We’ll hitchhike to mars
on a rocket not a car,
so say your au revoirs.

We’ll steer towards Polaris, the north star
right through the center of the milky-way-bar.
See, the universe is dark and chocolatey.

Stars that glitter like multi-faceted gems,
are just shiny, yellow, peanut M&Ms,
take a handful, if you’d like, they’re free.

We’ll dodge the silhouetted moon,
which is made of enough coconut macaroon,
to make a French confectioner swoon.

As we go streaking, like a comet’s tail,
drag a finger through Saturn’s rings as well,
those are made of marshmallow.

We’ll  pass nebulae made of cotton-kandi,
and here’s a fact Einstein would have found handy,
the speed of light doesn’t apply to candy.
.
.
Ramble on by Toni Jevicky

If all politicians and leaders were
women,
There would be peace,
No war,
Only kitty parties,
And neighbouring countries jealous of
each other.
23/6/2025

I believe I have reached a point
of creative decline. Been on HP
since 2013. Close to 350 poems.
I may have thought and said
about all I have to offer.

Hard to come up with any real
original worthy material, the
old well might have run dry.
Or maybe my brain is growing
addled. That happens in our 80s.

In idle times I will still look in
on you all. I have enjoyed my
time here and made some fine
and talented writer and poet
friends. Thank you.

Adieu good and gentle people.

The coastal winds set all our
orchard tree leaves dancing,
vibrating like music in the air.
That same clean breeze on my
face generates a smile, while
offering the slight scent of the
oceans salty splendor.

In my mind in color, behind closed
eyes I can clearly see my beach, the
waves, sand, rocks, all the winged
creatures soaring and wind floating
on the westerly air currents. I could
even hear their calls to each other,
and the muted laughter of human
children at play. The sight of people's
dogs free running the beach and
cavorting in the shallow surf.

An hour and a half drive each way,
taken many times over most of my
lifetime, seeking that view and being
rewarded by it. Familiar as the faces
of my beloved now grown children
and nearly as comforting to gaze upon.

Yes, I could make the drive, but even
that gets harder these days, as most
everything does. But why drive it,
when all I need do is close my eyes,
point my nose up into the breeze and
embrace that beach in my still vivid
mind's eye, while these technicolor
memories last, before they all fade
to black.

You left,

but love stayed,

and so did pain.

The more it hurts

The more you realize

The depth of your own love.