week 672 ~ a time to think about

a time to think about
how the world spins today
a time to blot dreams out

a time to cry to shout
hard to refrain they say
a time to think about

this mess but my hideout
beckons don’t go that way
a time to blot dreams out

easier to hide from doubt
when the future’s in play
a time to think about

nothing a news blackout
would work hold facts at bay
a time to blot dreams out

I am too small to rout
disaster push away
a time to think about
a time to blot dreams out

week 665 ~ time stops so we move on

time stops so we move on
separately ahead
accounts now overdrawn

sleepy dreams on the lawn
should be a sign instead
time stops so we move on

but where can it have gone
unheeded or misread
accounts now overdrawn

the mist of quiet dawn
o’er takes us still in bed
time stops so we move on

conclusions have been drawn
worrying a loose thread
accounts now overdrawn

desperation’s upon
us have we been misled
time stops so we move on
accounts now overdrawn

week 644 ~ bright lights close her eyes

bright lights close her eyes
squint out at the world
I’m ok she lies

spring from winter flies
windy night unfurled
bright lights close her eyes

head down she still tries
dodging troubles hurled
I’m ok she lies

still her answer buys
time through dangers swirled
bright lights close her eyes

though she sometimes cries
in dread’s cocoon curled
I’m ok she lies

snow melts pavement dries
questions answers twirled
bright lights close her eyes
I’m ok she lies

week 629 ~ as the seasons are all a kerfuffle

as the seasons are all a kerfuffle
we become tourists in our own backyards
umbrella drinks in November muffle
election confusion sending postcards
back to summer waiting for early snow
we keep gloves sneakers umbrellas ready
when the future says maybe where should we go
stark changes leave us bewildered heady
fumes of too late rend us dizzy stalled here
asking the path forward what we can do
in the face of disaster when we all fear
regretting decisions please tell us who
knows how this will all work out in the end
will nature undone still have time to mend

week 624 ~ the river of time

the river of time
flows slowly at first
its reason has rhyme
the river of time
takes everything mine
what’s best and what’s worst
the river of time
flows slowly at first

week 607 ~ there is a sliver of time

there is a sliver of time
to breathe before pain sets in
to watch the blue sky clouds climb
there is a sliver of time
to dream dreams no longer mine
in the stillness forgotten
there is a sliver of time
to breathe before the pain sets in

week 585 ~ in a new year a new decade

in a new year a new decade
what awaits will we be ready
to take it on to stand steady
as our vision begins to fade
leaves us hesitant plans unmade
still gather on the horizon
linger though currently undone
we prop them up with brave pizzazz
and hopeful cross our fingers as
time walks toward the setting sun

week 580 ~ suspending disbelief

suspending disbelief
might be the only way
time is a skillful thief
suspending disbelief
can sometimes bring relief
from debts too steep to pay
suspending disbelief
might be the only way

week 579 ~ wanting to stop time

wanting to stop time
suspend the future
like a nursery rhyme

or scene of a crime
a misplaced suture
wanting to stop time

or at least to climb
out of false nurture
like a nursery rhyme

walking a thin line
trying to endure
wanting to stop time

promising sublime
results rendered pure
like a nursery rhyme

through encroaching grime
though there’s no real cure
wanting to stop time
like a nursery rhyme

week 551 ~ a small fragment of hope though unbidden

a small fragment of hope though unbidden
lingers near the corner of my vision
not leading forward for truth still hidden
paints a future unknown how can I shun
the light imaginary though it may
be at this moment still waiting to shine
to illuminate the dream that won’t say
its name not yet the one that could be mine
or could remain stillborn in this climate
of uncertain weather harsh refusals
pound like driving rain I try to time it
to break for the door but life bamboozles
me at every turn flaunting its disguise
I teeter perplexed wishing to be wise