Page 297.

A Cause For Pause

I stopped to watch the sunset
As the skyʼs color didnʼt stay,
But evolved from yellow, to scarlet
And resolved in a purplish gray.
I was reminded of the saying,
“Stop and smell the roses.”
A full-bodied scent upon inhaling
Stimulates our noses
And excites the whole brain.
I realized anew that many wonders
Are simple and easy to attain.
Perhaps the message thunders,
“Stop!” In this fortuitous moment
I donʼt care what else is going on,
The world is on pause for this scent
Or this sunset thatʼs glowing on.
For a short time Iʼll focus to be
Aware of whatʼs meaningful to me.

Page 294.

Frustration Illustration

The letter said, "We want to publish you
So send in a poem right away
For the book of Poetry Who's Who."
I went to the gym that day.
I'm not trying to procrastinate,
But poetry's going to have to wait.

I cut up a slab of ham that I might
Put in the beans that soaked overnight.
"I'm done in the kitchen," I think.
Then I noticed dirty dishes in the sink.
There's no time to hesitate,
But poetry's going to have to wait.

My bank statement came in the mail.
I need to balance my checkbook
So I'm not overdrawn, land in jail
And get treated like a crook.
I don't want my poem to be late,
But poetry's going to have to wait.

Oops, there's my friend's phone call.
Lately he's needed some cheering up
To help him make it thru it all.
His back pain keeps flaring up.
There're some things you can't eliminate,
And poetry's going to have to wait.

Since I'm on my computer anyway
Let me look at Facebook and email.
Before you know it, there goes my day
And a feeling tells me I'm gonna fail.
I really didn't mean to procrastinate
And I hope my poem's not too late.

Dear Reader, as you can see
I made the submission deadline,
Even tho it made me antsy
To think about meeting the guideline.
Putting things off didn't determine my fate
And I got this poem in by the set date.

Page 77.

My Way on the Hiway

Don’t make me ask,
We’ve barely started
I’m reaching for a mask
‘Cause somebody farted.

There’s a car on my tail.
It looks like a female.
She’s all alone
But she’s on her cell phone.

We’re going uphill,
Swear shucky darn and curse bad luck
Bringing traffic to a standstill
It's an RV passing a truck!

It’s no mistake
To hit the brake.
Soon he’ll be out of sight,
Sir Speedy just passed on the right.

"Buddy, the same to you!"
I’m driving with an attitude.
When I say, “Thank you.”
I don’t mean it with gratitude.

Going down the road
I think I've got it made,
Then I let my rage unload
I give it to the weenie brigade.

So it's speed up and then slow down,
When will we ever get to town?
On a five-will-get-you-ten bet,
A small voice asks, “Are we there yet?”

Page 260.

Autumn Totem

Let there be an end to the day
And its activity.
It's time for sleep to stay
In all its passivity.
It's a time for changing gears,
Taking life at a slower speed
And laying down, my dears,
To let my pace match my need.

Autumn has come at the roots
Of summer's growth and commotion.
It's time to enjoy the fruits
Of the production and promotion.
Fall has a unique feeling
From the lower temperature
And slowing down, dealing
Nature's distinctive signature.

I've matured into my golden years.
Sometimes I sense it's time
To slow down, shifting gears
To enjoy life at its prime,
To reduce duty and participation.
Gently braking until my last breath
And that feeling of emancipation
When I shall finally taste death.