This week we are invited to think of a deck of cards and choose the suit which will lead to our poems. I know the one which ever suits me, as I am always playing a game of Hearts.
Mid-summer
Our friends back east are very clear
about what matters, what is dear;
it’s family, and friends who matter so,
kept close at hand, in hearts, so near.
But the humidity’s too high, this I know.
I have promised no sweating, not ever, no.
I have rays to catch, snowbirds to tease,
I have rays to catch, a tan to show.
We’ve grown accustomed to the sun,
we feel entitled, everyone.
The nights, while cooler, still hold their cheer,
no holding back the mid-year fun.
This city mine, for a decade now
is making its most seasoned bow
to guests and locals, everyone,
its sandy beaches and sunshine, wow.
😎
Late Summer, Early Fall
When old age arrives,
every body’s in the same boat.
Not so our hearts.
Can’t see what’s next,
but I’m eager to trade
history for mystery.
Every day, I am
invited to give and forgive.
I like this.
Breathing in, I see
I am living in Grace.
Breathing out, I’m grateful.
😇
Autumn of My Years
A thought arises, lingers not, departs,
as our summer too soon becomes the fall.
This is true in writing, in all the arts.
A thought arises, lingers not, departs.
We must soon act on what is in our hearts,
lest we would forget, lose our soul, our all.
A thought arises, lingers not, departs,
as our summer too soon becomes the fall.
🥰
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