If There Was No War (day 685)

If there was no war
Lions and cheetahs as friends
And if there was no war
Chimpanzees would sure be free
If there was no war
My happy feet’d take me to thee
‘Cause I’ve got love baby
Love enough for you and me

Can you image life without a wall
No distraught to make it tall
Or foes to climb at all
It’d sure be a funny thing
Calling what mine mine
When the whole world was shared
Yours and mine together you see
Friends at last we’d always be

If there was no war
No holes would mark and scar the land
And if there was no war
No poppy would be remembering for
If there was no war
My happy feet’d take me to thee
‘Cause I’ve got love baby
Love enough for you and me

Now if there was no war
No war to pick our pockets for
And if there was no war
No war for few to fight the many
If there was no war
My dog would open up the door
Welcome in the buffalo
Roaming wild and free
A sea of peace for you and me

Slowly Melting Away (day 684)

On my better days
I get up before light
Put on my trusty runners
And head out to the path
Where my dog and I
Dodge frozen twigs and poop
Nimbly dancing along
Snow covered trails
Slowly melting away
Causing the walk to be
More like a slide
Through slush

On my better days
I get out of bed
Ignoring the softness
Deep within the sheets
I ignore the pillows
That drown me in comfort
And the warm pocket
I’ve been heating all night
Testing first with my hands
Then my timid feet
Touch the ground

On my better days
This is truth
Though, today was harder

I Walked Alone Today (day 659)

I walked alone today
Through a snowy path
Amongst birch trees
That have no leaves
Pine and Fir are there
Ensuring nature stays green

Along this path
I walked today
Thoughts sprung forth
Delight… dismay
Yet still hard to think
As I wandered further
Battling 20 cm or so

It snowed today
Coming down in droves
Falling lightly on my mind
As I passed along
The spot where the old
Lady fell the other day

I walked alone today
As if transfixed by spell
Lightness of air
Easing the worried thoughts
Fluttering through my hair
And landing on the tips
Of every particle reaching out
To helping me on my way

Deep Crimson Baskets (day 658)

Shallow pools of unspoilt water
Sit below a Betty Crocker window
With hanging deep crimson baskets
That fill the air
With freshly baked flowered Mondays
Spreading out is the pony picket fence
That shines White House Tuesday
Separating the gumshoe green grass
From the oilskin decay
Of the Red Riding Hood forest
Sporting Wednesday’s haircut
Half-way there
Here’s where the country house patio
Holds the dad’s weekend project picnic table
Thursday’s moldy sandwiches
Crawls into cracks upon the Indian paintbrush deck
Where Friday morning dew drops
Freshens up the green spots
Under the Saturday afternoon oak
That tickle the fresh from shower toes
Wiggling for joy amongst the John Deer grass
Where taste tests start
Out of the Sunday brunch basket
Two drive-in lovers packed
For their dollar store romance
Fresh in from the Marilyn Monroe raindrops
Settling the shallow pools of water waiting
Under the Betty Crocker window

Mother Earth’s Frosted Tongue (day 657)

A path
Littered with needles
Fallen lightly down
In cool winter’s breeze
Glares white

Long blue shadows
Battling footprints
This way and that
Taking me further
Into dreams of thought
With a steady breath

Dancing lightly
On stray beams
Of winter’s enemy
Sunlight, in warmth
Brings me home
Dusted with kisses
From Mother Earth’s
Frosted tongue

Prince George Trails - 20130204 (15 of 21)

A Free Soldier (day 654)

A lost soldier makes his way home
Elsewhere, grenades go off in combat
Where trenches are dug deep into earth
Casually the soldier wanders home
Through orchards full of fresh fruit
Through rolling country hills
And friendly strangers minding
Their own important business
Along double track dirt roads
Fields of flowers for napping carelessly
And picking, one hangs loose about his shirt pocket
Heavy combat coat flung freely about his shoulder
Fresh cut grass sends over the valley
A smell so potent and refreshing
Even the young birds come stay for a visit
Enjoying the new horizons created
By the arching suns daily pattern
Carrying it’s essence onward
Into the mind of the young soldier
Making his way home away from battle
In peace so strong a hand from nowhere reaches out
And assures him that all will be right
And walks him onward, into the light

Bicycle (day 639)

Your marvelous wheels
That catch a shining glare
Turn all the girls heads
When we roll on by
Summer golden locks
With pink crop tops
Big eyed shades
It’s gelato time
And racing through parks
Jacket flowing wide
Wind in my hair
Big smile on my eyes
Freedom!
Freedom at last!
As we curl past the final gazebo
Home stretch in front
We’ll stop just in time

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Earth as We Know It (day 636)

Apocalyptic desires spread across the landscape into horizons of jubilant joy, needlessly wandering about the edges in a vignetted blur of reason and sacrifice.

All that was known then suddenly became lost, like the vision from the eyes when consciousness is shifted into the willing arms of a sideways glance, a flicker at the edges of a landscape.

Energy begins to build with anticipation and excitement; roaming birds know this feeling well, they make love to the feeling on sunny days when warm winds blow fresh scents of motherly creations of earth upon their nest.

Laying absentmindedness at the door, whipper-whisps swap the mind to the present, dust floats up from the awoken floorboards hitting sunlight that delights lovers, playing with time and space it’s exchange grows with anticipation into one final exultant gasp and releases such a tremor the rest fall into a deep dark sleep.

Deep within runs wild, from all except the grumpy gnome, the soldier of harbouring resentment, who scowls at all life and pushes away forthcoming joys to create for himself the place he never wished he had.

Alongside this dwelling of darkness runs a brook wild, over mossy rocks, through gnarled trees, past covered bridges, and out into the pussy willows and lily pads.

Taking away with it, from upstream down to the lowlands, all hate, love, magic, potions, desires, misspent emotions, and dying flowers into a new season of germination where new things shall sprout and grow with playful arches of sun that float onwards and away as the magical fruits of earth we know.

Winter’s Air (day 635)

I opened my heart today
Let it dry out in the winter air
Unbeknownst to me
A snowflake
Built upon infinite possibilities
Floated about my heart
Landing in a precious spot

I felt it glisten
In that cold winter air
Tingling sensation to the tips of my toes
Flirting with the edges of a smile

When just as easily
Just as simply as the path of the flake
A teardrop formed
Occupying the folded regions
Of my shaded eye
Drying in the winter’s air