Candy Disappearing
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.
New-You’s Resolution
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.
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,
Quietly talking
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
Be translated
Into smaller cookies sedated.
Two of our cookies cannot keep
Their eyes open, they fell asleep
While the third is too excited
Completely delighted,
Glazing at Christmas lights,
An oven window’s Christmas sights.
Until the oven puts him down
We’ll drive around this lit-up town.
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.
Paper-Tube Band
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.
Christmas Eve Eve
It’s Christmas Eve Eve and people are taking off early
Because they know that they will surely
See that perfect gift if they simply sift
Through enough stores and find
A gift that’s not yet come to mind.
That special someone needs something
And maybe commercialism will bring
Some brand new product to light ,
Put a perfect gift in sight.
I’m hoping that’s the case
Or tomorrow’s local race
Will be like the Michigan Mile, derby style.
I’ll be joined by all of those
Fellow citizens that chose
Christmas Eve to go shopping with me,
Risking a Christmas Eve injury.
Waiting for Big Ideas
I’m waiting for it, twiddling each thumb
Waiting for an idea to come
But not just something small,
A big idea that I can call
My own thing
That thing that I bring to the table
Out of a fable and into reality
Though the truth might be
That I’m not doing anything
That will actually bring
Something like that into fruition
Because my thumbs rotate in position
Until I have another great thought.
I wouldn’t want to be caught
Thinking something dumb.
So I’m waiting for it, twiddling each thumb,
Waiting for an idea to come.
Vacancy Signs
A couple thousand years a go
There was a pregnant woman, nine months along.
She carried the savior of the world and so
Joseph thought it would be wrong
To stay in a barn all night.
He tried every Inn in sight
In hopes that he might
Find something a little more “right”
Than out in the barn hitting the hay.
Where the animals lay.
But truth is it was fitting the way
Jesus entered the world that night
‘Cause what a horrible sight
It would be if I had to see
Little inn scenes every year
With glowing neon lines
Of vacancy signs.
…But I suppose we should wear those
As we’re staring, preparing the manger scenes
Lining up kings and things.
We should have big old letters across our hearts
Reading “Vacancy” to say that He
Can come in now.
To say, I’ve cleared you a place
My heart now has a space
That you can take and make your own.
Pardon the mess. I’ve been living alone.
BonjourPoetry 