Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Springtime rain pays no attention
To everything that might get wet.
Yes, it stresses comprehension.
Springtime rain pays no attention
Rain creates a new dimension
And gets most everyone upset.
Springtime rain pays no attention
To everything that might get wet.
ljm
Just wanted to see if I could do it  Guess I can.  But it was work, not fun.
We are depleting our planet little by little while taking what we need
perhaps this is the time to give back to Mother Earth and plant a seed
Imagine yourself in the forest picking chanterelles, like times of old
Wild animals running free, deer panting by the river with eyes of gold
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out
Giant trees with leafy arms that encircle you with love and breeze
they talk to you in whispers, about the magical ignite of precious soil
Best part of you is now immersed inside this magical embroil
you are part of the whole, part of everything that breathes
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
Place your back against the trunk of a tree and allow the energy to enter
Up in the heavens the angels are sending you rays of golden sun
Your creator is re-shaping you like a soft pliable piece of clay
he wants you back tot he original shape of the creature you once were
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
You own blessed hands, a blessed heart and a capable body that works
give thanks for the gift of living, give thanks to Mother Earth
and the One who has given you life, you are loved beyond all measure.
Hollow days and painful nights
In the itching sweat of illness.
Photos of another life
In sunlit fields of memory
Are glued to scrapbook pages
And the book locked in the cupboard.
Broken teacup on the floor
Dropped or thrown - who knows.
The Ferris Wheel no longer turns
And the Hurdy Gurdy has gone silent.
Effort does not pay the rent
That ratchets ever upward.
Blood and tears are valueless
And the race is almost over.
         ljm
One of those days.
I’ve learned to live without you
More and more each day.
I try to put a poem up
But get a Bad Gateway.

When at last I get on site
My write goes straight to ‘draft’.
Trying to get it on my page
Takes every ounce of craft.

Is it even worth my time
When everything’s a struggle.
When I can’t post the words I pen
I feel just like a Muggle.

Other places on the net
Will post the things I write
So I just may go over there
And tell Hello, Goodnight.
       ljm
Getting a little fed up.  Posting is such a grind it takes all the fun out t of it.
There are those who love me
But not with a burning flame.
There are a few who make a frown
At the mention of my name.

There are those who think I’m God -
That I can walk on water
But when you tally up those votes
You can’t add in my daughter.

She thinks that I am toxic
And that I ruined her life.
The disdain that she has for me
Is sharper than a knife.

She has no joy to share with me,
Her sadness… hers alone.
I have no access to her thoughts
Her attitudes remain unknown.

She offers me the minimum
Of contact and of discourse
She cannot wait to get away
Runs faster than a race horse.

Toting up the fans who rave
The few who walk away
There’s only one that really counts
And she’s a “no” today.
ljm
I don’t think anyone will miss me
The one who should cry the most
Will feel relieved of burdensome love
That came from genetics and little else.

The other one will follow soon
Unable to survive the grief
And find a way to carry one
Without the recipes for life.

Who will remember New Years day
To send a Birthday greeting skyward
Or will it be overlooked again
Lost in last nights partying.

Who will touch the things I loved
And wonder who once owned them,
Purchased at a reduced rate
From One-800 merchants

Who will trim the weeds that grow
Across the stone I helped design.
The power mowers of Valhalla
Will caress me once a week.

My words will be stacked in a closet
Or perhaps into a bin.
No one will ever see or read them
Only God will know their lines.

My candle’s flame will flicker once
And with the sundown disappear.
ljm
Feeling a little blue today. I'll be better tomorrow.
If only I could just forget
The woman I once was
Maybe I’d be happy with
The woman I am now.

If maybe I could just forget
How much I could do then
Perhaps I could accept how
Much of it I can’t do now.
ljm
There used to be no limits.
I have tried for 3 days now to post this.  What's with HP?
Next page