With my spaceship’s sails full And the spinnaker pulling us west Our journey around the world Will be an expeditious adventure Navigating our way over polluted oceans And above war-ravaged ground
I’ll be confirming, first-hand That our planet is, water, green, and round And not a flat contaminated compound
Over at Weekly Prompts, it’s the last weekend of the month, so it’ll be time for another ‘One Day’ Prompt! … Please visit their fabulous by clicking on >> Here
One Day, the Wild Wind Will Stop
We are back from our morning walkies And Frankie is recovering on the lounge suite He’s worn out from the blustery battering By the gales that have been blowing all week
I ask Frankie “When will these wild winter winds stop” “Don’t ask me! You’re the one with the fancy Computer”
Jolted by Frankie’s sarcastic remark, I looked at the weather forecast “Yeah, apparently the windy conditions are going to moderate a little tomorrow” “That’s good. Then I’ll be able to hear you when you call me to come back”
He nods and smiles, recalling his sheepish excuse for wandering off this morning and did not return when I called him. “Never mind Frankie, one day soon, the wild wind will stop” And slyly, he gives me that innocent doggie look!
Hello dear readers and followers, I am a writer for “Coffee House Writers magazine” (USA), on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “A Weighty Mission”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … To Read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/the-crows-weighty-mission/
Selfish, unopened minds remain numbed False eyelashes are heavy and closed Botoxed lips are silent and sealed And elephant ears have been pegged out of sight
But there under our careless feet The earth’s ferns have agelessly survived Three hundred and sixty million years Without changing the appearance of their golden leaves That timelessly regenerate themselves By naturally releasing their fertilising spores
Above the horizon’s sentinel tree line Dark moody clouds Were ominously rolling my way
Swiftly, fat wet drops Started spattering my cap And the growing round puddles Begun pooling into ponds
I’m still miles from home Regardless, on the remaining trek back I’ll be good-naturedly splashing And sloshing my way along the track
Today, I found this interesting song, “And Yet the World Turns” by, Automatic Shoes, the lyrics are below
And Yet the World Turns: Lyrics; Automatic Shoes. Matthew Joseph Hughes, Washington.
Never had a dark thought Never felt a love rot I just work the nine to five That’s all I do, and I’m alive
And I never really dreamed of too much more
Never seen a sad face Or thought much about the human race I just punch out and punch in And I’d do it all again
And I never really dreamed of too much more
And yet the world turns Though your soul, it burns You long to end these bitter wars And get the rich to feed the poor
But I guess I never thought like that before
Never wanted to run away From all the bills I have to pay I do my best to please the man Who signs my checks and ties my hands
And I guess I never thought of too much more
Never had to fight Or stand up for my own rights I guess I’m no protected class And I’m fine with kissing ass
And I’m not real keen on doing too much more
And yet the world turns Though your soul, it burns You long to end these bitter wars And get the rich to feed the poor
But I guess I never thought like that before No I never really dreamed of too much more No I never really dreamed of too much more And I guess I never thought like that before
Being a diabetic has its restrictions But the main rule is, ‘everything in moderation’
I love homemade cheesecake Especially the ones they make At the Moorabool Valley Chocolate Cafe Their irresistible strawberry cheesecakes Are on the better side of scrumptious
Frankie does not have any dietary problems So, he over-indulges on a strawberry And the crunchy biscuit base While I relax with my cafe coffee And write another pleasure-loving poem
Today my ‘Throwback Friday’ poem, is from June 2019, and again, as is my way, I have slightly revised the original piece.
Black Snow Thaws In The Winter Sun (Revised)
I’ve no more secret words of sorrow Only old lines I’ve borrowed I found them in a poet’s dusty booklet The pages were tattered, like Grandma’s cookbook Hidden in the family’s sacred cabinet Faded words that now appear outdated Years of love and dreams relegated Stored away, but prudently not wasted
My road ahead is now cleared of black snow The night is not always dark, you know?
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 