The Sigh

Sighing and weaseling away the time

like woodpeckers devouring the slime

from bugs running here and there

to feed their young in a hidden lair.

There's not much time left for this old gal

who bonds with nature and makes it her pal.

'tis too much trouble to tell all the facts,

because it's ho-hum and leaves no tracks.

Swish, swirl and dream through the night

of a brighter day and a better sight.

No dream suffices, I soon discover,

as I lay glued with my latest lover.

All fades and dies in the next dire dream

'til I finally realize I'm not what I seem.

This girl was thinking that soon she'll die.

The Son of God can only sigh.

Janet Spiller

May 20^th, 2017

8 minute writing exercise.

Time to sleep

Time to sleep

A watch, a pen and paper here

to write a poem for you my dear.

But I am here with thoughts unclear.

Can we just go to sleep?

The snow came down. The rain came too.

I worried that the plants might die.

But Mother Nature takes care of you.

So we can go to sleep.

I guess my fingers can hold this pen,

but brain and eyes don't want to work.

The silence calls to me again,

“Let go and enjoy sleep!”

Who plays the game with human beings

that write and think as best they can?

I like the quiet of pleasant dreams,

while I disappear in sleep.

Janet Spiller

April 28^th, 2017

8 minute writing exercise