Writer’s Block

With my pen in my hand,
I glare at the page.
“Why won’t the words come?”
I rant and I rave.

When I do other things,
Thoughts flow in by the score.
But when I pick up a pen,
They flee out the door.

And the ideas I grab
Are so thin and so weak,
Instead of those bold thoughts
I was trying to seek?

All my bright dreams
So quickly disperse,
And I’m stuck with this poem,
For better or verse.

Bare tree branches

The bare tree branches
Against the blue sky
Stand in stark contrast
To the clouds that float by.

The squirrels chase each other
Up branches and down,
Across the high wires,
And down to the ground.

Each bird chirps cheerily
As happy it sings.
The green grass awakens
At the coming of Spring.

Drip Drop

Drip drop drip drop
Listen as the water plops
From the faucet in the sink
To the empty cooking pots.

Plink plunk plink plunk
As each water droplet falls,
Hear it settle in the puddle
That ever slowly upward crawls.

Splish splash splish splash
Hear the pots completely fill,
Growing fuller with each drop
Until out into the sink they spill.

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David

Here’s another poem for NaPoWriMo. I think it actually needs a closing verse, possibly a couple of them, but I’m letting this one stand for now.

The young man stood facing
The huge Philistine
A stone in his hand,
His weapon, a sling.

“Who comes to fight me?”
The enemy reviled.
“I’m a mighty warrior,
He’s but a child!”

“A stone in his hand?
Does he think I’m a beast?”
He shouted to all,
Not afraid in the least.

“I fight not with stone,
With spear, or with sword.
I come to face you
In the name of the Lord!”

The stone shot out,
It flew true and straight.
And killed the brash giant
Who learned fear too late.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, a day that has no flaws,
Shining, gleaming, in the light.
We see it, while burdened down with laws,
Longing, ever, to take flight.

Each new morning, each new day,
Calls us to begin anew,
Seeking to find a perfect way,
Looking for a pathway true.

Showers and sunlight cleanse the air,
The wind blows ever near and far.
Green grows the grass in a land without care.
Tomorrow, shining like a star.

Over the Rocks

Over the rocks, over the stones,
Flows the rushing stream.
Here it runs, there it pools,
Reflecting the sun with a gleam.

Down its banks the dog and boy
Search for treasures in the sand.
Sight and sound, and touch and smell
Help them to find what’s at hand.

Here they dig, there they roam,
Over mud and sand and stone.
Soaked and filthy from their fun,
At last they run toward home.

After the Sun has Set

After the sun has set,
Before the moon will rise,
Comes the world of twilight,
Dusky in the skies.

Ever looking forward
From the fading sun
Going on to evening,
Having the day’s race won.

Into the realm of starlight,
Just to sail the Milky Way.
Keeping awake all evening
Looking ahead to the day.

More songs from the evening birds,
Never heard by the light of the sun
Only the chirping of crickets,
Playing a song just for fun.

Quietly the world will slumber,
Rousing again at the dawn,
Singing the day into breaking,
The dreams take off at a run.

Unto the light of the morning,
Vast the sky of blue
Waiting with half a breath
Xanthous rising ever true.

Young the dawn approaches
Zippy the day aborning
1 follows as best they can
2nd star to the morning.

On the other side of the wardrobe

On the other side of the wardrobe
Is a land of forever snows.
Go though the closet to find
A kingdom that Monsters know.

Open your eyes and you may see
Magic within your midst.
Hold out your hand, and you may find
A world that shouldn’t exist.

The world is waiting to discover
Where the unicorns hide.
Look about, and you may uncover
A dream slipped onto the waking side.

A world full of love and laughter,
A world full of fear and pain.
A world too full to be true,
But may never come again.

Each morning the world made anew,
Free of yesterday’s flaws.
Each evening the world set to rest,
Left shining to great applause.

Spring is Here

I’m going to be trying to do NaPoWriMo this year. NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April.

I’m not going to try to try anything deep or philosophical for it, just some light fluff that flows easily from my fingers. Rhyme, not reason. And maybe not even rhyme. 🙂

So, anyway, here is my first one:

The sun is shining,
Spring is here.
Gone are the winter woes.
The grass turns green,
The flowers grow,
Freed from the winter snows.

The skies cloud up,
The rain falls thick,
Refilling the rivers again.
The thunder claps,
The lighting glares,
All run to hide within.

Some days too hot,
Some days too cold.
In all, a perfect spring.
Some days, sunny,
Some days, snow.
Let's see what summer brings.