Buck up

Days come to an end, dreams don't. There's miles to go before we sleep...

Twilight,
wild wings
seek sheltered nook.

Fledglings,
back home,
await their gifts.

Disquieting,
lurking what-ifs
raise their heads.

Unheeding
sunset ahead,
deferred dreams instigate.

Hurrah!
some elbow-grease,
you’re almost there.

Linking with

Flavors of Robert Frost and Langston Hughes in this post

Welfare unto all 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Boxes of desire

Boxes of desires rotting

in the dusty corners of the heart,

silently withering

under the load of odd everyday jobs.

Occasionally they raise their heads,

every once in a while,

like ripe buds, ready to blossom,

but mercilessly we nip them.

Right there, right then.

Asking them to wait,

for the most opportune moment.

And like the abstract mirage of the desert,

that befitting twinkling keeps eluding us.

Boxes of desire keep piling,

one above the other.

Eventually, at the eventide of life,

they glare at us,

our bucket lists, nullified, neutralized.

No voice, no echo, no timbre, no influence.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook :100 words : Boxes

Baby steps

Small strides on a rough path
strewn with fireflies.
Small steps that lead
to beautiful roads, over the time.
Small short steps
that brought us this far.
Baby paced, each day, we walk
with a hope
that we will reach the destination,
that alluring terminus
which keeps us awake most nights.
Small baby steps each single day
praying all the while
that we walk in the right direction,
striving to carve our niche,
howsoever small,
in this majestic expanse.
Walking slowly
underneath the umbrellas
of very many blessings
feeling the bliss, living the moment.
Tiptoeing,
lest the harmony is disrupted.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Linking with Friday Fictioneers

Here and now

Hoarding up,
stacking up the moments
in a cask
sealed with a Harrison nine-lever lock,
safeguarding and saving them
for an opportune moment.
But what if that moment never arrives?
What if all that we are given
is here and now?
When will we open the casket?
Will the treasures inside stay?
Or will they wither and wilt?
The remnants decaying and rotting;
Ruins of the days gone past
mocking us
for the right time.
“Now” is the miracle.
“Now” is the secret.
“Now” is all that you are given.
So why hoard?
Why save for an un-guaranteed “then”?
Hear!

Linking wihh Thin Spiral Notebook :100 word challenge : save

B is for ... Bucket Lists

There hang in my heart,
My bucket lists. Yes! There
In my heart and not on walls,
My "To Do before I Die" lists.
Of all sorts. A little ambition, some dreams,
Part contentment, part insatiable appetite.
Some things crossed with passing days,
More to cross off. Many to chose from.
Always incomplete,
The bucket lists ever growing,
The checklists of wonderful things that
I will accomplish some day. One day.
Before I die. Before this mortal dust
Withers away.
And I thank God with
All my heart for all this healthy yearning
He blessed me with. These lists, that keep me
Bursting with vigor. I enjoy ticking off the
Boxes from my lists, collecting souvenirs
The life has to offer.
I am alive. I have bucket lists.
And I am grateful for that.
Thank you God!