Done Again

I woke up early but not sure why.
The sun yet risen, no stars in the sky.
This shortened day will too soon pass.
Memories linger of lush green grass.
~
The water boils and cats get fed.
Should I persist or go back to bed?
Bed is warm, my kitchen’s cold,
New England winters’ getting old.
~
My pad awaits and pencils ready.
Ideas are shaky but hands steady.
Now is now but soon to be then.
If not today perhaps not again.
~
First a letter, then words will follow.
Most are solid, some ring hollow.
But any start’s better than none.
Good or bad, at least it’s done.

~*~
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Spirited

My poor guitar’s in need of strumming.
My morning poem’s not forthcoming.
Seems a house weighs on my brain.
Some might say that I’m insane.
~
But in the hills where trees abound,
behind a stone wall my paradise found.
A storied life I’m sure it’s had.
The next chapter’s mine and I’m glad.
~
Its life began in seventeen twenty.
Surely there are creaks and drafts aplenty.
It’s quite unusual, just one of a few.
It’s also quite large, it’s almost two.
~
Are there spirits? I don’t know.
But if there are I’m sure they’ll show.
And if there’s not that’s OK.
Maybe I’ll be one someday.

~*~
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