The pile is ever ready
whatever type of music we dig...a ditty,
old songs, contemporary...all in a jiffy,
instruments will be playing
words, vocalizing all feelings
maybe, a song of calm
coming before, or after the storm...
.....
Notes hover above the piled 45s
look closely...find your desired jive,
let's find our favorite tunes
and take turns in  dropping coins,
record is pulled out...shortly, our song will play
hold disruptive elements at bay
because..you and i, we're gonna sway
as a full moon....rises from the bay
.....
allow our feelings to speak
while we're cheek to cheek,
as much as we want, we may croon,
after we dance, maybe we'll swoon
the world is ours...we'll be alright
"there'll be...no more lonely nights!"
.....

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    September 4, 2017

Polish a coin until it shines
A coin it still remains

Scratch the surface, smash the matter on the tracks
And yet the etching still ingrained  

Flattened to the edge of flat
So the world around remains

As a coin which flips is falling fast
With fate less interchanged

No bounce determines forward path
Which wasn't first ordained

Mere steadfast midst matters of the past
For we all in life break change

I'm stuck in a loop.

Endless similarity between days after days
Not ever seeing a glimpse of change.
Life itself is a coin
going down a spiral wishing well.

Round and round; accelerating back to it's former position over and over again
inching forward in time.

Until it may meet the end.
Yet... Something's different now.
My coin has escaped the well.
How has it eluded the innevitable?
Something must be wrong.

What's happening?

Someone sits next to me now.
I don't know them. But I like change.
Change is good, I think.
Who is this person?
Not sure I want to know.
Or do I?
She seems interesting, yet I know not should I introduce myself.

The coin rolls across the floor.

Someone sits next to me still.
I love her so much.
I've loved before... Or so I thought.
An unfathomable amount of longing fills me.
All the time I wish to be near her.

The coin stops.

Her spark gives me light.
I feel it burning.
Is this good?

Wait.
There's another coin next to mine now.
I reach for my own
When I brush someone else's hand.
A nervous smile sits on their face.
She points to something
Another coin well on the other side of the room.

I'm here now.
She's in my arms.
She reaches up to my chest
I look down at her loving eyes
She puts a coin in my pocket.

Stashing them everywhere
I store such coins to pay away the could've beens
To keep my bones and alabaster skin covered until the rainy day need not appear

At which time I can and will, take you by the hand
And show you either the former Winding Way, or create anew
By pulling coins out of the thin air, like a magic man

For this is how I make my way into the world of words