Archive for January, 2013
Sisters, Traditions Passed Down
Sisters, there were three, as close as can be
Sisters, rotate responsibility.
Sisters, grow tired, too much work to do.
Sisters, tired, pass job to me and you.
Sisters, us young, work hard, try to fulfill
Sister’s mothers, the biding of their will.
Sisters, us two, will give it a go
Sisters, me and you, tired we now grow.
Sisters, daughters, it’s time to pass baton.
Sisters, and brothers, it’s how now is done.
Sisters, brothers, work together for the whole.
Sisters and brothers, family fun now goal.
Burden of Life
Carrying burden of life in bucket.
Spilled once, maybe twice, yet did not chuck it.
Friend found to help me carry loads heavy.
Able, at last, to hold bucket steady.
Added whims and dreams, reinforced with fun,
Stirred in hope and love, then ‘fore we were done
Started a family. Then pail sprung a leak.
Bucket’s a burden, remedy must seek.
Found fun had leaked out, but love still survived
Patched hole in bucket, love for life revived.
Carrying burden of life in bucket
Spilled once, maybe twice, still did not chuck it.
I know a boy named Barnaby.
A fashion icon wannabe.
His pants are baggy.
Below butt saggy.
A trendsetter for all to see.
On a stroll, hoping all to glance.
Wide legged walking, to hold up pants.
They dropped to his knees,
Result of a sneeze.
Next time give suspenders a chance.
I was driving in the city on Saturday evening when I spotted a fellow wearing his pants belted below his butt. Yes, I said belted. Why, when he has to walk wide legged to keep his pants from falling down, would he wear a belt?
Change in governance now upon us.
Traversing these times, like by bus.
Pay the fare, in form of taxes
Bus drives on as one relaxes.
Trust driver takes you home safely.
Take a nap, settle in snuggly.
Bus driver surely knows the route.
Knows your stop and will holler out.
But wait, wake up! He passed your stop!
At destination, did not drop.
It is your fault that you are late
Must watch the driver of your fate.
House is full,
just collecting dust.
On things there
that are not a must.
Ten knick knacks
lined along the shelf
“Where’re they from?”
I ask of myself.
Shoes, soles worn,
twenty five years old.
Lots of things
on to which I hold.
that this year will be
When I get
less cluttered. Junk free.