On sight first, my head you turned
Fire started, body burned
Felt I then consumed with lust
Have you soon, hmmm, yes, I must

Shyly got your number I
Called a day before went by
Out a date upon went we
Restaurant, then to the sea

Walking were we, hand in hand
Beach with moonlight, on the sand
Hug and kiss, so true they were
Parting, then, must we endure

Next night, better yet it was
Time expands love, yes, it does
In love grew we, more each day
Hearts together, they must stay

Long time now, yes, love we more
Never parting like before
With your soul, my senses fill
Love you always, yes, I will

Peek under the bed, do not,
to me my father said;
something there of filth and rot
there is, angry and red.
Grab and eat you, yesss, it will,
if careful you are not,
and when of you it’s had its fill,
your brother it will spot.

When in bed at night you are,
yesss, go to sleep you must,
or guise under of moon and star,
turn you to ash and dust,
it will, yesss. Think you it will not?
Awake, stay you, and when
have under bed looked you and fought
your monster, think again.

My home, this swamp is
Stagnant might it be
But mists, rise they do
The sun, it glows through

The bugs, they whirl
The mists, they dance through
In their dance, beautiful they are
And my heart happy is

My eyes closed, they are
As sniff I the fragrant air
Rotting leafmold, with swamp water mixed is
To smelly mud, my heart belongs

Pass on by they look at me
Falls down the rain does
In her eyes though as tears
Found once love was
But lost now it is
The hardest part moving on
Fall sometimes you must to rise to the top
Letting it happen again the scariest part is
The worst thing not opening your heart
Unless you search happiness you will never find
Unpredictable life may be
Without happiness what’s life
Without love what’s happiness

When only one year old, you are,
Long and drawn out, the days are
The entire expanse of your life, a year is
And to pass the next one a lifetime takes

At five, still a fifth of your life, each year is
Some movement now, time does have
But to now still very slow compared
Tick … tock … tick … tock … hmmmmm

At 20, to be slow you expect the next year
But surprisingly, faster than expected, it is
Quicker pace, one twentieth of a lifetime has
Of the years passed than each, yessssss

40, you now are; almost grown, your kids are
Where did the years go, hmmmmm?
Each, only one fortieth of your life is
Short, and every day shorter getting

Reached 80 in the blink of an eye, you have
Lifetime gone in a finger snap, yessssss
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick
Of your life, there goes one eightieth

one thousand worth
a picture is
mean words do I
in rhetorical quiz

mightier than light saber
pen is said to be
for human perhaps
but Jedi is me

in rhymes I am talking
confused is my diction
the end is at start
in like movie Pulp Fiction

words no more
have I to say
poem this is
not missive disarray

Yoda "Oda" to Peanut Butter

Ah how yummy, peanut buttery, it is.
Bread of a spread you are.
Sweetly sit you do, stickily, it is.
In your precious jar.

I must eat, hunger is with me.
Feast on you, I must.
Tummy rumbles, aching I do.
Jelly maybe, messy I do.

Crackers, not a must for me,
A banana, how great for me.
Celery, not to taste, no way.
For not, my bread best, it is.

Google search, a plan had I.
Image myself make, I would not try.

A flying cow, design not my own.
Make it funny I will, with just it's bones.

Crop them I will, the legal parts.
Notice they wont, that's how it starts.

The clone tool perhaps, use it I must.
Use patch tool I will, to get any dust.

Flag it they will, voters cry foul.
Sources they seek, a link to the cow.

A Secret Police notice, will I fear.
Power they have, to make disappear.

"Looked over entry", tell you they have.
Find them they will, these illegal snags.

Disqualification notice, now I receive;
"Copyright violation", they believe.

A thousand words, is picture worth.
Big red circle I have, for all my work.

Pretty, the flowers are
Look better than the fake ones, they do
Roses and lilacs, good they smell.
The thorns poke, they do
Take away from the beauty, this does not.
Put them in a glass vase, I will.
Set them on the table, I will.
Invite Darth Vader to dinner, will I.
The pretty flowers will soften them, they will.
Take some home to the Death Star, he will.
Show them to his friends, he will.
Die, the flowers will.
Fall to the floor, will the petals.
Sad, will be I.
Until come again, will they.

A Dream Misleading

Alive and well, love is?
Tasting its fruits, its weight in my heart, I again feel.
Thriving, am I still? Proceed into these waters, shall I dare?
Breathing, feeling, caring. Is this me?
Death stalking me, I had believed the emptiness would prevail.

Faith and hope, am I truly to partake?
Wonders of life, of joy, are they mine to enjoy?
Barely breathing for years, my heart so quiet.
Beating but barely, devoid of nourishment.
A dream it was? Shuddering some, an intermittent quiver, I awoke.

Beyond the pain, I am done. My all, withering. So still.
I so ache; I am numb. Dubious to plant trust in such a quest to search for love.
I face the dreary truth of my days, hurt and bereaved.
Clear reflections in the mirror, aging body, ill health.
Soon out of time, I release the dream with determined abandon.

The possibility, perchance, that love nods to me?
Ah, a dream still breathing, but not mine to own.
No fruition, I resist to dwell in the realm of what might have been.
Of what could be. It is not. Alone, I remain, so to be.