Tag: writer

The Star

I hope your path takes you far,

In my eyes, you are already a star.

Your career will bring you fame,

In that I am your fan, there is no shame.

Your acting skills are on the rise,

I see the joy shine through your eyes.

When you have completed your plans,

I know you will still remember your fans.

You acknowledge us each and every night,

A word from you makes our day bright.

What you strive for, we also dream,

And that is to see you on the silver screen.

When all your dreams come true,

We will still be here rooting for you.

Gratitude

How do you show gratitude,

and display a thankful attitude?

Give recognition to your family,

honor them with grace and humility.

Praise the decorated war-time vet,

as we owe them a profound debt.

Thank your trusted and loyal friends,

those who stick by you to the end.

Do this on more than just Thanksgiving Day,

humble and grateful, you should always stay.

The Pandemic

This pandemic is not a hoax,

or the butt of your dumb jokes.

Too many people have now died,

and thousands of families have cried.

Did this come from a lab or a bat?

Should we blame a Republican or Democrat?

Should we blame the Fake News press

for instigating this disastrous mess?

Maybe we should hold off on the blame,

for in the end, we all die the same.

If we all work together, you can be sure

that we will prevail and find a cure!

New Love’s Flame

New love’s flame burns so bright.

All other thoughts take flight.

His radiant smile lights up the room.

You’re swept off your feet like by a broom.

His eyes shine like the sun.

Your heart beats like a drum.

His touch lights you on fire.

Your eyes burning with desire.

When his lips touch your skin.

Your world stops, your head spins.

Your bodies slowly entwine.

Hearts and souls also combine.

Your mind says you better stop.

Though your body wants to pop.

For this boy, you can wait.

The love you feel is that great.

With a groan you slowly part.

You know, for now, that is smart.

New love’s flame burns so bright.

Desire will own many a night.

Lazy Weekend

I stretch and yawn as I rise,

wiping the sleep from my eyes.

Another day does now start,

sometimes that is the hardest part.

Putting my feet onto the floor,

feels like such a hefty chore.

The smell of bacon fills the air,

and my mind becomes aware.

I finally leave my comfy bed,

shaking sleepiness from my head.

I follow my nose to the food,

coffee soon brightens my mood.

The day started out slow,

but now I am ready to go.

Another lazy weekend day,

Is officially underway.

Dedicated Runner

The raindrops splash on my face.

I lower my head and quicken my pace.

I curse the clouds up in the sky.

I’d hoped this storm would pass me by.

I need to finish my morning run,

and it is much easier in the sun.

I won’t let the weather slow me down,

or turn my smile into a frown.

Rain or shine, I still run.

Snow and ice, though, are no fun.

I don’t care what the weather may be,

Running makes me feel free.

It relieves my stress and clears my head,

there’s nothing I’d rather do instead.

Rain, ice, sleet, or snow,

I’ll still run, this I know.

Friendship

When friendships wane,

It can cause great pain.

You may not even know why,

But you think of them and cry.

Just living life may create the rift,

That made your friendship start to drift.

But I choose to hold on tight,

I won’t give up without a fight.

To me, my friends are very dear,

Whether they come from far or near.

If I label you as my friend,

Expect me to stick by you until the end.

I love each of you with all my heart,

And I never want our paths to part.

The Sound of Silence

Silence makes an eerie sound,

When you’re alone, no one around.

Your house is normally full of noise,

Barking dogs and rowdy boys.

But this night, it’s just you,

Sitting in silence, nothing to do.

You could watch the tv,

Or listen to music on MP3.

But for now you just sit,

And rest your tired brain a bit.

Far too soon they will be here,

Charging in with whoops and cheers.

So, you enjoy the silence while you can,

Who knows when it’ll come again.

The silence disappears as your brothers arrive,

The house, again, a buzzing hive.

My Poetry

My poems are not all about me.

Not an autobiography.

I sometimes make a simple choice

To write in a different voice.

I can’t just write about me.

That would be boring as can be.

The voice is sometimes my own,

Bits of my life being shown.

But most is just poetry,

And voices that I’d like to be.

All in all, the art is mine,

And I hope you think that’s fine.