When time and luck do collide,
our good fortunes cannot hide.
Eyes will open for a special day.
Doors will open and we’re on our way
We never know what lies ahead,
footsteps lead to where we’re led.
Eyes will open to a special sense.
The past is now our best defense.
Prepared are we to stand alone,
arms outreached, our distance flown.
Eyes open for a special one.
Hearts open and the future begun.
Bound as one we’ll double our best,
joy and bliss will know no rest.
Eyes will open to our special place.
Wound are we with a special face.
Hands of time will gently sweep.
Ups and downs we’ll deftly leap.
Eyes open for another special day.
Doors locked and in love we’ll stay.
I’ve got nine lives or just wasn’t ready.
I was closing a window, the rain was steady.
Then a big boom and a flash of white light,
I was struck by lightning last Friday night.
My lights went out but my heart didn’t quit.
The tree nearby suffered the hit.
I owe my life to my old friend.
I survived but it may be their end.
It’s bark blew off in a long straight line.
My hand was tingling but I won’t whine.
I turned ghostly white, let out a scream.
My life now charged and I’m living a dream.
Joy surges when thinking of you.
This bond shared I can’t believe true.
Yet I wake each morning and there you are.
Your loving embrace never ever far.
If luck there be, I have the most.
Our morning coffee’s deserving of a toast.
Days filled with laughter and peace,
every second I wish to never cease.
The future’s now, tomorrow’s unknown.
The time’s to prosper from pasts we’ve sown.
Our paths merged and the journey’s begun.
Hand in hand, we two are now one.
There once was a man from Rhode Island.
Who liked wiggling his toes in the sand.
Though it just a few times a year,
cos he held his toes quite dear.
And freezing them off he couldn’t stand.
With miles of beach,
they’re only seasonally in reach.
But walks when not freezing,
they’re still always pleasing.
And you don’t burn the peach.
Genes you see have crossed the sea,
his mom as Irish as she can be.
They being that pale as well.
Their summers a living hell.
I guess even good luck’s not free.
Happy St. Patrick’s Month!
Happiness is felt when I see you.
A kiss returned lets me know love’s true.
Fortunate am I to be granted this wish,
time together with my lovely Trish.
You make me smile when I need it most.
I’m grateful we met, you deserve a toast.
The future awaits your love song,
so I’ll keep writing, it won’t be long.
It’ll be the story of a lucky guy.
He looked to the heavens and given the sky.
His clouds paint murals of contemplation.
The wind whispers melodic inspiration.
In the dark of night visions now clear and bright.
The day’s sunlight consumed by your sight.
Sunrise’s more vibrant as each new day begins.
Sunsets shared and this lucky guy wins.
She’s spring green eyes and azalea lips,
rosy cheeks and fertile hips.
Her beauty’s beheld, never to pluck;
this clover found is my good luck.