Tuesday, July 7, 2009

She never looked before

She'd walked the old familiar path
A hundred times or more
Now she trudges mindlessly
Tunes out the ocean's roar
She walks into a tussling wind
That blows and shreds her hair
But doesn't touch, cannot reach
A heart that isn't there.

She finally got the answers
To questions long delayed
If she could only take them back
For she has been betrayed
From future bright and hopeful
To clarity achieved
From life not tried or tasted
To bitter truth received.

Today she walks the path again
And breathes the cool sea air
She sees the trees that hem her in
Bleached sentries standing there
She sees a turtle on a log
The churning water foam
She sees the skittish little fish
The gator turned to stone.

She feels the spray upon her face
A salty pleasant sting
And looking up an eagle soars
A heron takes to wing
Never has she seen all this
She turns to face the shore
Amazed at gifts she'd somehow missed
She never looked before.

Copyright © by Jacob Anson 2006 & 2009. All rights reserved.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Handling things weekly

(This poem is dedicated to all my friends still working 9 to 5)

Friday comes and
Friday goes and
Friday comes
Days are mere
That I too freely

Monday dawns
I failed to do
The weekend things
I'd planned.
The other days
Just fly on by
And Friday's here

Life rushes past
Much too fast
It's really quite
A pain.
'Cause ev'ry time
I look around
Friday's back

That's okay
I'll handle it
I'll welcome Friday
I'll call in sick
And crawl my way
Right back into
The sack!

(Copyright © 2006 & 2009 by Jacob Anson. Image © 2009 by its licensor. All rights reserved.)