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Friday, May 27, 2016

Wistful - a day on the beach

Spring seems to have glossed over
Of seasons, I have lost track
Missing is the clichéd may shower
While for the beach, today I pack
 
Sand under my feet, I can bear
Scorching nights will appear
I make it my mission to care
For a sense of disarray brings fear
 
Itching for the pleasant tropics
Willing to meander the trudge
A backyard destination, nothing exotic
In peaceful serenity, to indulge
 
Bells and whistles don’t matter
If only I could turn off my thoughts
On the sand, I stay splattered
Sans the glamor and the gloss
 
Forever the workhorse, that’s me
Harried life, a price that I pay
I look forward to a day by the sea
On this calm and gorgeous day.
 
 
 
 






 
 

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

I wait in hope

Giddy I am in anticipation
Of the enchanting day’s arrival
The joy I could not contain
For my love for him, was primal
 
Fanatical, in my preparations
I buzz around being busy
Every little bit, perfect for him
I drive myself into a frenzy
 
One thing makes it all worth
His look of love, with a yelp of delight
My heart swells in contentment
Everything else feels just trite.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Valued veneer

Cherished life I lead
Seemingly, from outside
Strong in the face of
It; adversity I scoff
 
I babble incessantly
Within my own entity
Prized be damned
Upright, I barely stand
 
The façade stays subtle
Through motions as I muddle
This life, I have conned
Survival I have spawned

El Yunque

 
Like a speck of dust,
On my messy table
I stand in awe at
The foothills of the mount
 
The enormity strikes
Spell bound, I remain
Multitudes of magnitude
I try to envision
 
Gentle giants they are
Staying put in peace
Letting life flourish
Standing tall, untouched
 
Refreshed and renewed
I head back home
The moment was the end
the beginning and all in between
 

Friday, May 6, 2016

A half-full realist

 
 
Laying under the stars,
A romantic notion,
While I explore and pursue
Alas, not come to fruition
 
That grass holds bugs,
Comes to mind
How about bears?
Chasing my behind
 
It could rain and pour
While I scramble for shelter
Or in summer nights
In torturous heat swelter
 
Seemingly is about the art of
In life, slowing down
But the pragmatic in me
Dismisses it with a frown