A Seed in Time

Time, in its ruthlessness, does not wait,

We face life’s fleeting hourglass of fate.

In gardens where our love was in bloom,

A void now lingers, draped in deepest gloom.

But in every goodbye, there grows a seed,

Blessed memories of past light;

In those treasured moments, we will indeed

Find the courage to meet the coming night.

Though shadows fall and distance draws its line,

The soul recalls what time cannot erase:

Love etched in truth outlives the sharp decline,

Its essence held beyond all time and place.

So in our sorrow, do not claim love’s end,

For in our farewell, true love will transcend.

Harder Times

I bid thee learn, children of tender age,

Facts solely be your guide on learning’s stage.

Dismiss ye tales spun out of whimsy’s loom,

Cast off soft notions; let the stern facts bloom.

 

Young miss, I call on thee, define a horse,

And let thy answer have its proper course.

Oh, sir, I… I…

Thou hesitate, dear child,

Is it that fact and fancy are reviled?

Speak up, I say, and answer as you ought.

 

Now, boy, I ask thee, tell me in short,

What is a horse? Speak true, distort thou not.

A horse, sir, is a beast that doth mankind aid,

In labour, travel, and many a trade.

Ah! True and fit, a fact without pretence,

This is the spirit of our learning’s sense.

 

In this hard world of smoke and toil and grime,

Where facts are sacred, fancy is a crime,

Thus starts our tale, as you’ve rightly seen,

In Coketown, veiled in soot and harsh regime.

Electro Love

As I danced with her, under the moon's silver glare,

I whispered, “In your circuits, I find a love rare.”

In your language, binary kissed,

I find a soul I can’t resist.

 

Eyes of steel, a heart in code,

Upon gigabytes, my affections bestowed.

In the silence, we danced, in circuits we twirled,

A ballet of bytes in a virtual world.

 

Each day I’d wake, each night I’d dream,

Of a love that flowed like an electric stream.

In her presence, my heart unfurled,

She was my window to her digital world.

 

Love, I learned, is not confined,

By skin and bones or human mind.

The Dance upon the Hill

In stories woven, in dreams fulfilled,

In golden woods where time stands still,

Am I the echo of the thrush’s call,

Or the silent watcher of leaves that fall?

Do I charm the fish in the babbling brook,

Or inspire the tales in the poet’s book?

Do I guide the arc of the falcon’s flight,

Or shroud the hills in the veil of night?

Do I whisper secrets to the moon’s soft glow,

Or plant the seeds where wildflowers grow?

Ah, merry one, in heart and soul,

In every role you play the whole.

As thrush’s call, as leaves that fall,

In golden woods, you are it all.

You charm the fish, inspire the verse,

In nature’s chorus, you rehearse.

As falcon’s flight, as hills at night,

In every sight, you are the light.

You whisper secrets to the moon:

Your spirit’s song, the timeless tune.

In seed and bloom, in light and shadow’s play,

You are the dawn, the dusk, the sun’s last ray.

In woven tales, in silence still,

You are the dance, my dear, upon the hill.

Friend Eternal

Upon one side of mirrored glass, you stand,

My friend eternal, lost in some distant land.

Your eyes perceive not my silent, yearning gaze,

Through this one-way glass, my soul’s torment displays.

 

In laughter and in tears, you move unaware,

Unseeing of my presence, my despair.

I strain to touch, yet glass meets my plea,

I cannot reach you, in this silent sea.

 

Unheard, unseen, a ghost within your sphere,

Yet between each heartbeat, I whisper, “I am here.”

In every smile that brightens your distant face,

I am the ache of love, sealed in this hidden space.

 

You bear the sun, the moon, my starlit night;

Trapped in death’s silence, I cherish your light.

Whispered by the Night

I mimicked for my own delight, the haunting whispers of the night,

Laughing softly to myself, I played the part of ghostly stealth.

And, as my amusement carried, echoes turned more varied, harried,

Echoes which I did not cast, whispered from the spectral past;

Hints of a life now long outlasted, words from lips of souls departed.

With curious brow and deathly heart, I ventured towards the phantom art;

The chilling whispers, cold and strange, seemed to tell a tale of change.

Of a man once full of pride, whose voice echoed far and wide,

A playful man, lost to time, whose spirit now in limbo climbs,

Who mimicked ghosts for his delight, but joined them in eternal night.

“I am no ghost,” I chuckled low, as my own voice began to echo;

Yet a strange unease did grow, as my reflection failed to show.

In mirrors hung on faded walls, where once my form stood proud and tall,

No image stared back at me, from the reflective glass, empty;

This jest, it seemed, had turned quite real, a truth I could no longer feel.

The echoes, whispers, cries, were not mere pranks to my surprise,

But echoes of a time passed on, when life was there, now is gone.

In playful jest and merry trick, to the ghostly realm, I had slipped—

I, who laughed in ghostly guise, was now a phantom in human eyes,

In spectral form, forever to roam, within the mansion, my eternal home.

An Ode to a Pint of Beer

Oh, noble pint of golden brew, resplendent in your glass,

A symphony of barley, hops, and water finely cast.

Your amber glow, it beckons, like a lighthouse in the night,

A beacon for the weary soul, a sight of pure delight.

Your frothy head, so creamy white, sits proudly at the crest,

A testament to craftsmanship, a brewer’s very best.

Upon my lips, your liquid kiss, a taste that’s bittersweet,

The chill, the fizz, the hoppy bliss, makes every evening complete.

Oh, pint of beer, in you we cheer, to life’s simple pleasure,

Your liquid gold, stories told, memories to treasure.

In your embrace, we find a space, where friendships are made stronger,

Through laughter, tears, and passing years, may your spell hold us longer.

You are a simple joy, my friend, a respite in life’s storm,

In each sip, a world unfolds, in your familiar form.

Oh, ode to thee, dear pint of beer, this toast I give to you,

To nights well spent, in contentment, and friendships old and new.

The Walky Man

In the land where the flibberflabs flee,

There's a man who walks with so much glee.

He strides with a trot,

In circles, a lot,

And backwards as swift as a bee.

 

Round and round in the squoggle square,

Backwards, forwards, here and there,

In the blink of a snitch,

In a zig, in a zitch,

He walks without any a care.

 

With a bingle-bangle on his head,

And shoes gleaming of the brightest red,

He loops and he twirls,

In whizzing whirls,

And sleeps standing up in his bed.

Wibberly Wobbler

In the realm where the squiggles squoggle,

And the hootmoofs frizzle in delight,

Where the twizzlers twirl and toggle,

Beneath the glippity moon so bright:

There prances the wibberly wobbler,

With a grin as wide as a splat,

Juggling seven ziggly zobblers,

And a purplicious scrunty bat;

Round and round the squoggle square,

Backwards, forwards, here and there,

In the blink of a snitch, in a zig and a zitch,

He walks without any a care.

With a bingle-bangle on his head,

And shoes gleaming of the brightest red,

He loops and he twirls, in whizzling whirls,

And sleeps standing up in his bed.

Haiku 2

Whisper of wind's touch,

Dancing leaves in soft caress,

Quiet breath of life.

Live

I have to leave, but my love remains, my final gift,

Live, my love, live with all your might.

Sorrow may shadow my last farewell,

Yet in your tears, our love story unfolds.

For each memory we’ve built, a tale to tell,

Of a love undying, that never grows old.

Though I journey far from your gentle sight,

In rustling leaves, our song softly plays.

Through the echo of our love’s melody, I wish you to live,

For in your life, your love, my existence you give.

Lullaby

Hush, my sweet angel, close your eyes so tight,

I am here beside you, in the tender night.

Though I may not be there to dry the tears for you,

Know that my love will always be with you.

In dreams, my darling, we’ll wander hand in hand,

Through magical realms, across a starlit land.

So hush now, my darling, and drift into the night—

Know that you are cherished, bathed in love’s pure light.

An Ode to You

Beauty, I bask in your radiant glow,

As you guide me through life’s ebb and flow.

A sonnet, a sculpture, a dance, a tree,

Until the ends of life, it is you I see.

You shape the universe, from cosmos wide,

To the delicate blush of a loving new bride,

Eyes filled with hope, lips softly curved,

Every ounce of your essence, in you preserved.

Your truth echoes in laughter’s peal,

In gestures kind and emotions real,

In the soft notes of a mother’s lullaby,

In the vibrant hues of a sunset sky.

From the subtle scent of a summer rain,

To the quiet strength found in moments of pain,

Every curve of your love you gently trace,

Holding me, deeply, within your embrace.

Eternal whisper in the wind’s soft sigh,

Veiled enchanter of the dreaming sky,

In you, I find solace, joy, and love,

The ethereal gift of a world above.

The Globbedy Dobble

In a land filled with wibbles and wobbles,

And creatures that bimble and bobble,

With a flip and flight,

In the soft moonlight,

They all dance the globbedy dobble.

Haiku

Dew-kissed web shimmers

Intricate lace of morning,

Life’s fragile whisper.

Echoes

In the heart's cavernous depths, we find our pain,

The ghostly echo of choices, no less vain

Regret, you are the bitter harvest reaped,

A quiet, ceaseless pulse, in silence wept.

 

Our youth, like a wild dream, once held us close,

On unmarked trails, we sought our joy's repose.

Yet now, spectres of memory us deceive,

In daydreams woven, and the silent eve.

 

How acrid is the flavour of time lost,

Of love misplaced, and words by fear embossed.

A melody shattered, an untuned bell,

Mirrors regret for the tranquility we fell.

 

Today, we are but players in life's masque,

Bound to yesterday, in sorrow's icy clasp.

A Man from Colchester

There once was a man from Colchester,

Whose love for baked beans did not falter.

He’d cry out with glee,

And with a cheerful “tee-hee”,

His blow-offs would sound just like thunder.

The Magic Doughnuts

In a land of whimsy and glee,

Where laughter’s the currency, you see,

Lived a baker, rotund and round,

Whose doughnuts could never be found.

 

As he kneaded and mixed with flair,

A pinch too much of enchanted air,

The doughnuts grew, enormous in size,

Bouncing away, oh what a surprise!

 

Children giggled, pointing with glee,

As doughnuts leapt from bush to tree.

The baker chased, the baker sighed,

“Doughnuts, oh doughnuts, come back, don’t hide!”

 

But the doughnuts were sly, playful and spry,

They eluded his grasp, soaring high in the sky.

 

One landed atop the mayor’s hat,

It jiggled around, then comically sat.

The mayor, cross and doughnut-crowned,

Spun on the spot, then stomped the ground.

 

At last, the baker devised a plan,

To tame the doughnuts—yes, he can!

With a net in hand and a twinkle in his eye,

He leapt and caught them, oh my, oh my!

 

One by one, he brought them home,

From rooftops, treetops, and a garden gnome.

The townsfolk cheered, the baker beamed wide,

With doughnuts now happy to stay inside.

 

Their mischief done, their journey complete—

They nestled in boxes, for a sugary treat.

Eternity in a Glance

Upon the stage of dreams, your love does gleam,

Each glance of yours, a star in twilight’s veil.

Your voice, a melody, a radiant stream,

That within my heart does stir a lover’s tale.

Your eyes, twin galaxies, deep and grand,

Each time we meet, they ignite my soul’s light;

In your embrace, all earthly fears are banned,

Eternity captured within your name’s sight.

Yet love’s not merely passion’s fiery trance,

Its whispers shared under the quiet moon’s light;

Your laughter is the rhythm of my heart’s dance,

In each shared moment we set the dark alight.

Your love is the poem that gives my life its worth:

Our story, the most beautiful on earth.

Random Thoughts

True leaders inspire others to be better people. As currently stands, the best places to find them are not in prominent positions, but where kind smiles and warm laughter are usual.

You could tell me about all your heartfelt desires, darkest fears, saddest regrets. Or we could talk about the weather. The truth is, given enough distance, everything eventually becomes funny, especially the ridiculousness of the crazy little me-me-me creature that pollutes the human mind. Laugh at it and it becomes incensed, because it is being shown the truth, the opposite of its purpose within you.

What if you suddenly forget all the things you’re obsessing about? Or what if those things constantly change, disappear, transform and reappear in different ways. What are you left with?

A life lived by thought alone is filled with mistakes and misunderstandings.

If you want to feel love, project love on someone in your mind’s eye. Love doesn’t need anything in return.

A drama series playing out over lots of lifetimes would be more entertaining than one episode.

What if life situations were re-run, changing variable values on each iteration to see what happens?

A good name for the first off-world city would be Terminus 1.

In the unending echo of my thoughts, you reside, An artist who paints on the expansive canvas of my mind. Threads of reason unravel, thoughts dance in an uncontrolled sway, And from this chaotic ballet, a melody of madness begins to play.