The forest a muse
Trade green for the blues
Discover its clues
And feel nature’s views
~
The forest a muse
Sensation’s to choose
There’s many to use
And nothing to lose
~
The forest a muse
Sense the world’s cues
Write to amuse
And share the good news
~*~
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While cleaning up my desk,
I paused to take a look.
Under years and years of mess,
I chanced upon a notebook.
~
Scribbles filled the sheets,
doodles blurred the sides.
Leaf by leaf a pattern grew,
much like the changing tides.
~
Up and down my life’s gone by,
pretty pictures were for show.
Themes were abundant,
my feelings to and fro.
~
Reaching the cardboard end,
an epiphany spiraled fourth.
Each page was incomplete,
like a compass without a north.
~
My direction undecided,
goals were scrapped with ease.
My life’s been but a metaphor,
as is a whisper in the breeze.
~*~
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The day starts in silence.
My mind for now’s at ease.
Dreams are now forgotten.
The future I’m off to seize.
~
Yesterday’s now a memory.
Tomorrow’s too far to know.
Today my destiny beckons.
Tonight success will glow.
~
Disappointments will be many.
Missteps will abound.
My feet will guide me forward.
Destinations will be found.
~
I know not where I’m going.
Arriving is not the goal.
The journey is the purpose.
There I can rest my soul.
~*~
SCK051822
April second has finally arrived.
Fools were tricked as contrived.
Games were played, some were lost.
Some were duped or double crossed.
~
A year now past and summer’s near.
Winter surprises we’ll no longer fear.
Warmth consumes and stress we’ll shed.
Sunny thoughts now shine ahead.
~
Autumn will come, leaves will fall.
Next it’s time for a Christmas ball.
Then the months when all is gray,
again we’ll wish for April fool’s day.
~*~
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Blinked and missed the rainbow,
tripped and missed the fall.
I slid right into winter,
waited for spring to call.
~
I didn’t hear the ring,
so I put on my old snow boots.
I tiptoed out the door,
everybody’s picking fruits.
~
I check to see the time,
but I see my watch is lost.
I wish to start life over,
can’t imagine what’s the cost.
~
Forward I must go,
eyes now open wide.
I may be but half-witted,
but at least half is on my side.
~*~
SCK031322
My tale begins with a cautious note;
you should never try to jump a mote.
Pay the admission and take the boat.
You’ll spend ten bucks but save your coat.
~
The rest of the day wasn’t much better,
it started to rain and we all got wetter.
My friend ruined her new wool sweater.
Then we all got chased by a big Irish setter.
~
We called a cab but didn’t all fit,
in the trunk I had to sit.
Getting out my pants then split.
It was a horrible time I’d like to forget.
~
We woke up the next day and the sun was bright.
But the temperature plunged overnight.
The roads were icy and a terrible sight.
My coat had shrunk and now it’s too tight.
~
Stuck in our rooms the rest of the trip,
the best of our tour we’d have to skip.
Our bill came and I bit my lip,
the service was good but could afford no tip.
~
The day finally came to leave this place;
we all got up late and had to race.
The bus came late and almost out of space.
When we got off I forgot my suitcase.
~
At the airport our flight was delayed.
A blizzard was coming and everyone’s afraid.
A pet skunk got loose and I got sprayed.
Now gladly home, where I should’ve stayed.
~*~
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I thought by now I’d know;
when to stay and when to go,
when to whisper or to scream,
when to wake from yesterday’s dream.
~
I thought by now I’d see;
a more successful version of me,
perhaps a leader at the helm,
I’d guide the future of my realm.
~
I thought by now I’d feel;
the joys of persistence and of zeal.
I think I’m almost there,
with thoughts that I can share.
~*~
SCK030222
Should have ended yesterday, do is today.
Tomorrow’s yet to come and we have the say.
Most tasks can be trivial but they must be done.
First things must be first, before we have our fun.
~
Could have’s not a reason, would have is worse.
That woulda, coulda, shoulda, the habitual curse.
The only thing that matters is who we truly are.
Do the things you need to do, surely you’ll go far.
~*~
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The sun has risen on a beautiful day.
Why it will be I cannot say?
But I woke at dawn and I feel great.
My house is warm and troubles can wait.
~
The coffee is hot and the music’s down low.
I won’t ponder how the future might go.
For now, all’s good, no problems in sight.
This day is bright and I see the light.
~*~
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To all my WordPress likes, or no
Your many gifts have helped me grow
For you my thanks I’d like to show
(though procrastination makes it slow)
With no further aside let’s give it a go
***
May all your hopes and dreams come true
Or at least get some rest
For another year’s upon us
I wish you all the best
And have a very merry holiday
With a dash of Ho, Ho, Ho!!!
And may your bells be jingled
Beneath the mistletoe
~*~
sck121615
I’m off to see a wizard, the wonderful wizard of odd
It flutters all about waving a feathered rod
But first I’ll take a nice long nap
Wake up then find my thinking cap
~
I’ll sharpen my quills like a warrior’s blade
And joust with parchment where magic’s made
Then dig into my helmet, always full of goo
Hopefully to yank out something that is new
~
I never know what or if it may be
Until the ink dries then I’ll get to see
What magic has this wizard left?
Something clever or something deft
~
Sometimes the words all disappear
Then time has passed, wasted here
Though journeys un-ventured, high or low
Are the adventures you will never know
~
So follow your wizard and you will find
Those magical wizards are mostly kind
Though often absent, never fret, I’ve a hunch
Some wizards are just out to lunch
~*~
Sck052615
Artful Sight
Colors the world bright
Sunrise, sunset, dark of night
Paint box filled with light
~
Night Rhythms
Notes strewn, candles fade
Laughter ebbs, whispers consume
Heartbeats set the tone
~
Fine Line
Lustful sheets beckon
Bodies tingle, lips moisten
Blood boils – time to write!
~*~
Sck060415
“Ignorance is bliss”
Is a good motto to have
If the only choice
~*~
sck071815
~
To all the writers never known
To the few from which we’ve grown
From their words the future’s sown
Rearranged to call our own
~
To all of those that do it now
From palette pure to graven brow
Investing all we dare allow
Divesting that we can’t avow
~
Time records in poem and prose
Imagined journeys no one knows
From euphoric highs to deadly lows
The tide of emotion forever flows
~
Looking back at history
Or hypothesizing infinity
Sensations felt we can’t see
Ink bled sets us free
~
Where to start, that depends
Our time alone shared with friends
Yet all stories must have ends
Well submerged is where life blends
~
Write the dark to see the light
Time always wins the fight
And when you lay awake tonight
Rest assured our future’s bright
~*~
Sck112315
~~~
Nature batters, scarring far and wide.
Forgotten battles forever tied.
Man and rock bear the loss of all who’ve died.
Rugged faces change with the changing of a tide.
~
Keeping the wary from a watery hell,
a craggy post a dutiful keeper dwell.
Keeping by day his glass shined bright,
by night he keeps his flame alight.
~
Warning all comers never to near,
this beacon of virtue is only to fear.
Bravely they stand against wind and wave,
the ocean master, keeper slave.
~
Chores of many, companions none.
Sleep begins when work is done.
Ventures end before the dark.
His light stands silent awaiting spark.
~
Beyond this rock and choppy cove,
a small town lie where tales are wove.
Stories of stormy seas abound,
and faraway lands where treasure’s found.
~
In town sits a churchyard overlooking the sea.
Where the keeper visits when a calm day’s free.
Collects his needs quickly, no time for desire.
His row is long to return to his fire.
~
Scores of seasons drifted behind.
The keeper and kept, two of a kind.
Their toils unnoticed, yet seen by all.
Keeping kept the keepers call.
~
Reflections of stars upon the sea.
Infinite horizons awaiting he.
A beacon to all, his lamp not aglow.
To see the light the keep did go.
~
The town sad for their keeper unknown.
He was buried with care as one of their own.
At the edge of the churchyard lie the keep.
With eternal vistas of the light and the deep.
~
Dozens of keepers tried to keep.
All had left quickly, missing their sleep.
Stories told of the old keeper’s ghost.
A most spirited and demanding of host.
~
He rattled windows and slammed doors,
once hid away the old rowboats oars.
His steps are heard on the stairs all night,
sometimes blowing out the lighthouse’s light.
~
On a chilly morn some years past,
a storm was brewing, approaching fast.
A hardy young sailor paddled for the light,
racing the waves ahead of the night.
~
With setting sun and drenching rain,
wind and waves pummeled, no refrain.
Shores altered with the rising tide,
The hilltop churchyard couldn’t hide.
~
The keeps remains returned to sea.
The young sailor now keeps – happily.
And ever since that fateful day,
the old keeper’s spirit kept at bay.
~*~
Sck102415
Has a Ball
.
What surrounds us all;
Warms, chills, cries – never dies?
Ever changing skies
~
Fusion
.
Old flames reunite
Fueled and mingling freely
When all becomes ash
~
Merry-Go-Round
.
Around and around
We all go, around what is
What I’d like to know
~*~
Sck061715
Rulablelesssness
Poetry is speech
From hearts not minds – unconfined
Grammar cast aside
*
Metaphoric Netalism
A net full of holes
Will always fill with something
Without there’s nothing
*
All’s Write
Hands write history
A mind writes philosophy
Hearts write poetry
~
Sck110514
Adventures begin
When four wheels spin
On shady paths and city streets
In knitted booties or tiny bare feets
~
Our big happy faces loudly giggle
My little pink piggy’s squiggle and wiggle
When breezes tickle in warming sun
Our shiny four wheels are always fun
~
We go fast and slow, up and down
Sometimes mom calls dad a clown
Birds and dogs, signs and sound
There are moving pictures all around
~
With me always on journey’s far
Folds up neat to fit in the car
Adventure time’s what I like best
But sometime strollers need a rest
*
The End
.
Sck103114
~
Stories of a life hidden beneath the grays
Peel back the many layers, see the brighter days
Shades grow ever subtle; space grows to its end
Hues upon a palette, in time all will blend
~
Our colors, depths and textures all leave their traces
Memories in murals and the portraits many faces
Like time measured in the trees ringed grain
Reflections of our many years of snow, ice and rain
~*~
sck091415
~
Colors of autumn, death’s in bloom.
Return to the earth, the seeds’ final tomb,
nourishing yet another season.
We’re all guests of earth for this reason.
~
And thus the surety of life;
prosperity, mediocrity or strife.
All to return to where once came,
regardless of misfortune or fame.
~
For life is but a lesson –
throughout our mortal existence.
A test of our bodies, minds
and hearts persistence.
~
We’re all creatures of the same seed.
Return to the earth, our souls freed.
So let us not perceive death an end –
simply a new life to transcend.
~
For death is the exploration
of dimensions unknown.
And thus the destiny of the seed-
Grown
~
Sck2014/84
Time for time-out it’ll end soon.
Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.
She’s had it since her wedding day.
Used just for holidays, not play.
*
I said that it was shaped just right,
to dig a trench where armies can fight.
Needs to be deep but not too wide.
Had to dig fast so they can hide.
*
Buried far down just like a tomb.
Guarding treasure found in your room.
Found in a box high on a chest.
It’s the booty pirates like best.
*
I must protect those shiny things:
chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.
Hid them good, remembered the map.
But then forgot after my nap.
*
To help me dig I found a pet.
The best digger there is I’ll bet.
Finished our yard then went next door.
Found nothing, ran off to dig more.
*
Chased our cat high up in the tree.
Grandma called the police for me.
Her nurse had to help make the call.
The police came, that isn’t all.
*
While chasing his dog that I found,
the man fell from holes in the ground.
He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.
I said it was his dog, not me.
*
His face was red, limping away.
But grandma’s heart will be okay.
And I have some more good news.
While digging today, I wore no shoes.
*
They’re nice and clean and tucked away.
I’ll try no pants some other day.
Though mess was made with my bare feet,
I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.
*
Pushed all the water out the door.
Then to your room, I cleaned some more.
Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.
I luckily then found the bleach.
*
You’ll smile when you turn on the light.
I know you like things clean and white,
with spots of color here and there.
You’ll surely hug your little dear.
*
I’m glad you’re home early today.
Don’t believe what the neighbors say.
The rescue came, Dad’s all right.
Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.
*
Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.
I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.
I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.
Fix the chair dad broke with his back.
*
He climbed too high to find his keys,
lost his balance from wobbly knees.
I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.
Then found soldiers under my bed.
*
Recalled the mission to be done.
Ran downstairs to start the fun.
Found no spoons not already bent.
But then found yours and out I went.
*
And that’s where my story began.
Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.
I know that time-outs hurt you too.
But when it’s done I’ll still love you.
*
The End
sck2014
My word for the day is unforthcoming.
The results of which have got me bumming.
Its meaning is clear and so apropos.
I need to write but I’ve lost the flow.
~
People I ask are too unforthcoming.
The guesses they make are all unbecoming.
Or they just shrug and say “I don’t know”.
My patience then reaches another plateau.
~
The future’s events remain unforthcoming.
Yet my wordy obsession is clearly mind numbing.
I’ve planted this seed that now I must sow.
I’ve felt the drought and now I must grow.
~
Though this poem’s end is still unforthcoming,
my mood’s improving, soon I’ll be humming.
But to not get too stressed I’ll take it real slow,
so if not today then surely tomorrow.
~*~
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rhymesalot 