spring

Winter’s End

All the wonders are tied up

Busy at the moment

And there isn’t enough time

Time to contemplate

Time to pine

For the answers

To the questions

Which we never really want to hear

The days will move onward

March towards the deafening end

Where sight and sound

No longer mean anything

And all thoughts, both good and bad

And free-floating

In pools of turmoil, but surrounded in bliss

Float like mindless ways

And pass everything along

For these are the numbered

The many

And the oh-so few

Just like the waves

Just like the music

Just like that fat old sun

And all the brightness

Of this once glorious day

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Springtime

The days of summer are all gone

Winter is fast upon us

What will we do?

This is when life slows down

Life become less interesting, less boring

Nights are longer than the days

I’m thankful for that

But really only means more time spent in the dark

Life isn’t any better

The holidays will soon come and go

After that we play the game

The game of waiting

The oh-so-long waiting game

Those excruciating days and nights until spring

When the beach calls to us, again

When we can spend countless hours in the sun

Drifting aimlessly on the boats

And talking of the days ahead

The days when it will be much too hot

Too hot to move or get anything done

Maybe it’s hopeless

Maybe I just like springtime too much

© Dicky J Loweman 2014