Candy that I shouldn’t be eating
Is slowly depleting
from the candy jar
that’s not too far
from my hand that inches toward
the candy that I hoard,
one piece at a time
added to those that I’m
already busy digesting
until their final resting.
I’m not going to make a New Year’s resolution,
One that takes an idea of mine and artificially inflates
The idea based on calendar dates.
Rather, I have a new solution.
I’m making a New-You’s Resolution that insists
That I start my resolutions now
Insisting that it’s my choice that will persist
Instead of a calendar vow.
This way when July 27th rolls around
And New Year’s resolution’s are long gone,
In those moments when the 1st cannot be found
I’ll find myself leaning upon
My New-You’s Resolution letting me renew
My outlook on life and what I do
Based on constant choices and decisions
Instead of New Year’s Visions.
Deleting the Block
It’s so easy to hit delete or back space
Any moment and erase the poem I’m typing.
While I’m griping about not writing
Waving fists at the block
To leave him in shock
With the fact that I wrote
Something like this note.
Clearing My Desk Tomorrow
My desk is piled high
With stuff that I
Should clear away
And sort today.
Though painful to the eye,
I still will wonder why
I shouldn’t simply say,
Tomorrow’s just a day away.
Rocking to Sleep
I’m thankful to my wife
For the life we’ve co created,
For the children she sedated
Last night while I had a turn sleeping.
She was busy keeping
The rocker rocking,
Our children back to whispered dreams.
This is one of our family traditions. looking at lights on Christmas eve.
Gingerbread Family Looking at Lights
Since this evening merited
A tradition we’ve inherited,
We set the timer on a slow-paced drive
To keep the ritual alive.
The Christmas music’s on,
While red hots look upon
Lit-up houses we drive by
Frosting dripping in each eye.
Cranking the heat tonight
We hoped it might
Into smaller cookies sedated.
Two of our cookies cannot keep
Their eyes open, they fell asleep
While the third is too excited
Glazing at Christmas lights,
An oven window’s Christmas sights.
Until the oven puts him down
We’ll drive around this lit-up town.
Filed under food, parenting
Joseph and the Manger
Secure and pure.
Jesus slept tightly curled
In the arms of his mother
While Joseph rigged a stranger
Crib than any other
For the savior of the world.
The Gift of Gloves
Because your subconscious loves
To lose a glove and ruin a pair.
I got you eight identical gloves
So you’ll have gloves to spare.
Our what-ifs are now little whos
With thoughts that confuse
Me and my wife, who try to understand
Everything they’re saying
While we’re playing
In their paper-tube band.
production photos: wrapping presents with eyelids. Thanks Erin and Cory for your work on this. view the original post HERE.