I hope I’m promoting a good time,
That creates a memory sublime.
With visit that flows,
Who knows where it goes?
Most likely connection that is prime.
Some years I’ve abstained from connecting.
Thought it a chore, not respecting,
The mutual gain,
Connecting makes plain.
I know now this calls for correcting.
The season has come to see tree-bones
Leaves fall and are gone without tree-groans.
We never have heard
It’s being deferred.
The cycle takes place in all tree-zones.
Surrounded with hard expectation,
A season can prompt abdication.
What if you name one,
As THE time of Fun?
Adopt it as your variation.
Regardless of which way you’re going,
The wind’s Very Real in its blowing.
It moves you ahead,
Or stalls you instead.
Your trip’s very Hard or it’s Flowing.
I’m out for a wonderful-ride day,
A beautiful pedal-and-glide day.
It really is swell
When all’s going well.
A happiness-potion applied-day.
You sit on your bike on your bottom
Viewing surroundings of autumn.
Some changes in sight,
With colors, though slight.
You’re happy your viewing has caught ‘em!
When someone has joined you in singing,
It’s far more than simply “sound-slinging.”
While singing your part,
It’s truly a start.
Connecting with joyful “sound-ringing.”
Just what is the question you’re asking?
Just what is the thought that it’s masking?
Will thinking go deep?
Will it make you keep
New outlook regarding your “tasking”?
We’ve shared many years being married.
Some were smooth-as-silk and some harried,
We’ve come to love more
Than ever before.
And learned—life is really quite varied.
The gift when my days are Bright-Shiny,
Contrasts with a day Dark-and-Whiney.
Delight—I can feel.
Gratitude—real.
By noticing gifts, Large or Tiny.
I pulled out the spice in the “C” spot,
Without taking heed of what-I-got.
I put in the spice,
I didn’t “sniff twice”.
My cinnamon soup is a New Lot!
Continue reading