Someone keeps stealing my lemons.
I want to make lemonade but they’ve spoiled.
The rinds are off
and I can’t find the sugar.
The juice from the lemons is not just sour
but old, off.
No amount of sugar can sweeten this juice.
So don’t tell me to make lemonade
when life gives me lemons.
Your yard is mess.
You ran a red light.
You said a racist remark.
You touched her when you should not have.
You are wearing the wrong clothes.
You are trespassing.
You are wrong.
Just wrong.
You are only human
and things will get better.
The air is quiet.
A neighbour lets out his dogs
to do their morning business.
It is peaceful
and somehow
the coffee tastes better
when you sit outside.
He sits
or lays
outside
watching
for any
intruders
into his
domain.
Then with
Hisses
and an
arched back
he tries
valiantly
to scare
them away.
I usually
have to rescue him.
Driving a neighbour to the hospital.
Preparing a lasagna for an elderly friend.
Knitting dishcloths to give away randomly.
Smiling kindly at a stranger.
Telling someone you love their colourful socks.
Offering a hug to the one who needs it most.
We have already moved into Summer
yet our Spring has not fully come into season.
The months are still in sync
but mother nature is not.
So I guess I will enjoy my coffee
and sit in the warmth of the sun
while it lasts.
In the wild
they are excellent
at getting food.
In the wild
they are known
to be fierce fighters
and will defend
themselves and their offspring.
In the wild
we glimpse them
before they bound off.
In the wild
if you see a rabbit
RUN!
Draw a bath
Call a friend
Take some deep breaths
Enjoy a cup of Tea
Take a walk
Read a book
Take a nap
Do a little dance
Write a poem
Draw a silly sketch
Love yourself
and be Mindful of others
The memory of campfire
Watching the fire blaze
Smelling the cooking hotdogs
Or roasted to blackness marshmallows.
The underlying smell of the woods surrounding us.
Pine, maple, birch and the elusive yet pungent scent of cedar.
To this day it reminds me of my youth
And the simpler times when I had no responsibilities.
They demand to be fed.
They refuse to clean up their messes.
They insist you play with them.
They talk back to you.
They invade your personal space.
They interfere with your sleep.
They make you crazy
And you love them for it.
Saturn's Premier Poet 