Tis a life of trials and tribulations,
with moments of wonder and frustrations.
A heart fluxed twixt flutters and fibrillations
The mind perplexed with expectations.
Paths all leading to unknown destinations,
time filled with instantaneous calibrations.
Strengths solidified learning limitations.
And love, perhaps tomorrow, no reservations.
Assuming today’s to be the last, yesterdays are only the past. Tomorrow’s come to fast. ~ Accepting every day’s the same, nights pass, the day’s to blame. Tomorrows come as yesterday came. ~ Acknowledging all’s new, yet lacking yesterday’s clue Tomorrow’s risen oft black and blue. ~ Anticipating each day’s the first, yesterday’s filled quenching thirsts. Tomorrows pass endlessly submersed. ~ Assuring each day’s bright, yesterday’s end with good night. Tomorrow simply see the light.
Reality is different for us all. Some will rise while others fall. Though our time and space is the same, some whither, for others fame. ~ Our state of mind has its say, whether black, white or shades of gray. The blues surround in the color of sky. Is it bright asking why? ~ Optimism and pessimism play a role, highs and lows take their toll. Counting blessings don’t always add up. Half’s irrelevant with a hole in our cup. ~ Reflection and introspection yield clues. But not all answers bring good news. Happiness being just a smile away, I’ll seek yet again another day.
Today’s poem’s not a poem at all. Seems the flow has hit the wall. The change in season’s what I suspect. A change in me I don’t detect. ~ The blues behind, green’s on its way, what happens next I can’t say. Sometime a stick of wood is just that. Or it can start a fire or built a habitat. ~ And with each box we’ve many strikes. Some were used when we were tykes. The rest we save for those rainy days, when again they’ll guide our ways. ~ Jumbled metaphors run through my mind. A start or end I can not find. Perhaps now stopping is best. It’s getting late, I need some rest.
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.
There once was a once upon a time.
Actually there’s many and some do rhyme.
So here it goes another like the rest.
It might not be the worst but won’t be the best.
Once upon a time there was;
bees in a garden sharing a buzz.
They flutter high and they flutter low,
they flit where they need to go.
They all know each other, each by name.
But humans think they’re all the same.
Unwittingly perhaps, speciesists are we,
but they don’t need us as we need the bee.
They grow our food and sweeten our tea,
an absolute necessity, don’t you agree?
So next time you see one, share their buzz.
Cos without them our once will be was.
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