Taps and Dies Before Our Eyes

~*~
Beneath the surface the hidden lies.
Lifetimes dug with nightly spies.
They’re timely spirits never seen.
Betwixt the shadows they have been.

They step in time to others cries.
Unheard are they, ahead they rise.
Parallel the paths diverged.
Wrongly spiked the forces surged.

Time is distance in disguise.
Depth perceived in mind’s wise.
Forever’s there can never be.
The past is all we get to see.

Tomorrow’s come and that’s the prize.
The present meant to capitalize.
Waves of emotion ebb and swell.
Tides of change rose and fell.

Plans charted as the crow flies.
Destinations await all surprise.
Second chances always free.
And visitors all are we.

Then there’s those which defies,
“to each their own” we’ll rationalize.
Can halves again make a whole?
The ups and downs take a toll.

With twists and turns we realize.
Life unlived without goodbyes.

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Erasing Racings

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We seek to seek a clue
for paths straight and true
where the angle we pursue
is our own point of view.

Degrees unchanged are unseen.
Answers lurk in space between.
All turns return to the mean.
Golden suns and blue sky green.

But the wind never bends.
A loner never lends.
Always best is time with friends.
And the unsummed heart someday mends.

~
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Backasswords

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Rejection’s heard and intention reversed,
when words said are “let’s be friends first”.
Regarding romance this theory’s wrong,
friendship follows and it won’t take long.

First there’s attraction with a little spark.
Nervous words follow, seemingly a lark.
Calmness soon settles then desires grow.
You talk for hours with so much more to know.

Feelings grow deeper and emotions run high,
Trust is unquestioned and your head’s in the sky.
Times had together much the same as friends,
until a kiss goodnight when your blissful day ends.

Does anyone ask for less and then expect more?
Why should romance be any less sure?
Isn’t an honest start more likely to last long?
Or start at the end, what could go wrong?

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Real Imagined

~*~

Ships a pair moors by night.
Each’s a vision of the others light.
Tides are changing for me and you.
To time’s beyond when waves are few.

We each of passion, both pursuing free.
Findings shared, shared passionately.
An end to this poem, I have none or care.
For a future imagined is not really there.

~

sck062917

Shooting Blinks

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Suns fade quicker when back’s turned.
Dawns risen tastier yearned.
The shade’s darker beneath the tree.
Yet it is we who choose to be, there and then.
Forever then never ends, only now, not if or when.
Blinks miss winks, parch quenched, only now to see.
Suns fade brighter when dawn’s earned, risen and turned.

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Feathers of Time

*
With a bow to fateful inspiration, I shall cast skyward, beyond the heavens and to the heart of a most divine princess. Though this arrow will not pierce nor blemish all that is pure. For it will levitate before her command, awaiting thoughtful reply. It is then thy arrow shall propel and traverse, returning to my waiting, wanting and out stretched hand. And with this most sacred and singular of tools I trust and follow; deserts and plains, rivers, forests, seas and frozen peaks where only the arrow dare soar, I do confidently tread. Upon the highest pinnacle I will see the light and be guided. Drawn by the heat of shared passions, we attract and we shall meld and mold, we will unite as one and become the bow, two parts equal. Tied with care and precision we are flexible and strong. The arrow does no wrong.

~*~

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A Christmas Tail

Chapter 1 ~ the Beginning

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Chapter 2 ~ New Friends

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Chapter 3 ~ Good and Bad

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Chapter 4 ~ New Beginnings

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The End    

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