Reflections

In a mirror we see what we feel.
In a lover’s eyes we see what’s real.
The face you see is the one that’s yours.
A glowing smile when you open doors.
~
Lips will say “I love you so”.
Hearts then beat because you know.
Eyes twinkle with every greeting.
Arms hold at every meeting.
~
The future’s embraced without pain.
Time then passes on a different plane.
Truth enlightens when two are near.
Reflections insure the vision’s clear.

~*~
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Whom Me

There’s another me I’ve yet to see.
And this other me won’t let this one be.
Both see with my eyes and screw with my head.
But only one’s good, the other better off dead.
~
Never certain whom will wake,
or the trouble they will make.
Their highs often go way, way too far,
their lows always leaving a scar.
~
I need to know from where this comes,
who eats cake and who gets crumbs?
This rollercoaster must soon stop,
but then a merry-go-round I will hop.
~
I’m forcing this poem for a change,
may not be good but surely strange.
And maybe someday we can all agree,
whom the f*** is the real me.

~*~
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Moments Monumental

With each day we do learn,
life is more than we yearn.
Responsibilities never end,
more to share and to lend.
~
We give and take for others sake,
returns in kind for us to make.
Care is given when received.
Truth abounds when not deceived.
~
Time propels, weights constrain,
with each second the past we gain.
Hearts and minds of equal measure,
balance stacked for us to treasure.
~
Skies brighten and again to dim.
Stars don’t shine on a whim.
Thinking love, feeling wise,
tomorrow’s I hear are before our eyes.

~*~
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Can’t Write *ove No More

A stack of sonnets,
but nowhere to send,
their beginning was joyous.
I wept at the end.
~
This stack of sonnets,
sit lonely by my side.
Paper thin memories,
time I’d rather hide.
~
My stack of sonnets,
never to be read.
A future seen,
then instantly shred.
~
A stack of sonnets,
were drawn from my heart.
Now I feel empty.
And wish I didn’t start.

~*~
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Checking Out

Counting the days till days don’t count,
there’ll be no worries or any doubt.
There’s never to be a frown or a pout.
I could stay in or I can go out.
~
Counting the days for my time to sprout,
I’ll get up late with nothing to think about.
I can be really quite or scream and shout.
I’ll always be mellow and never freak out.
~
Counting the days to assume some clout,
each moment’s new with adventures to scout.
Destinations will be celebrations to tout.
The sun will shine with or without
~
Counting the days thought getting stout.
All will be friends, but for the lout.
I’ll need no maps and never to rout.
I’m never locked in or lucked out.
~
Counting days before the days run out,
when never a tear or ever a drought.
Choices all mine, all else to flout.
And blessings counted before checking out.

~*~
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The Sands of Time Between My Toes

As a boy I walked the beach every day.
I stared at the horizon to find my way.
Visions of tomorrow filled my head;
days without fear and a true love to wed.
~
Ripples between obscured the view.
Sink or swim’s all I could do.
Years thrashing to stay afloat,
my life preserver’s gone and I no boat.
~
From the storm a distant shore arose.
Memories conjured with sand between her toes.
With a youthful splash and mind in the skies,
yesterday’s future floated before my eyes.
~
Was a summer returned, the same and new.
That time’s now gone but dreams came true.
The boy now grown, ending his wait.
If a past meant to be it wouldn’t be late.

~*~
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The Sands of Time Between My Toes

As a boy I walked the beach every day.
I stared at the horizon to find my way.
Visions of tomorrow filled my head;
days without fear and a true love to wed.
~
Ripples between obscured the view.
Sink or swim’s all I could do.
Years thrashing to stay afloat,
my life preserver’s gone and I no boat.
~
From the storm a distant shore arose.
Memories conjured with sand between her toes.
With a youthful splash and mind in the skies,
yesterday’s future floated before my eyes.
~
Was a summer returned, the same and new.
That time’s now gone but dreams came true.
The boy now grown, ending his wait.
If a past meant to be it wouldn’t be late.

~*~
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