It is the witching time of year
When my neighbour with chainsaw grins ear to ear
He says he does it for the kids to have a laugh
As he jumps from behind bushes onto the path
The saw he revs as the children scream
It happens every Halloween
What does it take to your spirit awake?
Do you – your inner drive tend to forsake?
We get so caught up with the things so surface
Superficial things we embrace in surplus
But there is so much more upon to focus
Those things that makes us – the real us
Gold, orange, red on the horizon arrayed
And with each passing breeze they begin their cascade
Making a carpet of autumn hues
Crunching underneath our passing shoes
The beauty of nature wondrously displayed
As children await the raking,
So in the piled leaves they can wade
I walked into the only café that seemed to be open on the strip. The place was a little over the top considering the seedy neighbourhood. Why might a harbour district coffee shop need marble tabletops and a crystal chandelier? The menu too was out of place with Eggs Benedict and French croissants on offer. All in all, it was a bit disappointing as all I wanted was a cup of coffee and a ring doughnut to dunk.
Fellow travellers, what brings you this way?
Far from what is familiar to my day-to-day
I know you’re familiar to what surrounds
But for me, my mind it does confound
Are you outward? Or going home?
For me it’s all strange – this land you roam
But my time here was be all too short
As this taxi takes me to the airport
a lone journey traveled solitary inward thoughts upon which to dwell pensive
Welcome to our free lunch
Don’t forget to make payment
No need to respond
Just make a statement
Feel free to stay
But do not linger
Take all that you can
But leave all you bring here
When I was in digits single
Which is rather new
These are some things I learned as true
Don’t pull hair or eat the glue
And share with others
When extra cookies are given to you
Image credit Denman Prospect Village
Where are those boundaries?
They seem lost
A world with no frontiers
As far as the eye can see
Man made objects seem to appear
Be it a road, or telephone mast
They come into view all too fast
Our scenes of yesterday
Have long since past
wishes over hastily made for the consequences unfortunate may prove
🔮 What You Wish For? 🔮 Use the theme above to write your choice of syllabic poem.