A walk along the shore,
and a visit to the past.
Tides are changing quickly.
The future’s coming fast.
~
With every step a second,
the miles pass us by.
Hills climbed now distant,
racing toward the sky.
~
Blink and moments missed,
sit and feet skipped.
Always more is needed.
And yet we came equipped.
~
This quest, never ending,
measurements observed.
Time shared with others;
is the length deserved.
~*~
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While searching for time I lost my mind.
With days to pass I’ve seconds to find.
A second helping or a second chance,
my heart’s ticking my feet yell dance.
~
Nature’s music fills my ears.
A show of hands notes the years.
A watch found strikes back at me.
Its shattered face says nothing’s free.
~
Beneath this glass all is well.
Time moves on and yet still I dwell.
Alarm bells ringing, my hour’s been found.
Wind me up, I’m timely bound.
~*~
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Where is the forest that once gave shade?
Where is the light when all’s been grayed?
Where is the love of friends once made?
Where is the value for what’s been paid?
Where is the time when memories fade?
Where is the end, will I be afraid?
~*~
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Mowers, blowers and flame throwers, it’s time to clean my yard.
Spring is here, just once a year, so it’s really not that hard.
Leaves and weeds and other debris will all just disappear.
And it only takes an hour or so, but my neighbors all live in fear.
~
The police get called and a laugh we share, when the yelling’s done.
The officer gave the thrower a try and had never had such fun.
The smoke finally clears; my work is done; it’s time now to relax.
I think I’ll wear shorts today and take off these flame-proof slacks.
~*~
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~
The rain has fallen
A new day’s blossoms begun
Together as one
~*~
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Why can’t I be a bumble bee?
Bumbling about, nectar’s free
I could hover or dash in a flash
Come home to a queen with my golden stash
~
I’d love to be a robin on the first day of spring
I’d soar from my nest and into the sky I’d sing
Perhaps a baby bunny, nibbling on fresh greens
I’d hop from clump to clump napping in-between
~
Maybe a child on their first new bike
That new sense of freedom that’s what I’d like
Until, of course, the inevitable fall
Some try again, some not at all
~
I want to be a billionaire
Living life without a care
A mighty oak would be grand
Or Saguaro cacti, kings of the sand
~
But I’m not, I’m just me
Thankful for the nature that I see
Writing of things I can’t be
Content with the puzzle of poetry
~
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~
The colors of spring remind me or you.
Every blossom blooms a more beautiful hue.
Lives nurturing nature creates each day anew.
And their kaleidoscope of joy shared, as you do.
~*~
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I woke before the sun.
To have my morning fun.
But I couldn’t see my pad.
And my memory’s really bad.
~
I waited for the light.
To free me from the night.
But my pencil disappeared.
And my memory is as feared.
~
I found a piece of chalk.
But then I saw a hawk.
I forgot the task at hand.
I’m sure it would be grand.
~
I took a step outside.
The hawk flew off to hide.
A squirrel then ran past.
Man, are those guys fast!
~
The chalk now is dust.
My morning’s now a bust.
The sun’s now getting high.
And I now wonder why.
~*~
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Springtime beckons to one and all;
life’s beginning, unlike the fall.
Evening’s crisp and tomorrow shines,
blooms hide the naked lines.
~
The air is fresh with skies of blue;
warmth thaws the winters’ view.
Days growing longer on a smiling face,
sunset walks set the pace.
~
Summer’s next, its appeal clear,
but cool it’s only one fourth the year.
Spring is best I must confess,
a shared opinion’s my seasoned guess.
~*~
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Cool
A warm winter day,
snows melting, Spring’s on the way.
Good or bad, let’s play.
~
Lukish
Work’s a place to go;
when you can’t afford better,
or work is your life.
~
Heated
When left in the dark,
Most people will light matches.
Then it all burns down.
~*~
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.
Sea sounds when none to see
Densely fogged, distant bells attract
Creaky planks bow to me
Rising tides, spray exploiting cracks
~
Wave’s crash, limits defined
Soaking shell, soul’s to cleanse
The depth of eve haunts a mind
Yet this pier never ends
~*~
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Nearing the pit of the pendulums’ path
Forces of nature care not of their wrath
The weight of the world pivots within
Knows not when to stop or where to begin
~
The highs never reaching a stable peak
These highs too high to which I seek
Delves of darkness seem never to end
Rises resisted rapidly descend
~
Familiar patterns now drawn in time
Thus manifested in delusional rhyme
With feathered hand to soar and blind
To my ravenous return in stillness of mind
~*~
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~
A shadow we share,
people stand frozen to stare.
But groundhogs don’t care.
~*~
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Rings True
.
Mutually daring
Quintessentially caring
Lovingly sharing
~
.
Howling
.
Up before sunrise
Down by noon, dreading blue skies
Awaiting the moon
~
.
Dimensionally Stable
.
Having thought outside
The box for so long, I’ve now
Become Tripolar
~*~
.
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Tis the wind that taps my glass.
I close my eyes with hope to pass.
Tis the wind beats on my door.
I cower and cover till no more.
~
Tis the wind that haunts my home.
Forever it lurks where I roam.
Tis the wind that rattles my brain.
Run do I, none to gain.
~
Tis the wind wherever I go.
Till ash am I then it to follow.
Tis this wind shall set me free.
Scattered safely I shall be.
~*~
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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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Speaking Volume
.
Writing in peace is
When screams are muffled by the
Voices in your head
~
Cell-less Cell
.
Lonely is having
An imaginary friend
That won’t return calls
~
Chewed not Deterred
.
To write is using
Skeletons in your closet
To appease the wolves
~*~
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~~~
Ocean breezes howl, the seagulls soar.
Frigid waves crash on the rocky shore.
Yet the morning mist rises above it all.
And foggy eyes see everything’s small.
~*~
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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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There was once three men,
took a trip on a boat.
The little ship sank.
No one could float.
~
The greedy man drowned,
weighed down by his gold.
The vain man prayed,
for the soul he had sold.
~
The poet swam.
What else could he do.
‘Twas just another day,
awash in blue.
~*~
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No earth. No trees.
No trees. No pulp.
No pulp. No paper –
for poets to sculpt.
No earth. No home.
Nowhere to roam.
No time left to moan and groan.
No one wants to die alone.
No one wants this to be.
This to be the world’s last poem.
~*~
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There once was a once upon a time.
Actually there’s many and some do rhyme.
So here it goes another like the rest.
It might not be the worst but won’t be the best.
~
Once upon a time there was;
bees in a garden sharing a buzz.
They flutter high and they flutter low,
they flit where they need to go.
~
They all know each other, each by name.
But humans think they’re all the same.
Unwittingly perhaps, speciesists are we,
but they don’t need us as we need the bee.
~
They grow our food and sweeten our tea,
an absolute necessity, don’t you agree?
So next time you see one, share their buzz.
Cos without them our once will be was.
~*~
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rhymesalot 
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