Category: Just for the moment

Sweet sunlight’s shining,
and falling warmly this day,
in a pleasant way.

So two wood burners,
and an oven, those poor trees,
if we all did this.

Two thing define us,
our patience when we’ve nothing;
attitude when rich.

Spotify, one play,
I’m happy because it’s one,
and that’s all it takes.

Scenes are unfolding,
revealing the characters,
and nameless, they act.

I found some old tunes,
and they are rocking real good;
why’s it been so long.

One page at a time,
I’m reading them through each one,
and still updating.

Like a stream flowing,
the thoughts keep flooding my mind,
with stories growing.

The notes on my notes,
revealing a new freshness,
that can’t be ignored.

To me eight is late,
and that’s what I got today,
and it did feel good.

Some time in the gym,
and cut the grass, went shopping,
and now I’m writing.

I’m glad it’s Friday,
my to do list is growing,
and work’s in the way.

What does success mean,
not just a goal, there is more,
a process of change.

I’m changing myself,
just a little at a time,
you’d hardly notice.

Music’s a passion,
that wraps itself around you,
and seduces you.

The coffee mug’s stained,
and brown streaks adorn its sides,
the same mug today.

In a writing fix?
Listen to your broccoli,
and it will tell you.

Mist rolled in today,
and the trees faded away,
and there was stillness.

I do like to write,
and sometimes I will read it,
but not too often.

The wind blowing free,
and the breathe you’ve just taken,
is a gift to you.

I wrote a poem,
it told me of a lost love,
and the scars I bear.

It is times like these,
the here, the now and today,
when you find you write.

The trees changing hues,
with leaves yellow, green and brown,
and an autumn breeze.

Do not be afraid,
to start all over again,
you may like it more.

She is sat reading,
and the sun behind her sets,
and she feels its warmth.

My train was cancelled,
and I waited half an hour,
sat on the platform.

Bright autumn sunshine,
can be very beautiful,
in cold azure skies.

It can feel futile,
with those poems incomplete,
but try merging them.

My cup’s not half full,
it is completely empty,
and time for some tea.

Resting on the banks,
and the stream that trickles by,
catches the sunlight.

He’s sits nodding off,
drifting to a place aloft,
where dreams cloud his mind.

Do not wait to start,
begin to write something now,
a line or two works.

Distractions will come,
ignore some, enjoy others,
but make time to write.