Could Have Been

Twas the dawning of the new,
where a seaside village grew.
Novice and native confused.
From each the other felt used.

Forests deep or oceans wide,
betwixt unknown where demons hide.
Hovels cluster to brave surrounds.
Perils beckon with all new sounds.

Ships multiply within the decade.
Promises broken to many made.
Seeds planted and families grown,
the first of the babes soon on their own.

One such named Sam while out to fetch wood,
kept up with his mom, best he could.
Yet he dallied about and lost his way,
the first of many an enlightening day.

Surrounded by darkness, Sam was afraid,
he awaited death from errors made.
The silence broken by crackling leaf,
eaten or captured will end his grief.

There in the moonlight to Sam’s surprise,
a scared young squaw was before his eyes.
Sam huddled close with his new friend Fawn.
They shared the warmth till the new day’s dawn.

Their words spoken with only a glance,
parting as friends made by chance.
Fawn pointed toward Sam’s pathway home.
He turned to thank her, yet she did roam.

Sam soon safe, years soon pass.
Herds dwindle, slaughtered in mass.
Danger dies when dangers burn,
for dreams of freedom we all yearn.

With hardy to fore, lessor the back,
Prey all around for the attack.
Muskets in hand to kill the beast,
the fallen a joy of an autumnal feast.

Alone in the wood, sun fading fast,
Sam’s in a daze lost in the past.
He sat and pondered without any fear,
recalling his Fawn, the little dear.

Thanks to her Sam’s here today,
assisting the ruin to make his way.
The silence broken by crackling leaf,
There stood his Fawn, ending his grief.

Sam rose in the moonlight reflecting her eyes.
Her pain carved deep by years of cries.
The pair ventured north, far as they could.
Their legend ends there; we’ll assume that’s good.

~*~

Sck113015

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A Thanksgiving Verse

With eyes to the heavens, feet on the earth, hands to our hearts and with our souls radiating from within in all directions, everywhere, to everyone, feel the unity of flesh, spirit and our minds; for we are many, we are one.

Let us rejoice and pay tribute to our forebears, their memory roams among us. It is their remains beneath our feet, covered by the soils of our homage. For it was they who suffered, toiled and worked tirelessly and proudly. It was they who fought the harshest of elements and the temptations of giving up. It was they, whose only desire was to build a home, where once nothing, home for their children, our children and the future.

Let us give our thanks and praise to those that lived before us, to the men and women who gave all and asked nothing in return but the hope, a dream that what they’ve done was good.

Sck1985

Wock the Fock

Clocks no longer tick and tock
Keys unneeded for heads to lock
Brains rattle from what’s now rock
Age divides by the Dr’s Spock

Less is more in a frock
Big pants needed for a glock
Weaklings trampled, the rest to mock
Sheep gather and shepherds flock

Inky portions above the sock
Lightning strikes always shock
Ships of fools sit on a dock
Boats float down the block

Looters lament taking stock
Homeless homes best to knock
Future’s fresh in a fetid crock
Till time no more will tick or tock

~*~

sck112515

Posthumous Futures

~

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