it's nice out there
when you're fully bundled
and warm is how i'm wrapped.
crumpled in a package.
Good for taking me outside
up and down the drive.
feel alive. sakes alive
snowflakes
poetry - jack sender - all of my life
it's nice out there
when you're fully bundled
and warm is how i'm wrapped.
crumpled in a package.
Good for taking me outside
up and down the drive.
feel alive. sakes alive
snowflakes
forty years ago or so
when we crossed the joyous bridge,
our hearts filled with everything that should be.
they are, we are, completly.
tai chi, chinese food, boats, happy. good friends,
bay crossings. the best seasons, rain, wind. the scent of water,
always. gladness in our hearts.
brilliance resounds beyond believeability
just when it seems unavailable.
digest the morning scene.
hurl a beam. peaches and cream.
satisfy your dream.
where there's love in between,
hugs help lots of things.
apple cider is nearly
ready. we can heat it
on cool nights.
sounds the way we've always
done i don'f say it's
regular this time of year.
could seem so. should we
practically expect it?
i can't for sure say one way or 'nuther.
the full hour filled with joy.
moving as best we can,
these old folks tapping the boards,
an hour's worth, 0h boy.
we'll keep old heads together.
tap it out. an hour,
minutes, that's right
a good afternoon.
dressed and mentally able.
yes. we are.
who's that guy in the sky?
0h my? why am i so bygone?
a song's worth. i measured,
that's how much.
how often out of touch.
that such, so much. ruffled.
there plain as day
could be seen what i say
is what is said you know come what may
then blown away
so write it down while it's around
have it your way
i'll dot my noteboard.
beginning this date, sort of.
how can we say when day begins.
you see it is not night.
this is the tell. when you have the choice
it's one Way or all the other.
that's the local pool. i haven't beem swimming yet,
but there or here now i have an inclination.
so he looks and sells
i told m to get him out.
we'll talk to another guy.
the story can't ever be as bad as the salesman says.
the guy driving the bus
or the lady selling donuts?
the blue sky is what i mean.
now September near the middle;
that's my dad on the fiddle by the way.
rolling out a little joy. carry on,
play that tune, a little while.