My Mind
• 05/29/19 at 11:28PM •My mind is locked at this time.
I won't weep or become sublime
But will stay to this craft,
Unless, of course, I'm becoming daft.
Always possible in this day and age.
Don't like it? Turn the page.
My mind is locked at this time.
I won't weep or become sublime
But will stay to this craft,
Unless, of course, I'm becoming daft.
Always possible in this day and age.
Don't like it? Turn the page.
I dislike this part of growing old,
When our friends are dropping
Like flies in the cold.
Another class mate
Has now gone away.
It will soon be my turn,
Just not today.
It was at 5, in the morning hour
When a flash of words, did occur,
As I laid in bed. Four lines did emerge,
Written in my mind; no compelling urge
To arise from my toasty warm bed
And write them down, while in my head.
Alas, they are gone, far away from me
And now lost. No longer my reverie.
When the winds blow in, from the sea,
That is the time, I want to be,
Out on the water; the bounding main.
But alas and alack, never again,
Will I return to the sea.
Down the step,
Behind the chair,
There is something hidden,
I am unaware.
A small confusion,
Some think is there.
Try not to startle,
Move with care,
Discover the Cat's
Newest lair.
This old cat
Is silent now.
No extra noise,
Just a meow.
Have I lost the touch?
Have I lost the skill
Of writing words,
That rhyme at will?
A bastion of silence,
A room full of noise.
The shrill sounds coming
From little girls and boys.
A gathering of Angels
Or Cherubs, if you will.
A very harmonious sound,
That brings forth a chill.
A high Melodious voice,
The sound, Heaven's choice.
Sounds that help comfort me.
The most relaxing of noise,
You don't need to see.
This life of ours, that we eschew,
Is not the same as people view.
The importance of the material things,
Like cars, boats, clothes and expensive rings.
Others will find a full life of joy,
When they spend time teaching a girl or boy.
You can see all the love, from within
For others, at life's end or when a love begins.
When you left, you did it with a smile.
You haven't returned; It's been awhile.
Why you left, I'll never know,
But know this; I love you so.
No matter, if there is Sun or Rain,
I'd do it again, in spite of the pain.
Working in our garden, shovel in hand,
Digging and turning over this plot of land,
When from out from a pile of Oregon Grape,
I glimpsed a movement, my mouth agape.
A baby Possum was waddling towards me.
It moved very slowly, not sure it could see,
Walked around my feet, then said adieu,
While meandering slowly, from my view.
I have not seen another Possum here,
That moved around, with so little fear.
There is a serenity that comes over me,
When I plant bulbs or plants.
Knowing that they will soon grow tall
And beautify our garden, letting neighbors see,
The colorful display that nature can bring.
The garden is now starting to do,
What Nature's way, wants it to.
Most daffodils are now gone,
The flowers brown and yet,
Foliage is full and soaks up the Sun.
Tulips are lovely, this time of year,
But I see petals, start to disappear.
The bluebells I planted, are budding now,
As I await the beauty, that I somehow
Think will be there, when in full bloom.
If the weather would warm
It would be quite soon.