Days pass without a thought. Life flows, words are naught. Fantasy’s forged, reality wrought. Patience builds, time has taught. ~ The future is the past brought. The present is where caught. Work consumes, hurdle fraught. Solace earned, never bought. ~ Joy is when not distraught. Dreams fought, wishes besought. Love defined by what is sought. Success is, as it ought.
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.
It all starts when the turkey is done. A month flies by while on the run. I don’t mean to be a Scrooge or Grinch, but I can be either in a pinch. ~ I don’t really hate the holidays, but time could be spent in better ways. We cut down trees to place on stands. We’ll slap on balls with eager hands. ~ We cover it in lights to watch it glow. Then when droopy to the curb it’ll go. We wrap up gifts to pile high, then the bill comes in and we all cry. ~ We’ll fill up bags with excess waste, adding last year’s things we bought in haste. So maybe next year we can stop and pause. And maybe give a vacation to old Santa Claus.
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.
Our day of thanks is past. And Christmas is coming fast. Now all the roads are jammed. And mailboxes are getting spammed. ~ Traveling from all around, our friends and family abound. The mistletoe will hang in wait, ready for the kissers’ fate. ~ With ornaments galore arranged, precious gifts will be exchanged, The food and fun will joyfully flow. But then it’s back to shoveling snow.
As a man I question my greed. As a poet I question my need. As a professional I question a lot. As an artist it’s questions I’ve got. ~ As a pessimist my questions are tough. As an optimist I question not enough. As a slacker I question overtasking. As one with answers I question the asking. ~ As a thinker I question the question. As a lover I question the suggestion. As a person I question my will. And as of today I’m questioning still.