In the quiet of the afternoon,
When the sun is at its peak,
A gentle breeze whispers through the room,
And thoughts of a nap begin to peak.

The world is alive with vibrant hues,
But in the shadows, a calmness lies,
A beckoning call to take a break,
To rest and recharge, sweet respite takes.

Oh, afternoon nap, a treasure so dear,
A moment of peace, a time to draw near,
To dream of far-off lands and skies,
Or simply to let the worries die.

With each breath, the tension unwinds,
The mind and body find a new rhythm,
A dance of serenity, a gentle sway,
As worries and stress begin to sway.

In the embrace of a soft, cozy bed,
Or a hammock swung beneath a tree,
The afternoon nap, a gift to unwind,
A sanctuary where the soul can be free.

So here's to the nap, a cherished reprieve,
A slice of heaven, a touch of belief,
That in the midst of chaos and strife,
A moment of peace can always be found,
In the sweet, soothing embrace of an afternoon nap.

I did not hear the bells on Christmas Day,
Amidst the tumult and the disarray,
For in the land, a strife was raging high,
And men in bitter conflict dared to die.

Yet in the midst of all the toil and fight,
There shone a glimmer of celestial light,
For God, in His eternal, boundless grace,
Still held us in the circle of His embrace.

Though discord fills the air with mournful knells,
And deep division in the land compels,
The love that came to Earth on Christmas morn,
Reminds us we are not by God forlorn.

So let the bells, though silent, speak the truth,
That is the heart of man, eternal youth,
And in the darkest night, a guiding star,
Reveals that peace and love are never far.

Though silent chimes, there's news from above,
That God still holds us in His tender love,
And though the world may tremble with much discord,
His presence, ever sure, we can afford.

Humpty Dumpty was a very large gun
Used to protect against the English rebel ****,
But one bright person placed it on a wall
And did not anticipate such a great fall.

(Verse 1)
When I wake up in the morning,
I'm often filled with regret
For all the things I wish I'd done
And the things I can't forget.

(Chorus)
While I can't unsay the things I've said,
Or take back the lies I've told
There's no one else instead
I want to be with when I'm old
If you could give me one more chance
I promise I'll mind my ways,
"Cause heaven only knows
I'm learning from my mistakes.

(Verse 2)
I know I can't change the past,
What's done is done I know,
But I try to improve my lot 'cause
It's from my mistakes I grow.

(Chorus)
While I can't unsay the things I've said,
Or take back the lies I've told
There's no one else instead
I want to be with when I'm old
If you could give me one more chance
I promise I'll mind my ways,
"Cause heaven only knows
I'm learning from my mistakes.

(Bridge)
I know I'm not alone,
'Cause we all make mistakes.
But regret can't hold us back,
Disappointments can't be our brakes.

(Chorus)
While I can't unsay the things I've said,
Or take back the lies I've told
There's no one else instead
I want to be with when I'm old
If you could give me one more chance
I promise I'll mind my ways,
"Cause heaven only knows
I'm learning from my mistakes.

The way to measure affinity,
Is not looks or femininity,
Or how she speaks, or what she might say,
But how she makes you feel each day.

For she, who makes you feel alive,
With passion, delight, joy, love, and pride,
Is one who shares your soul's true light,
And she'll always that's kept well in sight.

So do not be fooled by outward show,
For affinity is deep below,
In the heart, where love and light reside,
And where your soulmate'll always abide.

In measuring affinity, there's so few ways,
Such as the depth of love that's found in a gaze
Or in its shortened breaths that come out with a sigh,
When with the one who makes your heart fly high.

Affinity brings a much quickened heartbeat's pace,
As well as the rush of blood brought to the face,
Sweaty palms and widened pupils when you are near,
Is a sign of the passion that you hold dear.

In those intimate moments you've shared between,
It's the mutuality where love can be seen,
Measuring affinity is more than words,
It is in the way that love ignites and stirs.

So if you're wondering if love is true,
Just pay attention to what your body will do,
For in the breaths, heartbeats, pupils, face, and more,
You will find the measure of the love you adore.

Love is not a fortress.
It cannot keep us safe,
It cannot guard our hearts,
From the pain and strife we face.

It can't keep us from hurt,
Nor can it stay our tears,
It can't protect our lives,
As it can't hold back our fears.

Love is not a fortress.
It's so fragile at best -
So easily broken,
Even for those who're blessed.

Love is not a fortress,
It's the bridge gladly crossed,
It's the path we must take,
No matter what 'ere the cost.

Romantic marriage is illogical.
Nobody is despised, who can
Successfully make marriage work.
Illogical people are despised.
Therefore, all romantics are not married.

I am held captive in Plato's cave,
Forever, it seems, to be enslaved
To its wall-cast shadows, smells, and sounds,
Which we must accept as true and real
Because our own senses so expound.

But, how do we really know what's true
When perception can give little clue
Why anything matters or perchance
To know why this life is not a curse?
But, when words fall short, I choose to dance.

When Hamelin's least favorite visitor departed,
Many of the township were broken hearted
At loss of their youth, but 'twas not perfect justice.
But where to find another pack, swarm or mischief?
Did Washington, DC ever come to mind?

Rin Tin Tin,  Rudy, Charlie Gray, Sandy,
Dodger, Spike, Uggie, Maui, and the *****
Moose, Aleister, Comet, and Benji,  
Buddy, Spuds, Stella,  Mo: all the best,
But did you know they were shelter pets.

Which means they had been forsaken
For very good reasons it may seem,
But THAT someone was quite mistaken,
Because with patience, understanding,
And even love, each could be redeemed.

I too came to a fork in the path
And also took the less trodden lane,
But one misstep put my arm in a cast
A low branch badly hurt my brain.
I  didn't miss the poison sumac site
Or the nest of swarming bees,
But it turned out to be a splendid day,
When I met my wife in the pharmacy.

Thou yet unravish'd apple of the earth,
Had thou been the issue of a tree, most
Would swear thou are what gave evil birth,
As some kind of Mephistophelean host,
To entice the stressed, as well as bored,
With your crunchy, oily, salty snare,  
A potato-y communion slice,
Where beauty is truth, truth's beauty there -
The facts of which can not be ignored.
If only one could just suffice.

microwave food or
conversations, but
lasting love is best
prepared in a crock ***.

her acrid smell revives me,
animating my dreams and
arousing my slumber,
enlivening my spirit.
she then cuddles with me in
in the brisk morning air.
she partakes breakfast
and inspires me to be
someone better than myself
without saying a word.

the comfort zone is not a place.
you can't touch, hear or see  it.
instead, it's that amount of grace
the universe will remit.

but, if you should be found outside
this determinate that's not 3d,
there is one truth that can be implied
you're with splendid company

while (true) {
   if (in (time-space))
      raise(vibration)
   else if (in (space-time))
      raise(consciousness)
}

Honeymoons may be many things, but
They aren't some measurement of time,
More often they are diagnostic tools,
Dead battery, a check engine light,
Low oil, no seat belts, or low on fuel.

you're a songless earworm,
a mind loop.  you keep bubbling,
percolating, rhythmically
strumming my ability
to think of anything else.  

i can't get you out of my mind.

some say life's a maze,
a battle or a race,
a stage, a prison
or even onion,
but beautiful lives
are not that hard,
at least in regard
to how one best thrives.

but you do not need
big piles of money,
being handsome or
by the world adored.
you don't need a spouse,
quite devoted to you,
doing work you choose,
or a fancy house.

but as you've been told,
have no grudges hold,
live with no regrets,
forgive and forget,
live life with candor,
to yourself be true
with the things you do,
but don't be bystander

so, pick a journey,
canvas or story.
tend your life's garden,
ferry your ocean,
canoe your river,
bicycle or skate,
but make no mistake,
do it as a giver.

silence isn't an answer.
does this dress make me look fat?
have you sent your payment yet?

silence isn't a question.
it is neither a query,
nor some kind of conundrum.

silence is a place.
it is the mcdonalds for
finding even more questions.

hot pepper, soda pop,
cinderella with
a cherry on top,
i like coffee, sitting
in a tree, miss
lacy, will you marry me?
as the whole world whirls by,
there was just a moment
you thought that you could fly.

renegade lady,
with your imperfect smile,
steal us away into the darkness,
if just for a while.
or
enchant me with a thread of hope
that only desire can bring
or
just remind that it will soon be spring

How many ways can there be
To say "I love you" realistically?
You can promise to be faithful
And obey, be grateful
For each and every day,
Say how happy you're together,
Or you're birds of a feather,
But I contend all ways are not equal.

Or say she completes you,
Or how she brings your life value,
How much she's very special,
A one in a million miracle.
That you think of her a lot -
Cannot live another day without
Her, and how much you'll be devout.
That these truths are unequivocal.

You can tell her additionally
How she's unconditionally
Accepted and how she supercharges
Your libido and your being at large
And how she makes you feel.
Still better, practice what you mean
And how on you she can lean,
But you can't say, "Will you be my Marge?"

a kiss, as i perceive,
is not heart-shaped,
as you might believe,
but is probably round,
and is certainly red,
like a matador's cape -
as an omen of  things ahead.

it's neither chaperoned
with some remarks,
nor as good when thrown,
but often given in thanks
or followed with a sigh.
sometimes there's sparks,
but sometimes, it's just goodbye.

kiss is neither a vow,
nor monarch seal,
but when disavowed
there seems to be a loss.
it is like tasting soup:
some salt may add appeal,
but, often it just tastes like goop.

Should naive Psyche have believed such
Her new husband to be a beast?
While modern woman have much
Perceived all men, unless deceased,
Propend to be just that way -
A truth that need't the light of day.

Should the pretty boy Cupid
Really have been so, so ******
(Or was he just being stupid)
For believing humans might insist
The truth, as human nature thereof.
Curiosity is much stronger than love.

Change happens very slowly, on our little farm.
When the boss called us in, we were a bit alarmed.
I admit to my chagrin, I didn't have a clue,
But the boss still insisted there was all good news.

He started off by saying how we'd all done our part,
But one had really taken his job to heart
And never had forsaken his very post
And for this reason, he should deserve a toast.

I looked at everyone, but no one could guess,
Because that's one quality we all possessed.
With sentimentality for his ineptment,
Scarecrow's been promoted to management.

The first time I drove, it was in a parking lot.
I remember the damage of mowing the curb blocks.
And how my father, with his head held in his hands,
Didn't even bother to to scold in reprimand,
But, instead, he reached to give me a high fiver,
It was then I pled that I was now a driver.

Who wouldn't enter lion's den
To save a helpless child  
Or stand against oppression
When justice is denied?
Who wouldn't risk the pain
That love can sometimes bring,
Or endure, when all seems lost,
Or not to suffer betrayal's sting?

But how many can bear defeat,
When those around all cheer?
Or, how should one ever meet  
The grief of our fear?  
For me, great courage,
As difficult as it may be,  
Lies in seeking out the truth  
Wherever principle can be gleaned.

some say there's beauty
in the colors of sunsets
or the panoramic view
from a mountaintop
or in a sip of coffee

some would say that there's
beauty in the wonderment
of random acts of kindness
or art or dance or
or just sitting in silence

some might love the sounds
of waves breaking the shoreline
or laughing till you sides ache
or conversations
with a stranger you just met

perhaps you revel
in contour of female form
or some other luscious feasts,
relishing manna
or things worthy of regard

what is beauty for?
beauty's not harmony of
form, color or perception,
but without our minds
beauty would have no purpose

a hole can be an empty space:
a crater, cave, a pit, or loss

a hole can be sheer enjoyment
a dimple, gorge, or doughnut hole

a hole can also connect things
using a thread or fasteners

hope, a seed, is
minuscule, because
if much larger
it wouldn't be a
seed

i walked into the tiki room
of some resort hotel
to find a guy most gloom
who'd been caught by some woman's spell

when i said that "she's not worth it",
i got the strangest look
but when i asked this misfit,
if it felt like love
the fella' knew that he'd been rooked

while all feelings are indeed real,
a product of our brain,
whether star-crossed love, raw deal,
perhaps poor timing,
or doing something one might deign.

but, if some day, you do find me
in the tiki room of
some hotel, please guarantee
that you will be kind,
when i cry about my lost love

in the future
there'll be an app
to tell when you're
lying, so i
won't have to guess
you're lying just
because your lips moved

my clear cookie jar
filled with cutout men,
my chocolate friends,
moons and stars

land lines, phonographs, telex, and hatracks
cassettes, telegraph, tape drives and 8 tracks,
pagers, zip drives, typewriters and ****,
floppy discs, slide projectors, and mainframes,

boom boxes, slide rulers, pagers and portable tv,
laser disks, cartridges, matrix printers and CRT
pdas, walkman, fax machines and reel-to-reel
and you now tell me, my love, your love is real

father woke me at 5 o'clock  
with donuts and chocolate milk.
later, we packed out to the dock
with rods and reels and all our fishing ilk.

with hooks and every fish delight:
worms,  flies, spoons, minnows and crankbaits,
we were well prepared for their fight,
but the hardest part is having to wait.

you should know i put on my own worms
though i can't pretend it's not gross
it is not that i'm afraid of germs
it is that i hate slimy things the most.

i waved my feet over pier's edge,
appreciative of the world's flow,
but please hear my sincerest pledge,
if we caught fish, i probably wouldn't go.

I remember fondly
Those raucous chlorine days
Of shriveled hands
And laughs with friends,
Under those hot summer rays.

There, we played pirates,
Jousting with our noodles,
We walked ship's plank,
Played shark in tank,
And dove for treasured jewels.

We made great whirlpools and
Had  submarine races.
We belly flopped
And caught the "croc",
With smiles on our faces.

how should one measure pain?

in magnitude, as despair, dejection, affliction,
in breadth, as suffering, torment, sorrow,
in extent, as hunger, cold, want,
in frequency, as heartaches,
in degree, as a burn,
in duration, as a candle melts or in clock ticks,
in amount, as in platefuls of food or too much advice,
or in capacity of living?

i have a new job it seems.
it's at a funeral parlor.
it's not the job of my dreams,
but it will do for a starter.

i write poetry to keep myself awake,
and i need the job quite badly,
so i can't afford, sadly, the same mistake

it was last month i lost my gig
for drinking on the job,
but the jury was probably rigged,
'cause it's not like i'm a slob

it's drinking that makes me happy.
it's not like i take hard drugs.
though it may appear quite sappy
i'm not like those other lugs

the job is pretty simple:
each hour i walk around.
i check the locks, i punch a clock;
i don't even walk the grounds.

is there really need for my job?
it's not like the dead will walk
or there's anything to rob
'cause there's nothing here in stock.

the lights just flickered right now.
a thunder storm is approaching,
but there's not a cloud, i avow,
so is subject worth broaching?

today is tuesday; i return
from making my rounds and found
something strange. there were lights burning
when there's no one else around

it's later; lights were on again.
i'm starting to think i'm crazy,
'cause the doors are locked, but then
i know i can be quite lazy

later, there's casket in that room,
which was not in there before.
i do not want to portend gloom,
so i quickly closed the door

but i find that sight quite haunting
and i am more than a bit scared.
what is that lone casket wanting?
are my faculties impaired?

to those who do not like rhymes,
it does not mean that you're uncouth
or you're unsophisticated
or a product of your youth

it may mean you don't read aloud
to hear how the words might sing,
rushing words quite unabated,
to hear joy the sounds might bring

if you dare to heed my advice
and hear angels start to sob,
fascinated, captivated,
orchestrated, consecrated,
the poetess has done her job

in the poorest parts of the world,
you will find smiling faces.
so why are there no lips curled
with those with many graces?

the most that i had ever cried
was not when a loved one died,
nor with the loss of cherished pet,
nor with some profound regret,
nor when i gave my marriage vows
nor with friend's loss I espoused
nor when i found that i was broke,
nor when plans went up in smoke,
nor all the inevitable harms,
but holding my newborn in my arms
but holding my newborn in my arms

Tom & Jerry, Laurel & Hardy,
Batman & Robin, Fred & Barney,
Baggins & Gambee, Bert & Ernie,
Tom Sawyer & Hucklberry Fin,
Lone Ranger & Tonto, Snowy & Tintin,
Chip & Dale, Snoopy & Woodstock,
Archie & Jughead, Holmes & Sherlock,
Ethyl & Lucy, Larry-Curly-Moe,
Mutt & Jeff, Skywalker and Solo,
Laurel & Hardy, Lois & man of steel,
Are there any friendships real?

what gives your life real meaning?
at the top, i bet it is friends.
what else could give life such gleanings?
neither health nor fancy playpens?
but, while husbands name their wives
as their "bestie", why do wives name
other women as friends?

i cannot remember the first time
i found myself in a line.
perhaps it was queuing up for lunch
and had to stare at someone's haunch

of course, i waited for concerts great,
though, i quickly learned of that mistake.
but the lines are long at the DMV,
the apple store and the grocery.

however, i find the greatest crime
when waiting patiently in line,
and this cannot be overwrought,
is honking in the church parking lot

What love you about summer camp?
I can bet it was not canned food,
Nor being the archery champ,
Nor the crafts, which were often glued.

Though pancakes always made you smile
And swimming would have many laughs,
It wasn't like home, by a mile,
Nor were there always happy staff.

Perhaps you enjoyed riding horse;
There were climbing ropes and hiking.
You made at least one friend, of course,
But the fish were never biting.

So, what about camp did you love?
Certainly, it didn't feel like home!
But it was indicative of
That, at least, you were on your own!

it isn't quite the secret
to feeding many folk -
we're not talking peanuts
and it isn't quite the joke,
'cause some'll say they're fasting,
others will often share,
so there is no typecasting
when pantry may be bare;
secret to feeding many,
i'm ashamed to say,
on very little penny,
is to cook in the worst way

individualists, freaks,
eccentric, ******, oddball,
offbeat, loser, not in clique,
we must be outsiders all

birthday candles blaze
before you and someone asks,
do you still stay mum?

does telling goals trick
the unconscious to believe
it's already done?

are there flower signs
to tell the bees another
has already come?