Tag: Poetry

Delayed

We have arrived at the land of the delayed
Where we have joined the herds found at the gate.
All of our travel plans have been frayed,
And I am sure we will arrive a day late.
Still, there is our priest with a microphone,
Preaching a sermon that may give us hope.
It helps to know that we are not alone;
A congregation allows us to cope.
You find us collected in airports
And terminals across this great nation.
Though we may seem, at times, all out of sorts,
We understand each’s indignation.
We ask for safe, timely arrival,
To never again go through this trial.

Fifty

As my brittle bones start to creak and moan,
And my joints pop with every movement,
I stare at the next morning with a groan,
And wonder where this half century went.
I have gained plenty more bathroom visits,
And they seem to take a little longer
Because not ev’rything wants to exit
Though my resolve to do so grows stronger.
The skin around my eyes begins to sag
Because I have to squint to see these words.
To recall my sharp wit takes a long lag
Where the replay comes so late, it’s absurd.
Nobody told me it would be nifty,
The day after I have become fifty.

Happy New Year

Have we accomplished all we wanted to
Before that final ticking of the clock?
What are the burdens we will carry through
That we could not rid ourselves from the stock
That we collected through the course of the year?
Is this something we must really endure
Or should we look for a life full of cheer?
Maybe that is where we will find the cure
To the tiny moments that bring us down.
Maybe we should leave those problems behind.
We do not need to wear that heavy crown,
For to its weight, we did not have to bind.
We can enter the day with a new start,
Taking with us a joyous and free heart.

Welcoming Christmas

After all of the presents have been wrapped
And placed underneath the glittering tree;
After the snows have come and kept us trapped
In the one place where are meant to be;
After the chimney flu has been opened
For the crackling fire to keep us warm;
After the wine is no longer rationed
And swirls in the glasses we hold firm;
After we snuggle down on the love seat
With soft carols playing in the background;
After we’ve prepared for the night to greet
With all the family we want around;
Then I can tell all my worries to pass
As I welcome on the the day of Christmas.

A Cafe on a Wednesday Afternoon

I lean back in my chair in the cafe
As I take another pull off my beer.
The sun is departing us for the day,
But I am glad that its warmth is still near.
People come and go on the cobblestones,
Checking off errands and meeting their friends.
I try to distinguish their foreign drones
To see their desires meet the same ends.
I will find the time to order again
Because there is no place I need to be,
For it would surely be a mortal sin
Without another drink in front of me.
It may be Wednesday in the business land,
But I got more important things on hand.

The Winter of Our Autumn

The sun will eventually come today
Though it’s hidden behind the morning fog.
Somehow those rays of light will find a way
To tear it to tiny bits like a dog.
It will take away the cold autumn chill
To give us remembrance of summer.
When the daytime breeze gives us a small thrill,
It is now nothing more than a bummer
Portending for us the call of winter.
We can just pretend that it is the spring
Where we’re to the sun, only a renter
Of the fall’s warmth it is willing to bring.
We will soon have to batten down our doors,
So we should take what the autumn implores.

Getting There

Sometimes, it’s about the destination
Because the journey is such a headache;
You just want an end to the frustration,
For, in life, you are in need of a break.
You can’t enjoy leaving at witching hour
On a plane limited with open space.
They will take away all of your power,
So your wallet can save a little face.
Even when your plane eventually lands,
It does not mean you’ve finally arrived.
It just checks off one of many errands,
And you still wonder if you will survive.
It is not until the following day
Where we can go out and enjoy the play.

Beyond the Mountain Road

No one will visit us in the country
As they have to drive up a windy road
Made of dirt, guarded by a horde of trees,
Not offering much room for a wide load.
We can nestle in our tiny chateau,
Listening to the low of the neighbor’s cows.
The wild grasses are allowed to grow;
As wind blows, they join in uniform bows.
The winter snows will eventually come,
Locking us in the valley until Spring.
The weather will continually drum
As we enjoy the freedom that it brings.
I’ll revel in the mountain solitude,
Not believing my escape to be rude.

The Castle Walls

On the hill, we built the fortification
To discourage the invading forces
From thinking they can take this great nation.
They may bring their catapults and horses
To show off their might at our castle walls,
But we are ready for their advances.
They expect our sovereignty to fall
Because of their military dance,
But we will not be intimidated
By their shiny medals and puffy hats.
We will not be so easily bated
For they are nothing more than spoiled brats.
There is a reason we built it so high,
Just so out heritage will never die.

An Autumn Stroll

Uneven cobblestones make up the lane
As I try to find some better footing,
But the were leaves won’t allow any gain.
The path is gathering them by looting
The fall tress of their greatest finery.
They can no longer offer protection
Against the strong wind that blows so chilly
From its mountainous fortification.
I dig my hands deeper in my pockets
As I peek out from underneath my hood.
I start to remember things life forgets
Like how moments like this used to be good.
Nostalgia returns in the autumn
As each step sings with the crunches that come.