A Penny for Your Thoughts

 

A penny for your thoughts the pauper said,
“If I were moneyed well what would I do?”
“I’d buy some wine, and golden jewelry, too,”
Yet, golden grass within the green is dead

.

Enormous fancy hats the rich may buy,
Or sail upon the sea with sun chapped lips,
But, I with my true lover sits and sips,
To touch our hands, and view this glorious sky!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 27, 2013

Danny (Sonnet)

Oh, you who are my friend, and just friend,
A buddy met for coffee, eggs and toast,
I brought some work, but you as friend and host,
With no agenda I would not offend.
With a true friendship we could now transcend,
To talk of grandchildren, and even boast,
Of marriage, sleep, of pills or ills the most,
Your work sent you away and put an end,
Yet we as friends will always e’re recall,
Two streams converged atop in waterfall!

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 22, 2013

 

 

Oh, What is Dust!

Oh! What is in “Dust” and, oh, why do we care?

That fine mist of gray on top of a chair-

 In the attic where all of our Christmas display,

In bags and in boxes all safe from the fray.

And the chair, with the snowman our Frosty the “man”,

Has been artfully painted on bases of tan,

Now, the mistletoe berries of wood painted red,

With the dusty green leaves they are nestled in bed.

If dust is dead skin cells, and other foul stuff,

Who cares for my dust cloth abounds, it’s enough,

To wipe all the old, so it’s new once again,

As the red berries gleam growing fresh from the glen.

I don’t dust quite often, and, “No”, I don’t dote,

On seasonal ornaments which are remote-

I think of my dust as the cotton so clean,

From white cotton dust cloths, and laundered blue jean!

So science with dust mites some microns so long,

Or, corpses, or feces a desiccant song,

We humans are strong, if from ashes or dust,

And, from Adam and Eve we’ll survive or we’ll bust!

Peter Lowell Paulson

August 21, 2013

 

 

Celebrations

 

Celebrations are so wonderful!
The first breathe of life,
A newborn’s cry,
Met with countless tears,
Of joy,
And, Yes!
Of celebration!
And, yet…
Before birth, what joy!
A girl; a boy!
Cheers in anticipation!
Celebration!
Ten fingers; ten toes;
Who knows ?
A genius or not,
We’ve got our child…
A child of God!
A celebration with every…
Smile and grin,
Each coo, and ah-goo,
The smallest fingers grasp my little finger,
As she is suckling,
Breast or bottle,
Mom or Grandma,
Cradles her, and celebrates!
And, now first year,
One Year old!
How bold we sit him in a highchair,
With cake and lighted candle,
Celebrating with him!
And, he confused with total freedom,
To put face to frosting,
But, we’re not done with celebrating,
First steps if not taken yet,
Alphabet recited,
And, numbers one, two three, and more,
Potty training,
Annoying celebration,
But, celebrating two things,
Let’s get real,
Less hassle with diapers,
Less poo,
But, the BEST celebration of ALL!
It’s Saturday morning,
You are in your bed sleeping,
He (your child) goes to the kitchen,
Gets his plastic bowl from the cabinet,
He pours the cereal, the milk into the bowl,
He places it on the table and gets his own spoon to eat,
Now THAT, my friends, is the BEST CELEBRATION ever!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 20, 2013

 

 

Thank You, Lord

 

Thank You, Lord, for giving me a life so full of love,
And, for this day the earth at dawn all sun kissed from above,
Instill in me the will to be for others in my care,
A person who is just like You with all I have to share.

 

Peter Lowell Paulson


Crush it!

Stomp it,
Crush it,
Let’s walk it out!
We do EVERY day!
Don’t we girl?
Yes, we do!
YOU are my ideal,
Because you are beautiful beyond belief,
And, you are you,
The, “ME” nobody knows!
go, go, go, go, go, go, GO-O-O!
I see the artwork in the studio,
That nobody else sees,
Yah, that’s you BABY!
I hear the most intelligent conversation,
From YOU,
not on the TV!
No, from You,
Let’s live,
Beyond, the hype,
Beyond the grip of other’s expectations,
We are who WE are,
Let’s stomp it,
Crush it!

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 14, 2013

 

 

Did I Say I Liked Your Purple Shoes?

 

 

Did I say I liked your purple shoes?

Oh yah, and the matching socks,
Pretty cool,
Really,
You said to me last night, “Your toes are really big!”
And, then you laughed, or kind of giggled,
That got me to stare at your bare feet from across the room,
And, then at mine,
I said, “Ok, but compared to you everything on me is going to be big,”
You smiled, and laughed again, and said, “I’m just sayin’”,
If you stand on your tip toes we can see eye to eye,
Nose to nose,
We knows, because we’ve measured,
Mouth to mouth, too,
Kissy,
Smoochy,
You’re so cute!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 13, 2013

When You Feel You’re Weak

 

When you feel you’re weak; oh, please don’t lose it,
Don’t take in on the cheek; but, don’t recuse it,
The one, who is the freak; and, would abuse it,
Now you must reach your peak, and not refuse it!

 

You’re quiet as a doe, but, you’re no Dumbo,
A netted shrimp in tow, but, not in Gumbo,
An elephant we know, but not our Jumbo,
It’s time to learn and go, you have the Mumbo!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 13, 2013

 

 

Note: Every poem is inspired.  Whether a poet says it is on not, it is.  What is it that a poet has that comes naturally is rhythm and rhyme.  Why it happens is clueless.  I was listening to Broadway Musical Radio on XM Sirius.  One caught my ear about being “mischievous” .  If you Googled that word you could probably figure out which one it is.  The “cadence” and the “message” caught me.  I started playing around with my own words and this is the result.  PLP

 

 

 

Gliderman

 

Oh, gliderman, please take me up,
I want to sup with cirrus cloud,
Each wisp of cloud,
Hung high above,
The marrow in me wants to soar,
And, feel my feet upon the floor,
Of nothing more than airy streams,
As sun beams down on sand and shore,
The birds in flight all seem to wave,
An awkward sight of me so brave,
To soar, and soar, and soar, and soar!
Oh, Helios do you see me now?
Fair Hermes slipping in your sky,
As brother gods to share the strand,
The sky, the sun the sea, the sand!
Oh, one more “up”, no two, NO THREE,
Set free, and turn, now turn,
Now slow-w-w-w,
Set foot, now quickly walk, now slowly walk,
Upon the earth again!
As billowed glider crumbles,
Tumbles onto the ground,
We gather home once more to face the horde,
But, with a bit of wonder,
Nay, with God within our soul!

 

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
August 6, 2013