No joy is greater than playing with the children
It's then you stoop to be a child
And stop to be an adult.

You must choose to lose
When playing with them
Pretend you know little
About the game.

They win and you heartily clap
You lose yet wear a broad smile
You're almost their age when you play
Giggle and roll and laugh to make their day.

Suddenly you realise it's no pretense
You're truly a child in all its essence
There was always a little one in you
Happy carefree and without a worry.

Grab the rare chances to play with them
Change your mind, take a new name
Patient or doctor or thief or police
Whatever the game, your reward is bliss.

Dare the day
to raise the light
To dedicate
itself to the Sun's respite

To crush
the shadows
kidnapped
by night

To free the wounds
of fright or plìght

The sunny ray's raucous
crackling whips
Soon the darkness
will be flipped

To hear
the moans of
grinding time
The wheels spin on
as the engines whine

So does the day
dare the night ?
Yes it does
to the Sun's delight

Here he comes wearing bright colours
That say,
I'm getting in you're way

He doesn't take rejection easy
Try wafting away
In you're face
Instantly
Persistently

Gets his kicks this way
Try to make my excuses
Conversation brings
Subtle threat
Of a sting

At the speed of a
Golden eagle,
He'll hit you with
A needle

Compound eyes
Only see one view
Any other is
Out of view

To my relief
He sees something sweet,
Feet
Faster than wings
Off he buzzed.


Song - Blur, Charmless man

All great creative storytellers know,
As you do, Adams, Asimov, and Wells,
The time machine was built so long ago

Expression chassis, tonal power cells,
The primary engine, sending us with word,
As you do, Adams, Asimov, and Wells

The second engine, flashback, and a third
—portend, exhausts each piston-fired clue,
The primary engine, sending us with word

The epoch steering, future or review,
Remember back, or forward fantasy
Portend exhausts each piston-fired clue

Captain Imagine, Wingman Memory,
With engines run on image, tone, and phrase,
Remember back, or forward fantasy

Like Atwood, Pratchett, Liu, and Philip K,
All great creative storytellers know,
With engines run on image, tone, and phrase,  
The time machine was built so long ago

Walking past a window
I see a woman crying
Wondering about all the scenario's
That could have befallen her?
Boyfriend problems?
Financial situation?
Job stress?
Just having one of those days?

I do the only thing
I can
Send her positive thoughts
And carry on with my day

Kate finished chopping and   
Wiped a meaningless
Onion induced tear away
Carrying on with her day