste

Recollections of past mistakes, lessons not to waste

Bottoms dry, sticky drop sides, lip prints beckon more

Pouring fast without a rinse, that always forgotten chore

*

I pass the sink, I didn’t use, but visions tapped never forgotten

Fondly recalling a baby kitty, who with first glance I was smitten

She was a  tiny ball of ebony fluff that strayed from her mother

Found sickly and shy at a shelter, unwanted by all other

 *

Crusty with kitty litter and boogies I tried to give her a bath

And with a flash and a roar I released a pound of wrath

Water splashed and dishes flew as did my favorite mug

Later to be dissected from a wet and soapy rug

 *

Pieced back askew with frustration, dust, fur and fuzz

Now forever immortalized, better than it was

The glue eventually dried as did a smelly kitty snoozing on my lap

It would come to be her favorite place for a cozy nap

*

The mug still has some whiskers stuck in its bumpy glue

Though with each year passing it loses quite a few

Beloved kitty’s now passed after a long and happy stay

Leaving reminders of mistakes that came to be the better way

 *

Like the tasty sip’s that’s now savored from that Dali-handled mug

While quietly  savoring kitty’s memory with every wobbly chug

*

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Purgatory

~

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.

~*~

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Writewright Rite

Write by day if fear of night.

Write by night if fear of light.

Write of fear if there be a fright.

Write of joy if there be no plight.

Write with passion when love’s in sight.

Write with vision when all is bright.

Write when sad to feel all right.

Write when weak to feel the might.

Write to humor but never with spite.

Write to soothe and to excite.

Write for a voice but never a slight.

Write for yourself, don’t be uptight.

Now get your pens and write write write!!!

~*~

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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.

Snow_poem_SK052014 (1)

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.

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (2)

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.

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (4)

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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Must be Love

It must be love

When hearts ache

Yet we love all the more

 .

It must be love

When hearts beat faster

By footsteps at the door

 .

It must be love

When hearts shattered

Yet chests still hold treasure

 .

It must be love

When hearts ablaze

Mercury can’t measure

 .

It must be love

When only failure

Seems to reassure

.

It must be love

When feeling well

Love must be cure

 .

It must be love

When inspired

A heart feels pure

 .

It must be love

When hearts know

That it’s love for sure

~

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