Tag Archives: Poem about life

Summer’s Rhythm

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Fiery days of outdoor fun

People always on the run

Ice cold drinks relieve the thirst

Swimmers race to come in first

Birds soar high on currents strong

Moms hover yet kids do wrong

Free to jump like squirrels brown

Scream and run all over town

Sleep until sun’s high in the sky

Teens do nothing as days fly by

Dads pray for first day of school

Think their lives will be so cool

Summer’s fun comes to an end

Shopping trips: money to spend

 Mind recalls memories sweet

Hordes of children on the street

Must put summer’s toys away

Shortened  time for kids to play

People once had time to run

Fiery days of outdoor fun

Sunny, Summer Days

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Sunny summer days

Drift along

Taking my lazy ways

Across river deep and wide

Burst-of-color leaves

Silently fall

Calling my soul to grieve

For things unfinished

Speckled blue skies

Fill with migrating birds

Loudly, their cries

Call, inviting me along

I yearn to travel

To see family far away

Concerns, worries unravel

Twisting around my fingers

Earth-bound am I

As winter approaches

Eager eyes look to the sky

Seeking freedom

To Children

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children at play

laugh all the day

rejoice in life

without much strife

wide-eyes surprise

springs from their eyes

dancing, singing

joking, laughing

bubbling with joy

each girl and boy

create the earth

from their own birth

to something new

mystical brew

nary a thought

of something bought

giggling, shouting

each believing

laugh all the day

children at play

A Glance Outside

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From my window

I see children at play

Two tiny boys

Brothers

Bouncing a seemingly large basketball

With skills beyond their sizes

Three girls, maybe eight or nine,

Ride matching pink bikes

Around and around

Weaving in and out of driveways

Between parked cars

Smiling and giggling loudly

A young teen washes his old car

Rubs hard at the rust spots

On the bumper

As if, by that simple act,

He could remove the damages

Of time

One of my neighbors turns on

His electric lawnmower

And all sound is obliterated

obnoxious reverberations

erase the pleasantries

of the summer day

calling me back to

my workday world

I miss the exuberance of children,

The intensity of the teenager,

And the innocent belief in a world

Becalmed in a storm of noise.

Winds of Time

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winds blow me away

to a land where

peace prospers

respect rules

equality exists

carry me far, far from here

to someplace new

wonders wait

marvels multiply

magic mystifies

above the blossoming clouds

freer than feathery friends

bouncing bravely

viewing vistas

amazingly awed

allow me to soar on breezes

free-wheelin’

experience ecstasy

senses stretched

eyes enlightened

I await the revelation

the days of glory revealed

whispery winds

far-flung journeys

colossal clouds

wonders whisper

awe-struck ageless

eyes envision

a land where

winds will blow me away

Summertime

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I’m feeling lazy

Nothing inspires me,

nothing motivates me

to run and jump and play

like when a child

on a hot Ohio day

To be that young again

when the joys of a cold

sprinkler far outweighs

the best new-bought toy

or movie at the theater

Running free as the breeze

half-clothed

hair dripping with sweat

rivulets pouring down

my suntanned face

and I don’t care, for

I’m having the time of my life

Give me an ice-cold glass

of water, sparkling clear

with a wedge of lemon

precariously perched on the edge

and I’m happy these days

Sit me in front of a fan turned

on high.  Mine and mine alone.

Toss me a bowl of low-fat ice cream

and I’ll scream for joy

Throw on some blueberries and

I’m yours for life

The simple pleasures of life

become simpler as we age

Give me free time to read,

write, and cuddle with my cats

and I’m in pure ecstasy.

Ah, there’s nothing like

summertime

To Children

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children at play

laugh all the day

rejoice in life

without much strife

wide-eyes surprise

springs from their eyes

dancing, singing

joking, laughing

bubbling with joy

each girl and boy

create the earth

from their own birth

to something new

mystical brew

nary a thought

of something bought

giggling, shouting

each believing

laugh all the day

children at play

School Days

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Five days a week, the same old thing.

Principal yells and school bells ring.

Girls in skimpy clothes strut on by

Baggy-jeaned boys give them the eye.

Lockers get jammed and locks freeze shut.

Each excuse begins with a “but”

Pencils break and pens oft run dry

Janitors shake their heads and cry

Teachers, though, withstand the onslaught

Simply doing what they’ve been taught.

Stand tall at the front of the room,

Never touch: for it seals one’s doom.

Speak clearly, with strong conviction.

Precise words in perfect diction.

Hands at bay, despite temptation

To spank brats into submission.

Count the minutes until relief.

Run to the john; answer the chief.

Call parents to give the bad news

Knowing that you will face abuse.

Teachers teach, despite suffering

Five days a week the same old thing.

Sepia World

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Caught in a dark, sepia-toned world,

A desperate child cries in the night

Yearning for a mother’s love unfurled

Strong enough to scare away the fright

Hiding in corners to block out the fears

The abandoned child screams silently

Not bothering to wipe away the tears

He clings to dreams with such certainty

That reality flies far away

Swept up in a swirling gust of wind

The child’s home, a staircase of decay

The child’s heart, believing to the end

Mother, are you ever coming back?

I am so hungry, cold, and weak, that

It is hard to breathe.  Your love, I lack.

You left me nothing: not coat, gloves, or hat.

His cries float into the starless night

Reaching no friendly heart.  He gives up.

No more do the ravages of night

Disturb the boy.  Empty is his cup.

Salvation

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Witness

As I stumble my way

Toward everlasting salvation

Tripping over my faults

I search for the golden path,

Elusive, as always.

Sometimes the path lies ahead

Shining like the sun

With God at the head

Beckoning me home

I feel His impact

A rosy glow inside

I rejoice

Through my own admission

The patch fills with holes,

Boulders that turn into mountains

Seemingly insurmountable

With my feeble

Human skills

I reach for God.

He’s there, but distant

Or so I think

My march continues,

One day after another

Always, always reaching

For His hands

For home

For my heavenly reward

Salvation

Witness