Summer Approaches
• 07/01/24 at 07:18AM •Tis Summer,
is what they say.
Why do we still have
wind and clouds today?
Tis Summer,
is what they say.
Why do we still have
wind and clouds today?
With all the wind, came the rain,
To soak the ground, around the flowers,
With an occasional ray of Sun, through
A window pane, gave promise of showers,
Mixed with Sun breaks with no disdain
Of the picnics that last for hours.
This is the second posting
of this little ditty.
It has been mentioned,
I should consider expanding
into a small book for children.
What say Yee?
Come my child and fly with me
to a sunny tropic isle,
where you can see red coconuts
and a purple crocodile.
Imagination is your friend
as we lift, from off the floor,
while spreading wings, beat quicker now
and we begin to soar.
Drifting through the clouds,
like puppets on a string
and wind with it's freshest breath
makes all our clothing sing.
Look down my child,
look down below,
beneath us, on the ground,
as we see trees of coconut
and hills made out of mounds
of chocolate, marshmallows
and other sweets to eat,
provided that you keep it
from sticking to your feet.
I would rise before the Dawn, to jog,
in an attempt to improve my health
Lights in the distance,
pillowed softness,
cottony droplets suspended,
in a milky sea,
sound of distant autos running,
muffled by the blanket of fog.
Trees and shrubs, an
occasional person, shrouded
with white, reflective vapors.
Fog lifts from ponds and marshes,
sounds echoing across the flat.
The explosion of two ducks, rising
with squawking beaks and drumming wings.
These are the memories that I remember
from those days of long ago,
when I was young.
The excitement comes
from anticipation.
Willow trees are fluttering,
Spring winds fly
across green meadows,
under a dappled sky.
Clouds, massive pillows,
slowly passing by,
comforting, this old son.
Another life to try.
Spring eases
into Summer,
with colder weather.
What a bummer.
A car lover,
I still am.
From my youth,
to now when it will end.
I'm going to
stop driving a car.
Won't like it, but
that is the bar.
Not a choice,
I would relish,
for the dissolving
love of friends.
Why must we choose
between two friends,
we both love and trust?
The hurt that is seen,
the pain, that is not,
is hard to understand.
Why those whose love
had been, for years,
now has turned into sand
and dried up tears.
When I was a young man,
I wanted to kiss.
Now I am an older man,
Recalling what I miss.
When we think
Of days gone by,
Should we think again
And always try?
When the days of life
draw near the end
and the light within
begins to dim,
when the breath of
those,
who live today, draws short
while the body withers
and dies.
Will you remember
the times that were
and of the love we had?
Memories are special.
They can take us back,
to a time of less stress.
A good thing.
A lonely tear, slides down my cheek
as I think of this life of ours.
It pains me when recalling you,
now the tear has become two.
I am not weeping, there is no more.
Just the tick of a clock.
Cars always
made my heart beat,
faster. They still do.
I am fascinated by an old car.
A Model S2000, from Honda you see,
Get's the blood pressure up, for me.
Not too practical for me, to be at
But reminds me when I had my Fiat.
A Fiat Spyder, Model one twenty four,
French Blue in color, four on the floor.
A convertible top with two latches to click.
I could drop the top, sitting in traffic.
A great toy, that I did really enjoy.
The S2000's I see, makes be feel like a boy.