To restore the years
the locust have eaten
You must honestly review
time weathered and beaten
Where have you been
trying to know who you are?
It’s not only the world
that wouldn’t let you be you
You may not know it
but, you did it too
Nodding yes to those
who were planning from the very start

To waste the precious you

As I ride into work
I catch myself dreaming
of a nice, long nap
before a day yet begun
My bed is the grass
of a cool, green meadow
draped in the light
of a warm, Autumn sun

Let there be only
loving words spoken
so another harsh cycle
be beautifully broken
To free a generation
from a circle of pain
that it may soon wash off
in a cool cleansing rain
of tears so long sought after

It may be harsh
It may be cruel
To sit before
a bowl of gruel
But, please do not
complain of it
It could be worse
It could be sh—

He walked the hill into the evening
until he reached the top
The moon was serenading him
so he took the time to stop
to look upon a lonesome tree
that had not been there before
Neath the light
of a starry night
like the painting
he so adored
He whispered a tiny heartfelt prayer
for those in town below
that had likely lived their lives
never having seen the show

Your indecision
comes with the clue
that your head is telling
your heart what to do

It’s too hot
to lie in the shade
Sit in front of a fan
or drink lemonade
It’s too hot
for suntan lotion
Take a dip in a pool
or jump in the ocean
It’s so hot
that my body is straining
to keep up with my shadow
and even it is complaining