Middle Age Poems

Who would believe I could be such an age
My life has turned over, page after page
So many seasons have passed me by
I understand the saying...

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Let's dwell a tiny bit  on that  skill  most hanker after,
of mastering a language that especially appeals,
infused with magic rhythm so ifervent,
pulsing...

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Walking down the middle of the road, 
chewing on a piece of wheat.
The sun burning hot on my shoulders,
I got no shoes on my feet.
A...

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If I Make It To Old Age

If I make it to old age, I’ll count myself lucky.
Not careful or clever, not courageous or plucky.
It’s all...

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Kicking an empty beer can,
right down the middle of main street.
Taking time to stop and talk,
to any friends that I might meet.

Hey Red Rover, Red...

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‘Blessed I was to be young in an age of charmed dreamers.’

Childhood in suburbia wanting for nothing;
Kickball and flashlight tag ‘til dinner was set; 
Be...

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Excerpt from “fake” encomium given years ago... 
at Lake Wobegone High School (my alma mater), 

and recently discovered ridiculous rough draft
amidst plethora of junk emails
while...

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I’m older than you
The children cry,
Ignore their age as
Middle years roll by,
Proclaim it with
A certain pride
As they near the end
Of life’s long ride...

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Stricken with anguished nausea

Written three years ago tomorrow, 
yet superimposed (likened to 
emotional palimpsest) upon 
mental state of yore
recent post traumatic stress 
triggered courtesy war
torn...

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From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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Camp E-How-Kee.
?

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Camp E-How-Kee
as a child
had it's dark side as well.

Paul...

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In youth, vacations lent my Summers wings
and Christmas gilded wintertime in gold.
I've aged (a bit) and love my Falls and Springs
for landing in between too...

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I have this strange feelings twirling in my stomach since yesterday and it will not go away, it is not a feeling of pain, it’s...

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By George (burning hard), I Shaw tried to playwright

offers his unsolicited tidbits 
as scene courtesy 
the following virtually 
staged philosophical insight.

Arch back like 
a professional...

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A field day shoe fit for Mother Goose
  
Fruitless effort squeezing figurative juice
Pandora called triggering 
helter skelter to get loose
necessitating Bullwinkle J. Moose
to usher...

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Back to you Billy, for ways I whiled away herding ennui

Ah...a flood of memories wash over
this anointed Goatama Boo Da,
whose respected G.O.A.T status
among generic green...

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