little things

Too Cold To Go Outside

I woke today – weatherman lied.

I rolled over and I sighed.

Couldn’t sleep, eyes open wide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

There’ll be no swing set or slide.

There’ll be no walk or bike ride.

There’ll be no kites to be flied.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Today we have to play inside.

We’ll think of things never tried.

Stocking feet on floors we’ll glide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

We’ll build a fort for us to hide.

We’ll play dress up – you be bride.

Explore jungles – I’ll be guide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Time to dig a path that’s wide.

Getting dressed, boot laces tied.

Wind so stingy I almost cried.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

All’s warm, coats hung to be dried.

Find crayons, colors I’ve eyed.

Draw pictures for the fridge with pride.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Icy world all is gray sky-ed.

Plants droopy, looks like they died.

Bay frozen we’ll see no tide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Now sleep, teddies at my side.

Cold nights end, take it in stride.

Spring soon then winter we’ll chide.

When not too cold to go outside.

~*~

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Uncommon Sense

Punch the clock, kiss time away

Let’s all have a common sensical day

We’ll strive to attain the white picket fence

From this thing called common sense

 ~

Though no more than society’s rigidity

Saying that everyone had better agree

And if you don’t than you must be lacking

But hey – screw them! You don’t need their backing

 ~

Give it your all, do your best then see who’s slacking

Now get off the fence it’s time to get cracking

And when someone says you lack common sense

Say thanks, I’d rather be uncommon than dense

 ~

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Morning Triku #69

Rings True

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Mutually daring

Quintessentially caring

Lovingly sharing

~

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Howling

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Up before sunrise

Down by noon, dreading blue skies

Awaiting the moon

~

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Dimensionally Stable

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Having thought outside

The box for so long, I’ve now

Become Tripolar

~*~

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Morning Triku #63

Too Little Rhyme ~

Life is Poetry

Some is good and some is bad

Most we’ll never see

*

Forever’s Never Last ~

Our writing is the

Exercise that forces us

To live fitfully

*

Con-Tent ~

Home’s where our stuff’s stored

A store is where our stuff’s bought

Bought’s where our heart’s sold

~*~

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Middling Thoughts

I’m too old to paint in tempera, takes too long to dry.

I’m too young to sculpt a headstone, since I won’t soon die.

I’m too old to swim the channel, don’t like being cold and wet.

I’m too young to drown in sorrow with so little to regret.

I’m too old to chase maidens through spring fields anew.

Though now the times just right to share all I have with you.

~

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Almost Optimism

Here’s just another long ass poem,
where pencils wander and minds roam
Wrongly writing a writers spoof,
pretending to act ambivalent and aloof.

Scribbles scribed with thoughts adrift,
begrudging the irony of a weighty gift
A gift when open can amaze and surprise,
when amiss all’s left to despise

Ego and insecurity blend on the page.
The shadows measure, shades gage.
Jumbled words of love, sorrow and joy,
of friendships made or to destroy

Dreams dreamt with eyes shut tight,
while dreams are had in the light.
Time in reflection thoughts bounce then fade.
Intensity’s the source of all that’s made.

Whether hobby, craft, art or obsession,
or a statistically nil reliable profession.
There’s no substitution as far as I can tell,
There’s no on or off switch, no warning bell.

With a drizzle of drudgery and a smatter of haste,
the ink dries anyway, useful or a waste.
When the wining, waling and whimpers wane,
recall and record so something’s to gain.

Just the right words are all that’s required.
Write day and night and be always tired.
And this; not a sonnet or magnificent tome,
but at least it’s another long ass poem.

~*~

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Snowflakes

 If no two snowflakes are the same,

When melted do they come back again?

How do all the storm clouds know,

What each other makes for snow?

 **

Though thought all different, ingredients same

Freely floating flakes, cousins of rain

Minuscule crystals suspended in lines

Destiny’s same – the kiss of sunshine

 *

Just another of natures’ follies, like we all

The higher the cloud, the faster the fall

The longer the blizzard, the deeper the strife

The hotter the day, the shorter the life

 .

Do we really care if snowflakes are the same?

Or are we just repeating an old silly game?

A game that can never ever be won –

When all the pieces melt in the sun

~*~

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Morning Triku II

My Love

A look, touch – A kiss

Hands, bodies – Tactile bliss

Love – Nothing’s amiss

 ~

My Friend

Heart strings stroked feel heat

Neck caressed long and sweet

Rhythm head to feet

 ~

Begin’d

How humans learned

They died for knowledge yearned

Trial and error’d

 

~*~

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Be the Wind

The will of the wind with the air that be,

summons the roar from a silent sea.

When this air too shall roar,

a mighty sea bombards a shore

~

When the wind and sea collude-

all’s consumed all the more.

Can a roaring wind be silenced-

 or will it roar for evermore?

~

A question answered best in rhyme;

The shores are life, the sea is time.

The air is those around us, crying to be free.

And the wind with its will – a roaring poet be.

*

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Unwritten Sonnet

Thoughts of love, humming notes to an unknown song,

I’ve tried to write it down but the words all came out wrong.

It seems when I think of you all other thoughts go astray.

Emotions and desires jumbled, I can find no words to say.

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I’ve tried a million times and I’ll try again today,

though time spent together always the better way.

Now pen’s in hand, mindful bliss my heart begins to race,

visions of my fantasy; beauty, elegance and grace.

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Reminiscent of cascading falls in the jungles of Belize,

the splash of your wavy hair flowing in a summer breeze.

Where rising suns cannot compare to the glow upon your face,

I’m warmed to my very core; the cold has left no trace.

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With eyes as deep and all-consuming as is the vast Pacific,

their depths so never-ending I can find no phrase specific.

Your subtle lips glistening, a silent language spoken,

still or parted, my semaphore, together I wish unbroken.

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A brilliance of mind and sharpened wit, a formula to confound

Whilst pure of heart with soulful passions amaze and astound

And when I rest my head to sleep and your image begins to blur,

I envision a ballerina floating through the moonlit air.

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Touching down on slippered feet, the foundation of my life,

where I’ll dream again of a poem unwritten – for a lovely wife.

~

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First Snow

The first snow of the year
fell while we all slept.
We woke to a world of white;
all’s eerily wind-swept.
~
The outside’s frigid cold,
no need to go out yet.
This storm will last all day,
there’s plenty of time to fret.
~
The sidewalk must be shoveled
and the driveway too.
The steps will need some salt
to track in on my shoe.
~
My cats will be upset;
they’re not going out today.
I’ll give them a little catnip;
I wish I too could play.
~
But soon this day will end
and a fire I’ll then light.
I’ll snuggle with my sweetheart,
cozy through the night.
~
The first snow’s always fun,
a feast for seasoned eyes.
But after that we wait for spring
and warm, clear blue skies.

~*~
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Java Java Java

My silent alarm, works every day.

Dreams of coffee wafting my way.

I get up quick to make water hot.

Then longingly watch the drips in the pot.

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When half way full the process proceeds.

The quest begins for the rest of my needs,

A big cup, of course, some sugar and cream.

And something to stir a new coffee dream.

 .

My brew perks away then perks me up.

There’s nothing better than a second cup.

To sip and to savor and share the sunrise.

The beauty’s doubled with wide open eyes.

 .

I think it’s the drink I drink the most,

Columbian, Sumatra or a dark French Roast.

Whole-bean or ground, instant or drip,

They all taste great from the very first sip.

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Winter hands on a hot mug are nice.

In the summer it’s refreshing with ice,

Or a flavorful syrup or tasty ice cream.

Chocolate covered beans, better than they’d seem.

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Coffee’s always dessert after desserts.

But it can stain teeth, pants and shirts.

A treat always perfect to end a long day,

A book, a snack and a decaf, my way.

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Huddled comfy in a favorite chair,

Sharing the quiet with a loved-one near.

Til pages blur and sleepy eyes meet,

Then goodnight kisses and a last sip that’s sweet.

…

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https://www.tumblr.com/teaberrybee/104066178111/a-collaboration-between-two-partners-in-rhyme

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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