Everything Has An Expiration

Aren’t you glad you didn’t know,
It would be the last time,
Wouldn’t you agree,
It would have taken away from the shine?

It’s terribly terrible,
And horrifically horrible,
Now that it’s gone,
But knowing when it would go,
Would have even,
Intensified the blow.

For it would have prevented,
That last lovely memory,
Which is now worth more,
Than any money.

It’s a sad, sad world,
Where nothing lasts,
And no one knows when what’s now,
Will become a thing of the past.

Things,
Unfortunately,
Seem meant to die,
But why?

Maybe it’s because,
It wasn’t meant to happen,
It had broken invisible laws,
And brought about out of sight applause.

Or maybe it’s because,
Of unseen meddling,
It was truly God’s plan,
But ruined as consequence,
Of unholy Man.

Or possibly because,
It had served its purpose,
And had to move on,
To another circus.

**********
But you ought to believe,
It was the end of an era,
And around the next bend,
Lies a much better end.
**********

Your Salvation

It doesn’t follow fashion,
Or change with the times,
A piece that can be paired,
With this or that,
To even satisfy,
A spoiled brat.

Beauty that cannot be broken,
Such a precious token,
Something to be treasured always,
At which you can,
Repeatedly gaze.

Ageless really,
Without a shadow of a doubt,
Never wearing out,
Not ruined by,
Passage of time,
Going on and on forever,
And stopping never.

Lovely then,
And lovelier now,
Truly deserving,
Of a bow.
A real classic,
Sometimes rustic,
And sometimes fancy,
But forever fantastic.

It’s magnificence,
Will never cease,
Love for it,
Will not decrease,
From great-great-grandma,
To great-great-neice.

Eternally sought after,
More so than love or money,
With it even salty situations,
Seem a little sunny.

Timeless,
It’s essential,
You wouldn’t trade it for the world,
It will always have potential,
There’ll never be a need,
To throw it away,
Even when,
You’ve become old and grey.

Diabolical Agenda

A pretty face,
How does she act,
In such disgrace?

So very sweet,
But hated,
For those moments she acts,
With complete deceit.

Nothing can hold a candle,
To when she flies off the handle,
So glad she’s not the norm,
For she is a God-awful,
Wicked form of storm.

Fake as fuck,
And slimy like,
The fingers of,
A little tyke,
She needs to take a hike.

Pretending to be,
Such a honey,
But she’s got something hidden,
On her back,
That makes her mean,
As lucifer’s queen.

So sneaky,
Don’t ever get too close,
That pleasantry is false,
Just waltz right by,
For she’s looking for information,
To use against you,
On the sly.

To sum it up,
She’s a waste of space,
Who needs to learn her place.

Easter, Taken Seriously

**********
A long, long time ago,
A man-child was born,
Until he died,
Just a few decades later,
Crucified,
His head adorned,
With the crown of thorns.

But he was only dead,
For three short days,
He came to be,
Alive again,
And now to this day,
For the saved’s sins he pays.
**********

Free?
Free is for me!
That’s what they all say,
Until it comes to the deed,
That happened that day,
At Mount Calvary.

Then instantly,
It’s question this,
And argue that,
I’ve never seen such hesitancy,
For something completely free.

It’s uncanny,
Weird indeed,
This requirement of proof,
People need to concede,
That this ordeal,
Happened for real.

So disgraceful,
And undisputably unacceptable,
Misunderstanding this day,
As meant for that rabbit,
Rather than this lamb,
Will see you damned.

Oh the chicks are cute,
But can they give you,
A new life to boot?
Who doesn’t like a beautiful basket,
Full to overflowing with chocolate?
But will it get you,
Life beyond the casket?

**********
Think, think, think!
Life isn’t short,
Truth be told,
It’s very long,
Not gone in a blink,
Like you’ve been programmed to think,
But it’s lived mostly,
On the other side of the veil,
Spent in Heaven,
If here on Earth,
We prevail.

Going once,
Going twice,
Salvation is nice,
Won’t you accept it tonight?
**********

The Invisible Ones

The misfits mesh with me,
I like that fire,
Strong as a sting,
From a honey bee.

It doesn’t get quenched,
It can quiet,
But hidden embers,
Are always there,
Waiting to stir the air.

The misfits mesh with me,
The freaks and the geeks,
So much more desirable,
Than the cool ones,
Whose lips leak cheek.

Their hair has flair,
They mean what they say,
Their speak isn’t weak,
No matter what,
Day of the week,
Or what mood,
Churns in their gut.

The misfits mesh with me,
I see their personality,
Making others hide and flee,
But it makes me laugh with glee.

It’s so delightful,
And I don’t care,
Who toward them is spiteful,
That sarcasm,
With me won’t cause a chasm.

The misfits mesh with me,
And for this I am not sorry,
Rather than full of things angry,
Their eyes hold pain,
And are starry.

The difference between,
Them and the popular,
Is really nothing,
Except which demons and such,
Bother them much.

Brand New Year

By this time next year,
May it all have came to pass,
By this time next year,
May tears have turned to laughs.

The doors that need to open,
And the doors that need to shut,
May they swing in the right direction,
To spring you out of your rut,
And knock bad on its ass.

The ones that need to come,
And the ones that need to go,
May they make their presence known,
In with the chums,
And out with the scum.

The demons plaguing you,
And the angels protecting you,
May they align with God’s plan,
For you to seek deliverance from devils,
And become a willing vessel.

The bad cravings,
And the good inclinations,
May they take their proper place,
The good becoming concrete,
And the bad sprouting feet.

The things you love,
And the things you hate,
May they not affect you unfavorably,
Your loves being beneficial,
And your hates not interfering with fate.

The Unicorn

For as long as anyone could remember,
It’s said a unicorn,
Has lived on the mountain yonder.

When was he born?
And would he ever die?
Was he maybe a myth?
No that can’t be,
Because some say he’s been seen,
And not just in visions and dreams.

He’s said to be really pretty,
With chocolate hair,
And flaxen points,
With the added flair,
Of a glittery silver horn,
Poking out from the forelock,
That is rare.

Some say they’ve seen him,
In the settlement,
At the bottom of the mountain,
Parading through the streets,
On his four fancy feet.

Legs lifted high,
As he trots,
Hoofs that match his horn,
Pound the pavement,
Each and every morn.

Or so they say,
But it’s happened that multiple people,
Have been in the same place,
At the same time,
And while some swear he whipped by,
Others saw nothing,
And say with an eye roll,
And a sigh,
“They must have been high”.

Many were sitting outside,
At the cafe,
On a morning kind of gray,
When one of the aged,
Said to her grandchild,
“Look at that horse!
It’s that one from the mountain,
Said to be wild”!

But……….
“What horse”?
Asked the small girl,
Standing in her chair,
Hoping for a glimpse,
Of that horse of course.

“That one”!
Exclaimed a young man,
One table over,
“See, he’s just stopped!
Check him out,
Before he runs”!

Now the whole patio,
Was in a turmoil,
Three more could see,
But no others,
And there must have been at least thirty.

The little girl,
Still could not see,
And told grandma stubbornly,
“Your advanced age,
Must be making you crazy”.

“For I,
Not yet quite nine,
Have sight far better than yours,
Which I’m sure is fine,
But definitely no better than mine,
So come now,
Sit down and dine”.

But grandma ignored the child,
For all the five,
Who could see,
Were torn between,
Laughing with glee,
And wanting to turn and flee.

Because the unicorn,
Was a sight to see,
Flaring his nostrils,
And pawing the ground,
After rearing up,
Then coming down,
But his eyes seemed more docile,
Than hostile,
It seemed he was having fun,
Watching the goings on,
Then just like that,
He turned and again,
Began to run.

“Oh look at the tail”!
Shrieked a little boy,
One of the seers,
“It looks six feet long”!
“Yes! It’s marvelous indeed”!
Grandma agreed.

The twenty-plus,
Who saw nothing,
Didn’t know what to think,
So soon all,
Ceased to speak.

Poor them,
Blind to the unseen realm,
Yes they were,
The majority,
But wrong they were,
And thankfully,
Didn’t cause a stir.

Now back up on the mountain,
The unicorn headed,
So he could get rested,
It was always so tiring,
After a morning run,
But it was also fun,
The reactions of the peoples,
While running through their streets,
Past shops,
And places to eat,
Placed among schools with bells,
And churches with steeples.

The unicorn,
Whose name,
By the way,
Was Horn,
Didn’t realize,
That most of the peoples,
To him were blind.

He got a kick,
Out of the excitement he caused,
Not understanding,
That a debate,
Had been ongoing,
Between those who had insistence,
Of his existence,
And those who had persistence,
That he was a fable,
Made to entertain,
At bedtimes and dinner tables.

He just knew,
That everyone became unbridled,
When he strolled through the city,
Yes it caused a commotion,
That made him laugh,
As he played it in his head,
All day in slow motion.

The tale of Horn,
Will continue to be told,
Throughout circles,
Both young and old,
Most believing it fiction,
But an esteemed few,
Know that it’s true.

All In Good Time

Good things are happening,
In the realm of the spirits,
It won’t be long now,
Before it reaches our world,
Where I can feel it.

A mind overworked,
By sadness and stress,
But small steps,
Lead to total deliverance,
From the grips,
Of the one most vile.

Tiny things,
Are noticeable now,
Nowhere near,
Where they should be,
But breakthrough enough,
To stop a lot of tears and fears.

A dream here,
A miracle there,
All are answers,
To one of many things,
Lifted up in prayer.

Upon close examination,
Of many occasions,
Lots of things,
Were looking dreary,
Until recently,
Some things started turning,
Toward a new and sunny morning.

Even prayer,
Can hit a snare,
And need an extra boost,
But add liberal donations,
Coupled with a fast,
And it’s a surefire way,
To set stubborn demons loose.

The clouds have opened,
And a drizzle has begun,
Someday soon,
They will let loose,
Like a loaded gun,
And all around,
Wherever I go,
Blessings will soak me,
From head to toe.

Old Fashioned Winter Wonderland

The iridescent sparkles,
Shining off an icicle,
Light the path,
Of snow white,
And it makes a feeling,
Like all is right.

The path is deepening,
As the sleigh glides over it,
Here and there a street light,
Illuminates the falling snow,
As the horses go,
Down every road.

Bells ringing,
And properties lit up,
Like Santa’s North Pole,
There’s a soft wind now too,
As a left turn takes us,
Over a large knoll,
Where at the top,
We stop to admire,
The heart of town.

We can see,
For miles around,
All throughout,
Our marvelous little town,
Enough snow now coming down,
That maybe it will soon drown.

Everywhere is decorated,
For the coming of Christmas,
Light poles wrapped with garland,
To remind us of the tidings,
Of that old day long awaited.

Delightful lights,
Hang in every window,
For they’re all in competition,
Of who can be most glamorous,
From where we are up here,
It looks as though the beautician,
And the store promoting nutrition,
Are the ones worth voting on this year.

Be that as it may,
Every single building together,
Forms quite the picture,
The white light display to the north,
Has intertwined so many,
Sparkling red stockings,
And the reindeer springing forth,
From the center of the skating rink,
That’s surrounded by big sleigh bells,
Has the whole town talking.

As we descend,
From the hill,
We round a bend,
Headed to the town’s center,
To a celebration going on,
Looking forward to steaming cups with cocoa,
Each topped with lots of marshmallow.

There will be cookies covered with icing,
In the shape of Santa Claus,
And giant snowmen built by families,
Vying for a present and applause.

An organist is there,
Leading some in singing carols,
And while they’re doing that,
Others lie down to make angels.

Such an unforgettable gathering,
At the prettiest time of year,
And as the clock strikes midnight,
All gather ’round,
The town’s tallest tree,
It’s been bedecked with bows,
And little lights that twinkle,
Garland, balls, and bells,
Complete the evergreen,
And we all go home with gifts,
Fit for kings and queens.