As he crafts his world he stops
To add just a few drops
Of color to his otherwise gray
And desolate landscape. A ray
Of sunshine here, a dash
Of forest that seems to crash
Into the dark hues of the sky.
He adds stars that twinkle in his eye
And places the moon in the center
Of the night. Then the crickets enter
The peaceful scene, softly humming a tune
Creating harmony with the moon.
The bright reds, greens, yellows, and blues
Are colored in, which is what truly glues
His masterpiece together, but it
Isn’t complete without a little bit
Of chaos that comes from people.

Oh how I’d love to be,
You protector and shield bearer
Not to mention, just me.

I’ll stay by your side for you to call
Whether we fight or not
Whenever you fall.

Please don’t push me away
I need you in my life
But I’ve lost my day.

My chance at you is gone
And now all I can do is just
Watch your back as you pass on.

I can’t help but utter a curse
Or two, after the strap of my purse
Breaks and my things begin to roll
On the floor. Or my cereal bowl
Decides that it wants to fly
Away from the counter and die.
When my computer shuts down
And my work doesn’t save, I frown
And want my laptop to feel my pain
Cuz I don’t want to type it again.
When I trip over air, but I swear
Up and down that there was something there.
When I stub my toe on something
And hop up and down yelping.

It’s the little things in life
That tend to cause so much strife.

It was once an empty piece
Of latex, small and not yet obese.
But you breathed in your life, your magic
Until it didn’t look tragic.
And then you released it, let it roam
The great blue skies above our home.
It caught the wind and soared higher
Until we lost it in the sapphire
Sky above the city. But we still
Watched the heavens, remembering the flight,
Holding hands, forgetting the last fight.

This little guy is pretty chill
He lives on top an icy hill.
He can go sledding on his belly
Without turning into jelly
After he crashes and smashes
Into igloos or leaves gashes
In some poor eskimo’s ice
Sculpture that used to be very nice.

He can have epic snowball fights
When the polar bears don’t bites
And the seals decide to join in
On the fun and they all grin
With excitement and wonder.
He can also go under
Water and swim with the whales
Or slide down their massive tails

In short, for that is what a penguin
Truly is, not to mention
Cute, pudgy, and the coolest
Animal that lives life to the fullest

When the game is played out
And the pieces have fallen short
And none can stand the next bout,
Their mission they don’t abort.
They stand on shaky legs
Even if they get knocked down some pegs.
Against the odds that no one
Says they can surpass, they don’t run.
For these are the heroes of the ages,
Real men and women, not sages
Or superstars. Just the average Joe
That does all they can to go
On without any fuel left in the tank.

The record spins and turns as it goes
Through the tracks and tiny rows
Offering up a quaint little tune
When the mood’s just right and the moon
Is high in the sky called life,
And a requiem in times of strife.
Before all that, though, came
The catchy pop tunes that seemed tame
But evolved into something different and new
That came from a movie or two.

In the reckless days of old
When we didn’t do what we were told
Hard metal and rap filled our heads
Blocking out all other sounds like leads.
But the tracks mellow out with time
Allowing smooth jazz with a bit of rhyme
To occupy the space beyond the record.