It ended as suddenly as it began
and like most things in life
it wasn’t according to plan.
That moment is etched deep in my brain
and living it a million times over,
from your charm I still could not refrain.
But now, this new beginning has begun
and perhaps my heart will return,
battered and bruised, but far from done.
I hear the words, “five more minutes,”
and I know that I have ten
since each time they say that
I know they’ve lied again.
So I put on my sad face
and sulk away to bed
pretending to believe them
while the plot forms in my head.
Well, on my way to slumber
I’ll claim that I got lost
and rip that carpet up
no matter what the cost.
Counting down the minutes
I hear the doorknob click
and think, they didn’t lie!
or perhaps this is a trick.
So I stop my deviant behavior
and bring back those sad, sad eyes
knowing that a treat will come
because I’ve got my good girl disguise.
If there were enough hours in the day,
would we cherish the ones we’ve got
or like the spoiled children,
would we leave them out to rot.
The steam from my coffee
is the only movement I see
yet the birds outside my window
are chirping with glee.
Soon the day will break
and my coffee will not steam
but bees will be buzzing by
working hard for their regime.
I enjoy the peaceful moment
and sip my coffee for a while
until my arms find you yet again
and my heart can feel you smile.
The air is crisp
and the night is still;
we wait in silence
and study drill.
The field is empty
waiting for us to fill
the crisp air with music
and our hearts with thrill.
We find our spots
and scatter on the field
the first notes come to life
and to the drums we yield.
Our instruments, our weapons
which we so proudly wield
unstoppable we are together
with a wall of sound as our shield.
A soft patter falls on our heads,
mother nature’s will.
This heavy fog cannot
our good nature kill.
As the final note rings out
we retreat with expert skill
and leave the air ever crisp
and the night forever still.
The circle goes ’round
as your circuits become fried
for a file not found.
Words do not begin to explain
the feelings in my heart and brain.
–
The kindness bestowed upon me
whether I am worthy or not
is one that warms the heart
and is sure not to be forgot.
–
The bard himself knew too well
there are no other words to say
that capture what I need to tell.
–
So whether it be one day of the year
or every other one in between
know that my heart is forever full
of a love that is both felt and seen.
–
Thanks, is the answer I make
as my gratitude is yours to take.
The water bubbles just below
and I slam the lid back down
hoping to prevent overflow
of this anger in which I drown.
So it’s hot you say
but do I really care?
All this noise you make
does not seem very fair.
I am perfectly content
sweltering under all this fur
so don’t turn that fan on me,
turn it back to her.
Busy bees buzzing around
move morbidly slow
compared to the constant
pitter-patter presently
beating in my battered heart.
Autumn Siders 