to stay tucked up and warm in bed
to dream on and wonder
where I am being led
or to rise up into another day,

hmm,
I'll throw the dice,
ugh a three, a two,
don't like those
I'll throw the dice twice,

I need a double six
threw a double one,
where the hell are my socks
wonder where they've gone?

Sleep is just a washing machine
it turns your world around
and rinses you clean,

I am awake
awoke
had my coffee
rolled a smoke
spoke to my Lady
She said,
not likely,
still only Monday
and I'm moving along.

the lockdown, or are you shut out,
put out by the landlords who believe
that they are the gentry?

vacant possession,
the devil doesn't want me,
I am empty,
possessed by a vacancy.

Oh jeez, a bit gloomy for a Thursday
and not the way I imagined it to be,
but two cups of 'joe' and I'll be buzzin'
must go
and make some.

I do believe
I do
because what would this life be
without a fairy or two?

I'll tell you,
it would be drab and dull,
but with fairies like Tinkerbell
life is full of magic

and yet
I've yet to see the fairy queen
except in
Shakespeare's
a midsummer night's dream
but does that count?

Pick a day
any day.

Thursday and time marches to its own tune,
and
even if the Moon and I, are old friends
the music will stop when time ends.

The pick is just a trick
to make you settle in
and what you pick you'll lose
,
choose carefully
tread warily,
the sinking sands
have many hands to play,
did you pick a day?

I saw the angel in the marble,
and carved until I set him free.

I picked up my pencil
And sat down to write
I had nothing to say, for
I’m not very bright.

But that didn’t stop me
I needed a Pome
I needed to scribble
A life-changing tome.

I sweated a little.
I crossed out a lot.
I hoped it was brilliant.
I sensed it was not.

I read the New Yorker
Their poems are obscure
I may write only drivel
But my meaning is clear.

So now I am finished.
I’ll read it and you
Then go get a pencil-
Be a famed poet too.
           ljm