A rainy start, but

a blue sky, sun filled ending

to a hectic day.

~

Again, after dark,

the rains return with vengeance

to saturate the soil.

Seeking perfection

most often finds us wanting,

reaching beyond our limits.

~

What’s a heaven for

if not to encourage us

to reach beyond our limits?

Thank you, my son, for

all your help today. My mood

and the yard are much improved.

~

Your granddaughter cheers

the removal of the bane

of her rare visitation.

When we all assume

they’re just after our money,

are we doing them a wrong?

~

Whenever we make

assumptions, we could be wrong.

Pay attention. Time will tell.

It’s true that when it

rains it pours, but what if when

it floods you don’t have a boat?

~

Then you pray a friend

happens by with room in his,

or you trust the government.

None can deliver

a wound quite like a loved one,

mostly without intention.

~

And none can forgive

quite like the wounded who knows

the wounding one’s heart.

Some folks mistake roads

for raceways and on rainy

nights there’s much to lose.

~

In fact, there’s nothing

so valuable to warrant

such excessive, reckless, haste.

To those teacher’s names

long lost in my memory

your efforts aren’t forgotten.

~

We may not recall

your names, but what you taught us

is foundational.

Red signs everywhere,

asking for votes for a guy

who’s endorsed by Trump.

~

Political signs

maladorning the landscape;

unwelcome autumn color.

Today, I saw him

flitting, briefly, to repose

awhile on the milkweed.

~

Such a sight can bring

delight, especially when

we need it the most.

When winning is more

important than principle,

integrity bites the dust.

~

It’s easy to lose

more than you anticipate

when winning’s your only goal.

When plans fall apart,

how can we pick up pieces

and move forward as before?

~

We can move forward

but not like before. Now we

have some new pieces.

The slowly turning

leaves announce the arrival

of colorful October.

~

Turning leaves herald

approaching crisper weather…

among other things.

Is it irony

when our most cherished beliefs

are not supported by facts?

~

It is ironic

when our passionately held

truths turn out to be fiction.

Nothing light, nothing

heavy – just a much welcomed

ordinary day.

~

… at least, what passes

for ordinary in these

extraordinary times.

It’s an achievement;

I’ve been blogging seven years?

So they would have me believe!

~

And how long have we,

fellow poet, been blogging

daily with one another?

Today I offered

a silent thanks. Things worked out

better than I thought they would.

~

Low expectations

offer us greater chances

to be pleasantly surprised.

When we are surprised

by something unexpected,

why conceal our reaction?

~

Surprises sometimes

leave us frozen, unable

to feel or react.

There’s something about

a dog that invites us to

relax, let go, and have fun.

~

Positive regard,

canine’s stock in trade, breeds

self-actualization.

Love trumps logic

and financial common sense .

It’s this that makes us humane.

~

Love is a logic

of the heart that is deeper

than pockets will ever be.

Why play ego games

with the economy when

we all have so much to lose?

~

Modern politics;

studies in aggrandizement

at the cost of Statesmanship.

Action long delayed

yields immense satisfaction,

when, finally, undertaken.

~

Then we shake our heads

and wonder what in the world

made us wait so long.

Is there anything

that spells contentment as much

as cats basking in the sun?

~

Maybe pigs in slop

are equally contented,

but oddly less appealing.

Beneath the night sky

we walk with flashlights, waiting

for the rising moon.

~

She, upon rising’s,

clad in orange; homage to

forest fires, far away.

That smoke and mirrors

they use to obscure the facts,

only proves there’s a fire.

~

Fires, used rightly,

can provide warmth and light, but

they’d call it socialism.

Poems await their

poets and their poets wait

for inspiration.

~

Inspiring words

often arrive a bit late,

leaving us poets hungry.

Get your hands dirty,

they said, it builds character,

they said, with un-calloused palms.

~

With calloused hearts, they

proclaim while their characters

could use some cleaning.

Three yellow flowers

shimmering in the sun – though small

they lit up my day.

~

And three butterflies

flitter between them all day

under the shimmering sun.

Introducing men

to the meaning of manhood‘s

not about testosterone.

~

Indeed it isn’t,

and what a blessing it will

be when that news spreads.

When poets argue,

do they do so in rhyme and

does verse make it worse?

~

We seek out the wurst

poetry has to offer.

Don’t contend this is a crime.