He’s the average Joe
Who works hard each day,
Faithfully laboring
To earn him a pay.

He will ‘man’ the workforce
As best that he can.
Even back-breaking tasks
To meet the demand.

So, a regular Joe
Working nine to five—
Trying to make ends meet
Just to stay alive.

When you thought you’d heard it all
Something else comes along
To challenge then the psyche—
Robbing life of its song.

One very distraught couple,
A husband and his wife,
Were found in their vehicle.
They seemed to tire of life.

The car was set and idling.
From its window ran a hose—
Attached to the exhaust pipe,
Drawing the carbon close.

They drunk a last cup of wine,
Perhaps life’s final toast.
There, embracing each other,
Was the one they’d loved most.

The couple had prepped their home
For such—their final hour.
Fridge and freezer all cleared out.
All disconnect of power.

A note stated that their home
Should go to charity.
And asked that neighbors feed some cats
The couple had reprieved.
(Revised 2018.)

A frightened dog was stranded
Upon a frozen lake,
The fireman then would risk his life
For the lil doggy’s sake.

The dog was coached to safety
But, then, the ice would break.
Fireman plunged to cold waters
Into the icy lake.

The doggy walked to safety
As the fireman was towed
And I was very relieved
As the tension lowered.

And, so, all did turn out well.
Both, man and dog, were saved;
Rescued from the eager grasp
Of an icy, bleak grave.

Now here we have the sweetest tale.
Nearing the end of life,
Residing at a nursing home…
A husband and his wife.

When she grew sick and nigh to death
He’d visit her each day.
But then he, too, would fall quite ill,
Somehow, along the way.

Therefore he moved to where she was,
Still clinging to his bride.
And when she made her transition,
He was there by her side.

It was just five minutes later
He too would slip away.
For, by fate, they left together
On that—their final day.

A poem needs a metaphor
A poem needs a theme
As the poet weave his words
And concocts his scheme.

I’d heard lots about spinach
As if it were pure gold.
But still I did not like it
Till I was nearly old.

But if I’d comprehended
The true health benefits
That comes from eating spinach
I would have eaten it.

Nothing’s like one’s youth,
Once we have become grown.

Yearning for the time
When life was a simple song.

Parents solved kid’s problems.
But when we’re ‘on our own….’

Youth-filled days will pass,
Wearing fragile like the gossamer.

Parents grow sick, old and feeble.
And some are long gone.

We learn to solve our own issues.
But oh for the times that once were.