These days of tumult
slowly fade through fear to hope
and finally into joy.
~
With joy we’ll begin
the difficult work that we
know will lie ahead.
These days of tumult
slowly fade through fear to hope
and finally into joy.
~
With joy we’ll begin
the difficult work that we
know will lie ahead.
Though it’s not very
easy, some things can really
be worth waiting for.
~
Waiting’s easier
than all the uncertainty
about what we’re waiting for.
Somebody really
needs a sit-down with someone
and make them read “Leaves of Grass”.
~
Why bother when he’d
call it fake lit and consult
Rudy for litigation.
We watch and wait with
rising hope that we will soon
see the last of him.
~
Or we discover,
much to our shock and dismay,
that the fix was always in.
America proves
that folies à doux is sure
to become a household word.
~
Sanity can be
restored if enough stand strong
and keep clear heads and warm hearts.
We can help create
a new normal by voting
for reason and care.
~
And by extending
that care to those less than pleased,
normal can include healing.
This building fatigue,
growing, spreading sense of dread;
on what do we blame it all?
~
Let’s look for cause, not
blame, then set about finding
best possible remedies.
The full moon makes up
for the sun’s irregular
appearance these past few days.
~
Once in a blue moon
you find that you feel a need
for some moonlit surveillance.
Should we just dispense
with this “Trick or Treat” nonsense?
Haven’t we had our fill yet?
~
We should be pros now.
After 4 years of trick or
treat, we’ve had our fill.
Patience is so hard
to find especially when
there’s so little time.
~
Impatience only
benefits smarmy salesmen,
unless we shout, “Hell No!”
Leaves and grass battle
for the yard’s supremacy,
but the mower wins the day.
~
The land wins the day
with the mower’s shredding help
In battling leaves and grass.
The day might be gray,
but we can choose to focus
on the gold that’s also there.
~
Fire hues abound
both aground and amid trees,
defying the gray heavens.
Six years in the books!
May year seven mark the end
of our poetic protests!
~
It might be time for
poetic celebrations
instead. What say you?
There’s something about
rainy days and playful pups
that leave seniors in the dust.
~
Dig out your raincoat,
gather up your cane, and leash,
and walk that puppy to sleep.
Some will make the time,
planning early, how to vote.
We shall call them Patriots.
~
Some will not accept
a result they do not want.
We shall call them Trumpians.
Can there be any
debate about caged children
or kidnapping governors?
~
Everything is moot,
if there’s no basis in fact
upon which we can rely.
From inside this box,
the world is very scary,;
unpredictably open!
~
We seek protection
by living in boxes and
don’t see the danger within.
A puppy helps us
discover the delight that
can be found in a pinecone.
~
Pinecones are such fun
for the young and young at heart;
if we are allowed to play
Sometimes the mood strikes.
Other times it goes on strike.
Let’s just not strike the colors.
~
You triumphed over
every passing mood and wrote
anyway. That’s all that counts.
So many chances
to worry, so many times
to return home to the breath.
~
When returning home,
finding only empty fears,
tends to take one’s breath away.
I am exhausted!
Worn out by wearing the hats
and bridging the gaps all day!
~
A gap day or two
where you take off those hats and
simply rest is best.
Knock, knock, who’s there? Knox.
Knox who? It’s the pits. No bull.
I need a home too.
~
Anyone can find
some old place to rest their head,
but that ain’t what makes a home.
Beyond any doubt,
what seems logical to some,
is irrational to me!
~
They say one man’s truth
is another man’s lie and
his meat another’s poison.
A creator’s joy –
to see what emerges is
far better than expected.
~
Looking at this piece…
that’s but one of many gems
we took from our creator!
Teak and old iron,
salvaged from deck box and chest,
becomes patio table.
~
Visionaries see
beyond what is and transform
what was into something new.
Rather than a force
to reckon with, he’s a farce
to be ashamed of.
~
History will regard
this defective President
as a pox upon our house.
All great men reside
somewhere on a line between
hero and a horse’s ass.
~
And every woman,
great or not, has to point out
where he now resides.
Possible autumn
comforts: colorful trees, Mitch
ditched, and a new president.
~
Any one of these
would reduce autumnal blues,
two or three would be gravy.
Uncontrolled passions
are a liability
crippling as heartlessness.
~
Extremes of fire
and extremes of ice ravage
both giver and receiver.
The president gets
a medical exam on
live tv? You’re kidding me!
~
A comprehensive
physical is worth the watch…
at least the prostate exam.