Meadows blossoming,
with grasses, summer flowers,
and my hay-fever.
We only live once,
is wrong, we only die once,
we live every day.
The light on the leaves,
creates a pattern of light,
in this leafy place.

As complex as simple is.
Meadows blossoming,
with grasses, summer flowers,
and my hay-fever.
We only live once,
is wrong, we only die once,
we live every day.
The light on the leaves,
creates a pattern of light,
in this leafy place.
A hurdie gurdie,
and I’m a little birdie,
Is what Blackbird said.
I wonder sometimes,
at nature in its glory,
and the moon at night.
Work is not the end,
for there are much better things,
we can be doing.
Afternoon shadows,
lighting a pattern on shades;
it feels like summer.
The sun shines warmly,
and a breeze is kissing you,
like some fine romance.
I sigh with relief,
it’s done and I rest my pen,
but just for a while.
No tennis today,
and shopping early today,
with good parking place.
There was a detour,
that took me down, brought me back,
to where I once was.
My ankle’s better,
I fell down and twisted it,
Friday afternoon.
The day ‘s really here,
one that was sometimes a fear,
for what we must do.
It is Friday though,
and feeling good is for sure,
and we do our best.
When it’s done, it’s done,
and then there’s an emptiness,
that descends to slow.
June’s finally here,
and there is a change of air,
and much more sunshine.
It is Thursday though,
and there is a lag somewhere,
generally for me.
I fold the papers,
as neatly as I can do,
then tuck them away.
Wednesday again,
and how many have I had,
a few thousand now.
I need to run more,
though I find it a real bore,
and leaves me breathless.
Preparation start,
for the big day on Friday,
but it’s feeling right.
The sun warms the room,
it’s afternoon and lazy,
the air is static.
A mug of tea waits,
like it has been here before,
and knows what’s coming.
May is almost gone,
and warm June will soon be here,
with its longer days.
It’s caught in the net,
and snared in the trap, I see,
caught and trapped not free.
What’s an assumption,
Ass you me, once I was told,
but it’s is a risk.
With weariness now,
I scribble random writings,
in an old notebook.
What is on my mind,
I really wonder sometimes,
and it really blank.
Understand the rules,
of any game that you play,
though they may change them.
I am well behind,
and lacking daily with it,
the challenge ahead..