I can only sit and sigh –
It seems the hot air man’s come by.
For all he talks of this and that,
It amazes me he isn’t flat.
Tag Archives: Poetry
The Hot Air Man
A New Goal
A new goal, I hope unsolicited,
For people I’ve recently visited.
The ambition goes something this way:
That their happiness when I arrive
Be bigger and less contrived
Than their joy when I go away.
If I Had a Blanket of Snow
If I had a blanket of snow
I would take it wherever I go
On those spicy summer days,
It would keep me cool and calm.
On frigid winter nights,
It would keep me balmy warm.
If they could make one water-proof,
It might make a decent boat.
But who would try it out
And watch it melt or float?
Dance On!
The tap dance of fingers,
Not to music but to thoughts,
Clicking in rhythms:
High, low, fast, and slow.
The number goes on
As the words flow.
Of Dance
Pulsing rhythms,
Grinding beats, or
Gliding melodies:
No matter.
A leap, a step, a turn,
A dip, a stretch –
Expression in motion,
All thrill:
Pure joy.
A Flood
Spinning and swirling
In and out,
The brain breathes
In concentric circles
Like the ripples in a pond,
That move in all planes
And dimensions:
Shifting and sliding
Waves of thought.
twytte 