Get Ready!

Get ready to hear:
"I haven't done such and such
All year."

Get ready to cringe,
Because our neighbors will
Most likely binge.

Get ready, for you know,
This time of year only comes around
Every 365 days or so.

Get ready, it's not so bad,
One thing ends, another begins,
It's what's to be had.

Get ready (again) to hear,
That I'm glad I get to spend with you
Another wonderful year.

 

Midway

The center of things, I find, are best.
Like when you reach the center of something good:
You've gotten halfway there pleasantly,
And the rest, pleasantly, you should.

And when you're up against something bad,
And you reach that center mark,
You know you've only got halfway to go,
Before it's a walk in the park.

And if things are mediocre,
Or any other shade of medi-orange/yellow,
You've only got halfway more
Before you, in boredom, bellow.

So, halfway there, good bad or otherwise,
Can be a boon in itself,
But getting halfway there with you
Is where I find true wealth.

 

Three Day Bleakend

There are times I'm glad I have
A break from work,
But then when I come back,
What's this: more stuff!

And then, with all the work piled up,
I'm backlogged.
I could definitely, maybe,
Use another vacation.

A post-vacation vacation,
What I need.
But then, when I got back,
What then?

Another vacation, on top of that.
A post-vacation-vacation vacation.
Or a post-post-vacation vacation.
At least I'd get to spend it with you...

Last Break

Normally, a case of Mondays
Will ruin the complete set of Fundays.
But Monday, when you have a break,
Is a precious joy you must CERTAINLY take.

A rest, respite, a break, such peace,
To do what I want, when I want, how I please,
Provided it's okay with you-know-who,
The joy of my life, my sweetie-weetie-boo.

And together, we'll venture out into the world
And with each step, another mystery unfurled,
Like, if you spend too much time inside,
You'll soon feel over burdened outdoors, and wish to hide.

But hide or hair, or anything else,
I'll stay with her until the world's ice melts,
And then some, because, you know,
I kinda like her, and I love her so.

Breakcrate Day

Finally! A day alone!
A day that I may call "my own."
Well, not alone as in "by myself."
But alone. No relatives or elves on the shelf.

We have this time, here, now,
To relax, to rest, to eat roasted cow,
To wallow and wade through tinsel and foil,
As if it were Merriment's fertile soil.

And then we sort, and order, and sort,
The piles of things not growing short,
And to each pigeon gets a pigeon hole,
And to each corpus goes a spirit or a soul.

Last and not least, let us always remember
That such joy and relaxation happens each December,
And what really counts, after all, in the end,
Is the people (or person) with whom this time you spend.

Breaksing Day

And with that, the steam is gone
The air let out, the lining lon.
The goose is nothing more now but gristle
And grease and down, and maybe a thistle.

But, hey the stores are open now,
And we can go out and shop around,
Or return those things we didn't like,
Assuming we don't mind the hike.

But candles gone, one thing remains,
And it is not the bowl of Breakmas grains.
It is instead the family, kin,
Without whom I could not begin.

Family is there to help you out,
And give you light when all is doubt.
There is one such member I owe my life,
And that is her: my splendid wife.

Breakmas

Ring the bells,
If you're feeling s'wells.
Jingle chimes,
And wrangle mimes!

It's the time of year
When friends and family are near,
And when grinches and scrooges
Find that if they don't alter their ways, they loses.

And yes! At last,
A feast! Repast!
And while everything's closed,
You don't have to go into work, which is good, I supposed.

So bang the clangor,
And clang in Bangor,
And let the winter snow.
It comes around once a year, but soon, it has to go!

Breakmas Eve

And as the old, cold
Yuletide draws ever so near,
I'm glad I have my friend,
My companion, my dear.

The warmth we share,
The ways we care,
Like a simple prayer,
A vigil, or a snare.

And I'm caught,
A prisoner of love,
A captive in a gaol,
Free as a dove.

I remember the reason,
The reason for the season:
To be with those you love,
And to be filled with pleasin'.

Break, Part 2

A second day I have
And it's better than the first.
It's the perfect time of day,
So good, it can't get worse.

And not because it's bad,
But because it's a joy
That I get to spend time with my girl,
And she spends time with her boy.

And while one day is gone,
Many days still remain,
And I wish for each and every one
To never have love refrain.

This time is great, it's priceless,
I love every moment,
Because your love is soothing, soft,
And for my heart, a foment.

Break, Part 1

I'm glad, I'm glad
I get to take
A lengthy, needed,
Wanted break.

And with this break,
I get to spend
Some time with a girl
I wish to never end.

Rest, recuperation,
Relaxation,
All these I need
For my Vacation.

And then, there's time
We spend together,
The kinds of time
That should last forever.

Work One More

One day, I have,
To work the soil,
To labor,
To toil.

And then, what's this?
A sevenight off?
A laugh! A cheer.
But not a scoff.

Time is precious,
And precious is time,
When spent with somebody
For whom I pine.

And my precious is spent
With time here with me.
It doesn't have to make sense.
I'm free! I'm free!

A Madness

There is a method
When there is a madness,
And it fills the heart
With mirth and gladness.

There a method is
When madness appears
That takes away sadness,
Sobs and fears.

A method there is
When madness is nigh:
Makes one feel good
Enough to fly.

Is there a method
For when madness is around,
So we can take our time
And lose what's not found?

Break Breaking

A break that is broke
Is still a break,
As it gives you time off
For you to take.

And if a break broke,
It hasn't broke the bank,
As vacation is a-plenty,
No sickness to thank.

And this time is best,
When it's best spent together,
Indoors, inside,
Away from the weather.

I enjoy my breaks,
For a break is to be taken
When we're both in danger
Of getting quite breaken.

Mouthurty

You know: it should be against the law
For things to come and hurt your jaw!
And any doctor who says otherwise is quacking,
Or just wants to keep you from yakking.

After all, it would be a bore,
If everybody's jaw suddenly got sore.
And, man, how far would you have to walk
Just to find someone who could talk?

I hope that your pain is overcome,
As though you do like to talk, I don't like you overdumb.
While other husbands would praising their gods with a flute,
I know I couldn't stand to have a wife, mute.

So, I really hope that whatever it is
Gets gone soon, so that I can kiss
My wife, and also so she can grace me with words,
And not just whistle and click like a flock of birds.

 

Lonely

When you don't get
Calls on the phone,
I bet it makes you
Feel alone.

And when you don't get
A little e-mail,
I bet I know
Just how you feel.

Terrible.

I'm sorry that
I get caught in a daze
And forget to send
Kind notes your ways.

I'm sorry that
I forgot again,
And made you feel
Anew, the pain.

Horrible.

Struck Luck

A flight, a feather,
An arrow, a quiver,
A bow, an archer,
A heart. Struck.

A coin, a penny,
A horseshoe, a cricket,
A rabbit's foot,
A clover. Luck.

Candy, chocolate,
Marshmallows, sugar,
Cocoa, caramel,
Molasses. Sweet.

Beating, bleeding,

Pulsing, needing,

Churning, burning,

Turning. Heart.

Feathers

I may like to wear some leather,
But I wouldn't wear some feather.
Nor would I pluck and pull
One for a quill.

I understand the need
To have the feathers preened,
And realize it's a must:
To keep them free of dust.

Without the feathers your wing
Will flap, and whine, and sing,
But you'll still be on the ground
Where danger can abound.

So, in order to keep you aflutter,
I'd sooner rather stutter
Than take a feather key
To aid in speech therapy.

Taking Flight

You will find yourself alight
When you leap and take that flight.
You will find that you can soar
(And it's mostly not a bore).

One thing you must try,
The next time you fly,
Is to shoot for the stars,
Or weave around those flashy cars.

Or, to take it easy, take it light,
You could take a simply flight.
You could fly around the block,
Or make a nest in the corner clock.

As long as you're back here soon,
Preferably by noon,
So that we can have our lunch!
Munch, munch, munch, munch, munch.

Birdsong

Tweet, tweet, the song,
It goes.
And like a mighty river,
It surrounds. It flows.

The feathers flutter downward
With each tiny gust
And the birdsong chases after
Like it always must.

The whistles cut through air
And they reach me near, or far,
Supplanting the squawks or squalor
Of the radio in my car.

And the birdsong is my favorite.
I hold it high above,
For the birdsong sings sweetly
Of my Little Bird's love.

Little Bird

Little Bird, fly
Fly so high
Into the sky.
Fly, fly, fly.

Little Bird, don't forget
To sometimes land.
And here's my hand
(Though I don't demand).

And Little Bird, eat!
Eat your birdy food,
Eat it. It is good.
It gives nourishment you need.

Little Bird, when you fly,
Don't be gone for long,
For at times I miss your song.
Please return before the gong.

One More Day

I've made up my mind!
I've decided to say:
I'll only love you
For one more day.

But don't get me wrong!
Don't take it that way,
'Cause what you might be thinking is:
"Only one day."

That's not the point,
So you need not try to sway
Me to declare that
I'll love you for more than one day.

For when tomorrow is today
And today is yesterday,
I'll love you again
For one more day.

Don't Fret!

When the little stresses of life
Pile up on you, and load you with strife,
Just remember, sweet little wife:
Don't fret.

When things seem like they're all falling down,
And you've received a bowl in exchange for your crown,
Before you let yourself start to frown:
Don't fret.

Life will have its downs and ups,
Sometimes we're thirsty, with empty cups,
And other times they're flowing over,
And, what's this? A four-leaf-clover?

The bad times come, but then they're gone,
And there's no need to keep hanging on,
'Cause we know that causes us to sour,
We shouldn't be giving such things such power.

So, when those little annoyances are strong,
Just remember this simple little song,
And pretty soon, you'll be singing along:
Don't fret!

Encore

"Encore," they say, when they mean "Go again."
Another round is always welcome
When the performance isn't lacking.
Especially when the performer melts your heart.

"Once more! Brava!" You'll hear me shout.
The words will echo in the halls,
And the echoes will ring the tiny bells,
Jangling the song in my heart.

And then, an encore. What fun is this!
I never imagined that such a day
Could be complimented by entertainment
Happening twice, so nice.

I'm glad that I have a private stage,
As I am very jealous.
But I know that you don't blame me.
You'd feel the same way. "Encore."

 

Missing Flavor

There is a flavoring
For which I'm cravoring.
I wonder what it is,
Or where to get it.

Is it something from the store?
Why no! What a bore.
But it's something familiar.
Have I met it?

Maybe I'll take a seat
At the restaurant down the street,
And wait for that
Simple little flavor.

Or maybe it's at home,
When I'm not there alone,
And the meal I'm craving
Is one to savor.

A Freedom in Itself

And with that, since you're free,
You can fly away, over the sea,
Or to the cloud wall, through it, in it,
Only to learn that the sky's the limit.

The shackle is gone
Little papillon,
And you're no longer anchored to life
(Though I must say, please stay and continue to be my wife).

And in those clouds,
Do what you're allowed
(Which is anything you like).
Don't feel like you have to succumb to early woes, be on strike!

In your freedom, reach for the stars,
They're out there to be grabbed, and held, so far.
And when you grab one, think of me,
Who worked so hard to help you be free.

Right in Place

It's neat when things fall right in place,
And all of a sudden, you're done cleaning your place.
The whole house is clean, now what do we do?
I guess you could spend time with me, and I with you.

There's something to be said about those times
When there's nothing to do, but we're still tryin'
To figure out what needs to be done
Before we allow ourselves to have fun.

So, we look to the chart, and see what's left on it,
Be it washing the cats or brushing the bonnet,
Or washing the dishes, or cleaning the clothes,
Or juggling hedgehogs, or contemplating a nose.

And when all is finished, there's a quiet lull,
And I look to you, and I feel a pull
To say something, anything, whatever's worth it,
But I'm overcome, at times, by your beauty. Perfect.

Winter Chills

The winter chills, they do grow cold,
Making one shake as if one were old.
The chills may freeze, and their winds waft,
And make us all feel like there's a bit of a draft.

That's why I'm glad that I have yous,
'Cause together we've got those BTUs,
And when the cold becomes epidermal,
We also have sheets, and clothes thermal.

But if my dear begins to shiver,
With Jack Frosts' arrows plentiful in his quiver,
I'll take away every last chill,
Even if I have to seal the window sill.

And once our home is nice and toasty,
And you're feeling warm and roasty,
We won't need to worry about a little snow,
Or if it gets to be something below.

Freedom!

Done! What fun!
No longer do you need to run.
Nor do you need to feel the pressure,
As now you're done. It's lesser and lesser.

You can take a break,
Catch up on things for things' sake.
You can drink tea with a little pixie,
Or follow a ring with a hobbit tricksy.

You could even, you know, make some art,
And without worrying about a grade. A la carte!
And draw, and scribble, and doodle,
Or paint, or make a topiary poodle.

You're free! You're free! Don't scoff.
The chains have fallen right off,
And you've earned this time, this rest.
I certainly hope that it is the best.

Last Lap

It's the last lap, and there's the end.
You're almost there, it's not pretend.
The tape is ready now, to be broken,
A symbol of accomplishment. A token.

And now, you have a lengthy break
That's completely yours, dare you take.
Some rest, some relaxation, some time to heal,
And to get things in order, and determine how you feel.

But, wow! Can you believe it? You're done!
I hope you're ready for a little fun.
I hope you've got yourself ready to have
Some time off to enjoy and laugh.

I'm proud of you. I really am!
I'm so glad you made it here again.
I certainly hope, without any fetter,
That your next round of classes will be much better.

Eagle Wings

You're running down the track now,
Your chariot is on fire,
And you can see the finish tape,
And your muscle's are on fire.

How many miles left to go?
How many yards?
How many have you traveled
On this trip, ever so hard?

Just two more days to go,
And your marathon will be best,
For you'll get at least a few days
To catch up on your rest.

But right now, on winged heels,
You sprint along the ground,
And I'm here beside you,
Ready to catch, if you fall down.

Secret Museum

There is a secret museum
Whose location is unknown
To many who may try to find it.
They are not alone.

Journey to find it,
And if you don't have a guide,
You'll probably not notice it,
As it tends to hide.

I'd like to change the museum,
Tear down the pickets,
Open up the doors,
And start selling tickets.

But this museum is hidden
In a secluded part
(Though it displays your art).
It's stuck there, in my heart.