optimism

Rags & Riches

~

The millionaire poets, no dollars just sense

Their estates so large too big for a fence

With endless pens to harness the needs

Gardens abound grown from their seeds

~

Though time not made with gold on wrist

Dawn awakes when morning kissed

Wealth’s not held it’s how you see

When life’s embrace forever free

~*~

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Time Will Come

Morning’s meant for mourning.

Day’s meant for life.

Evening’s time for rest,

ending the days strife.

~

Morning is time to ponder.

Day is time to do.

Night’s for reflection,

when no one’s watching you.

~

Mornings are the start.

They make the day brand new.

Good or bad, darkness comes,

another chance for moons of blue.

~*~

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Forgettable Optimism

When a feeling’s something new, it’s never forgot.

A poem is a feeling, mixed with our thought.

The thought noted, drafted, written and expressed.

 ~

But for every poem expressed others go unwritten.

For those that go unwritten drafts will drift away.

For every draft shuttered notes have gone astray.

For all the notes strewn some thoughts might simmer.

 ~

Some thoughts evaporate and forgotten forever.

Then thoughts forgotten become a feeling of something new

A new feeling never to forget for the optimistic few

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