We walk, hand in hand , we talk ~
cotton candy and caramel apples,
music, rides and fanfare,
sounds of joy and laughter in the air.
Let the festivities commence:
flashing lights and chaos,
screams and giggles,
rides and arcade games.
The carnies are hyped up
with their wiles and guiles
to entice us in all ways.
Summer is not complete 'til
we’ve had our fun at the carnival.
Reality and time warped ~
our youth tangible
within our grasp
under the spell of unbridled
gaiety at the carnival.
The sights and sounds of
youth and joy and memories.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I know
You'd return every winter,
To remind me
Of all the frozen nights.
But,
With the commence of spring And the warmth of wind, I'd be unmoved
Whether you stay or not.
In twilight’s hush, where dreams commence,
I wandered lost in limerence.
A glance, a spark, a breathless flame,
Yet never once he spoke my name
Love lived in ache, not permanence.
Who am I to wake a beast
Dressed up in stark reality?
For all the signs I could not read
And all the signs I did not see,
Love left within a vacancy.
Who am I to stir the storm beneath
A fragile mask, a velvet sheath?
I danced with ghosts in memory,
Chased echoes in the elegy.
Love, once a fire, now absentee
A whisper lost to vacancy.
Oh NO….it’s here
Hope springing eternal
Bringing with it
The plague of pollen
That nose drip
Even a plumber can’t fix
Oh, and MUD…
AND PUDDLES
AND WET DOGS
And those spinny things
Fluttering everywhere
And the birds
Oh those birds, birds, birds, birds, birds
The neverendingchatter
Of those birds, birds, birds, birds, birds
That chitter chatter squawking
The beady eyes a-gawking
Of those birds,
A tree and wire choir
Chirping lower and then higher
Swaying gently in the breeze
The same one that makes me sneeze
Oh spring
When I am inside I adore you
But when outside I deplore you
But you must do your duty
Shake your pollen coated booty
Tempt the bees in invitation
To commence with pollination
There's nothing funnier than a cross-eyed chicken
With legs the size of your arm
The Chicken Emporiums would sure love to know
The name of this progressive farm
Aside from the unnerving cross-eyed feature
The implications are really immense
Imagine a leg on your plate so humongous
You wouldn't know where to commence
The cross-eyed feature might cause some concern
If the patrons viewed this poor old bird
Before it was rendered suitable for consumption
It sure looked hilariously absurd
The cross eyes were caused by trying to eject
A super sized extra large egg
Probably gave the poor brave chicken a hernia
Before passing it, for mercy it begged
Such is the way of us civilized humans
Thinking of our bellies all day
Paying no attention to these cross-eyed chickens
As they dance to the hen house ballet
hhmmmmm
Her short skirt clings.
I consider her thighs to be too thick.
High heels click.
Nevertheless, I watch her walk away.
The thumb and index finger
of one hand commence
to rub together like the legs of a cicada.
She has rhythm.
Thoughts buzz from ear to ear.
My mind is as sticky as flypaper.
Dawn.
Night sounds of slumber
A few owls hooted their last nightly call,
And cicadas ended their rhythmic, high-pitched whine
In obedience to the rising of the warm sun rays.
The buzzing bees commence their flight,
Flitting from flower to flower, sucking nectar.
The zinnias sway in the light breeze
And mingle with butterflies, so elegant and bright.
Light and soft I hear the flutter of the old oak trees,
As they dance in the rhythm of the growing day.
While from afar the purple mountains
Shed their cascades down into a clear lake.
And as time moves on, I hear the monotonous toll
Of an almost bell urging the handful faithful to praise,
Singing softly some of their favorite psalms.
From the silent forests clouds became overcast,
Drops of rain began to fall. I hurried to my shed,
And simply admired the rain and its pleasant drops.
How sweet were the rhythms of the raindrops.
Pleasure and peace spread all around.
Here, I pray, is a sonnet he may have written upon his passing on, ironically, his 52nd birthday, April 23rd 1616...
The Bard Bequeaths
'Twas two and fifty years of mortal worth,
This twenty third of April owned thy fate.
Thy soul commence and hence departs this earth
In midst of spring as summer's passions wait.
Those passions drip from quill like dagger's tears,
The blood of inspiration spake and writ,
Like life itself, upon the stage appears
Until, at last, a poison potion sipped.
Though ne'er a day begets where peace doth dwell
There, hidden in the chaos is reward.
Though, like the Queen of Scots, there was no knell,
Thou tarry not, before the henchman's sword.
Mine heart doth pray that thou hath left behind,
Conception's want that cannot be confined.
Pen in hand,
Delicate stationery on the desk,
Covered with roses—
Pink, yellow, and white,
Reserved for a special delivery.
With a trembling hand,
I pen:
My Dearest,
Dearest,
Dear.
Time waits for no one as I glance at the clock.
The day turns to night,
As the shadows from the light
Cast a shimmering glow
On the letter started long ago.
I pick up the single page,
Feel the subtle smooth grain
In between my fingers,
Wondering
If my words can do it honour.
How do I commence,
Spilling
My most secret thoughts
To a memory now living
In pictures on the walls, on small tables,
And even smiling down on me
From the shelf in the desk?
I pick up the pen again:
My Dearest One,
Time is near.
Save me a spot,
A most glorious seat
By your side.
Sincerely,
Love, Mom.
Sealed with a kiss,
Addressed to Heaven.
Cooler breezes give us relief from the stifling heat,
A signal autumn is coming, and summer is in full retreat.
Leaves on the trees turn yellow, orange, red and brown,
As the days grow shorter, they eventually find their way to the ground.
As temperatures continue to cool, animals prepare for the cold months ahead,
Birds, reptiles, and mammals make ready for longer nights and shorter days instead.
Diminished daylight triggers an internal clock,
Signaling waterfowl to fly south, virtually non-stop.
Monarch butterflies commence migrating to their winter home,
Flying thousands of miles, their wings beating in cadence to an internal metronome.
As days pass, daylight shrinks and nighttime expands,
Driven by the earth’s voyage around the sun as we have come to understand.
As the outdoor world starts changing, all plants and animals adjust,
Preparing for the formidable winter ahead is a necessity, a must.
Plants start dropping seeds while animals gather food stores - their pre-winter haul,
It’s that time of year again, a time we call Fall.
the inhibitions fade
a slow, deliberate ritual
some beautiful
mostly terrifying
the glass, a chalice
cradles the forbidden
each drop, a fiery kiss
flowing when the world tilts
diving into the velvet nectar
foreknown implosion
indulgence ignites
amber tides cascade
over softened edges
an eager palate
laughter bubbles up
a joyous release
rhythmic intoxication
and the world spins
kaleidoscopes of color
unconsidered judgements
a hazy fog settles
self spite to commence
unrestrained truths
hidden beneath the surface
spew candidly in chaos
a marionette dancing
self strung schemer
with every clink
memories
brimming with stories untold,
fragmented like shattered glass
thousands of jagged shards
stained plentiful
disappointment
a lingering ache
bitter emptiness
the cruel hand of reality
Subdues and suffocates
disillusioned symphonies
of joy
shackles to sobriety
Believe it or not, they will stick it to you first.
For them, it's light work 'cause they don't have to rehearse.
With so much favorable DNA and proximity,
There is always a classroom nearby for a quick study.
Close! Closer than you think and closer than most
A slow demise can commence at a holiday toast.
Pencils and pads are always handy for the collection of intel.
So be careful about what you reveal or what you tell.
It's sad. Yes, I know. It's very sad, but your challenges or stumbles make them so glad.
The face of schadenfreude, they welcome
A big smile adorns their face whenever there is bedlam.
Glad and happy to see you're not fulfilling your destiny.
This is why they're constantly playing with your energy.
So, words to the wise. Please beware of some kinfolk.
They may look and talk like you, but it is your failure they want to coax.
Please rate 1-10
(1 Santa would be proud or
10 A coal in your stocking!)
A white Christmas in Chicagee don't make no sense
Bout time we skeedaddle, let good times commence
So where to go, my darlin' Maggie and me
As we swig down our egg nog and pack our tree?
The lil' miss and I'll be spendin' this Christmas
Way down yonder on the Panama Isthmus
There's a honky-tonk there on the ol' canal
Tequilla will be flowin' for me and my gal
A puzzled fold on a summit stands as though deserted.
Though some seem cool, others look, by uncertainties, girted
Is the shepherd careless or struggling with cares of his own?
Staff and sandals are unseen. None of his features are known.
Grass seems grazed. No streams are found. Some are tired. Some suffer thirst.
With a scare of wolves in sheepskins, the valley seems cursed.
If their herdsman has no courage, why should he take them here?
If he has taken them here to take them home, should he fear?
We're on our own; their inner selves said, Let's hold together.
Times, good or bad, might change. Should we not face every weather?
Grazing horizons are endless. Rivers brim full. Streams flow.
Our hope against hopelessness, like gems among stones, must glow.
Why are some sheep still hiding and resting in lethargy?
Have they, as time passed, lost their imperative energy?
Shouldn't those who decide to commence their pilgrimage wait?
Could they afford to leave their comrades to their mortal fate...?
All through the forest
A holiday to commence in marvelous
It’s the Christmas trees stance
They will soon dance
A Christmas Carols are Sang
Togetherness being among
The music tempo is circulated up
Dazzle Christmas lights
All shining brightly at night
The Christmas trees are now in formation
It is a lovely creation
All this is happening outdoors
Snow begins to fall
What a way to start the holiday for all
Imagine and dream
The Christmas Trees are all in assembly
Dancing around each other
In distance of glitter is a frozen stream
The Christmas Trees are dancing on cue
They are giving the Christmas preview
Talent at its best
Dazzle of life
The start of Christmas has turned out nice.
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