The sun’s rising on a happy note. Music’s low, eyes open to what she wrote. Spirit’s high and excitement’s felt. Colorful words shared and dwelt. ~ The sky’s brightening to pastel hues. Old snow absorbs winter’s blues. Each day wanes its frosty reflection. Moments are waiting of pure perfection. ~ Warming’s new, thawing on its way. Lives freshly created every day. Images stage what’s perceived. Minds arrange what’s deceived. ~ Visions form words, words become visions. Answer’s clear but for decisions. As is the suns rise and fall, without doubt. Our projection, this day’s about.
I feel a storm a brewin’
And thoughts, they are a stewin’
Seems procrastination ain’t so great
Time it seems just won’t wait
Youthful dreamin’ put on hold
Earnin’s first, I’ve been told
While the future does still beckon
It’s path though I’ve yet to reckon
But my guitar needs a playin’
And my hips need a swayin’
My pencil needs more dancin’
And of course there’s more romancin’
So much to do, so little time left to waste
Ponderin’s ahead, no need for haste
I am after all a master procrastinator
So I’ll get old, but just a little bit later
Through willow filtered sunshine, I feel your reflections and you mine. With introversion my biggest fear, with hidden face my love I declare. ~ In glistening pools of gentle light, my heart waves to the mind’s fright. If lives written our columns divide, moments unmirrored to cast aside. ~ Hands ever closer the time does drift, the moon creates our daily shift. In the dark our eyes meet, together enlightened tomorrows we’ll greet.
It’s time once again for my daily catharsis. I started late so it’ll be hit or miss. I’ve nothing planned or grand inspiration, none but to quench my daily fixation. ~ The day’s review is well underway. Mind’s full of notes and the music does play. My pencil does lure with infinite grace. Time can be rewritten but we cannot erase. ~ Life though seemingly unpredictable, conclusions often contradictable, our tomorrow’s impossible to comprehend. But tonight I can write a happy end.
In this time of “writer’s block”, I stare blankly at paper and clock. With jumbled prose I try to think, should life be guided by pen and ink? ~ Does a rhyme decide a story’s path? Can a re-verse save us from the wrath? The day is young; there are things to do, but the sky’s gray with a snowy hue. ~ The air is cold, I’ll assume, my spirit’s locked within a room. Doors will open if I choose. When all’s lost there’s none to lose. ~ Persistence colors the choices we make. Is persistence for persistence sake? Do we persist simply to win? If direction’s unclear should we begin? ~ Like life, love, thought and art, questions unanswered are the start. Life ticks forward with us or without. Thoughts will be shared without a doubt. ~ Art will be made with all the thoughts had. And love makes life happy but also sad. Dilemma’s obscure visions true. A vision obscures my dilemma new. ~ I’m seeking an end to what’s now fraught. The past’s the lesson of what’s been taught. And like life, love, thought and art, ends shade poetic an open heart.
Where bumble bees sing to morning blooms, sunshine fills sleepy rooms. Little birds chirp to ring in the day. The town folk thrive and children play. ~ Evening’s all spent cozy and warm; everyone huddles at word of a storm. With a common goal of tranquility, their smiles all share the harmony. ~ Freedom reigns and peace assured, caring for all, we’re all adored. And though this place is yet to be found, in dreams we meet when feet leave the ground.
She’s the radiance of a sunset,
I hope to never end.
She’s the softness of a petal,
on the rose I’d love to send.
My imagination hears her voice,
with every gentle breeze.
My life would fill with thank you’s,
if only I could please.