Webs in the Attic

I sit at the kitchen table waiting for thoughts to come.
So far none’s forthcoming; I’m hoping there’ll be some.
Time is quickly passing as I stare off into space.
If wasting time were a sport I know I’d win the race.
~
But words don’t run on tracks and thoughts know no time.
But if patience is a virtue then waiting is no crime.
Procrastination is a different thing, results will find away.
It’s a choice that we make to give away our say.
~
Yesterdays’ may be gone but our actions will remain.
Mistakes made along the way will leave a lasting stain.
We wake each day to change, thinking everything’s the same.
But time moves only forward and tomorrows’ we cannot tame.
~
We’ll take our deepest breath and dive in head first.
We try to make the biggest splash to satisfy our thirst.
The volumes fill up fast, their content is our own.
The good we see in others reflects on how we’ve grown.
~
The time is getting late and I’m fading fast.
Why must the future wait while sleeping off the past?
So I’ll wait another day for something new to write.
The winter blues are passing and mornings looking bright.
~
Optimism’s on the rise though heights often chill.
Pessimism is an easy fall but the bottom is no thrill.
Windows will soon be open and fresh starts will appear.
And those webs in the attic just need the spring to clear.

~*~
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Reaching

Yesterday’s thoughts written today,
is tomorrow’s poem on display.
Feelings recorded and colors felt,
the past is gone and hand’s dealt.
~
So I sit with a pad and pen,
soon I’ll write but I know not when.
Will it be happy or a little bit sad?
It may not be good but something’s not bad.
~
My heart beats and music is heard,
the world’s often dark and time’s blurred.
Life and art blend together as one,
eyes open the bleedings begun.
~
The flow consumes and words appear,
for now scattered but without fear.
Steps taken are sure to teach,
that love abounds at arm’s reach.

~*~
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Give and Take

My mind is still, I know not why.
My eyes are open, I see the sky.
My ears are working, I hear the birds.
My mouth hangs open, but no words.
~
My hand fidgets with paper and pen.
Something will happen, but I know not when.
Perhaps some time is what I need.
And when it’s done more ink I’ll bleed.
~
But till then I will pursue,
all the feelings, but the blue.
I’ll live my life and I’ll dream.
I’ll have adventures, but none extreme.
~
Memories I’ll draw on a canvas bright,
stars will guide in the dark of night.
And when my thoughts again do flow,
it’s harmony I feel this I know.

~*~
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Always Time

I could write another love poem,
but all the words I’ve used.
Maybe a poem of friendship and intimacy,
or perhaps how two souls fused.
~
I might write about a sunset,
or maybe the new days’ dawn.
I could weave a tale of unicorns,
since it’s fantasy I’m drawn.
~
I could share more about my dreams,
as it is a third of my time.
But I’m sure I’ll write more love poems,
she being my most passionate rhyme.

~*~
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Could

This poem today could be my last.
Seems all my worries now are past.
Grief all-around still gets me down.
But a man in love can’t wear a frown.
~
This world’s not always a happy place.
Misery’s seen on many a face.
I’ve seen death and felt the pain.
Years have passed to find I’m sane.
~
My feelings spewed on sheets galore.
Forever I searched for an exit door.
Though light trickled through cracks unseen,
time now as bright as it’s ever been.
~
In a warm embrace I now awake.
If given a wish I’d none to make.
But a dream remains of peace on earth.
So write I must for what it’s worth.

~*~
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Show & Tell

Though the poetry of love may come and go,
the love you give is what you show.
There’s the little smile with every glance.
And with every touch a little dance.
~
Hugs are abundant and given free.
And kisses returned with equal glee.
With every joke there’s a little laugh.
And wrongs admitted with every gaffe.
~
Hands are held on every walk.
And ears wide open when we talk.
The future’s seen as time flies by.
And the only blues are in the sky.
~
Sunshine’s felt on a chilly night.
And eyes twinkle beneath starlight.
There’s snuggling close before we sleep.
Then the sharing of dreams we wish to keep.
~
Every morning our day is new.
Every day our troubles are few.
Our hearts beat and emotions swell.
The words a show but the actions tell.

~*~
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