Oh, my little foolish child.
You are young and wild.
Still want your cake to eat.
Yet, your room is not neat.

You play the fool so well.
But your grades you fail.
If you listen to what I say.
But that is for another day.

You get bored easily though.
Your attention span is low.
Watch you waste your time.
You are yet in your prime.

You want to sleep all day.
Then get up and go play.
Its one big game to you.
You try to skip school.

You can't sit still to rest.
You try to leave the nest.
You want your own home.
Complain about being alone.

Wake Up Grandfather Clock

Here I go winding you, again.
You lose time my old friend.
Your toll used to wake me.
Around my neck is the key.

It used to be a hard pound.
But then a comforting sound.
Your smile always in place.
Time etched on your face.

Wake up grandfather clock.
I want you to go tick-tock.
My digital world is cheap.
Your stained wood is deep.

Father time, He went away.
But you didn't; Always stay.
I love to listen to you chime.
I hear much more than time.

You are tall, dark and old.
Your insides are all gold.
You're not just furniture.
Home is what you nurture.

All Roads Lead To Roam

Mother Road I have followed you.
All of my days you have been true.
You are an endless ribbon of black.
And you have always took me back.

You draw me in in-climate weather.
Your coercion is light as a feather.
Your kisses are as the morning dew.
I always smile when I think of you.

Your path is tangled as green vine.
Your crossroads are friends of mine.
Your journey always intermingle me.
Your temptation fondly sets me free.

I learned early to wear good shoes.
Cars pass me by, I get the blues.
But their journey led them away.
My path was many times to stray.

Mother Road, I blow you a kiss.
For the paths I may have missed.
I can see you from my little home.
Now I know all roads lead to roam.

Thanks for sharing them, they are lovely

Thanks for your reply. Much appreciated.

Writer's Paradise

So glad you chose to share such intimate details of your life.
Don't worry about what they say or about being a lesbian wife.
Your relationship with her I admire and you just have to share.
You are a secret lover and I know life just isn't always fair.

But would you jeopardize what you two have to be with her?
No, I didn't think so and you are right to be a secret lover.
A part of her love is your's and a part of her love is just his.
I am just glad you are smart enough to realize all of this.

It is not all black and white like you say and we have gray.
But if you tried to change reality wouldn't it just go away?
Hold your pearls most precious to your broken heart.
I know it doesn't really change things but its a start.

True, there are many who couldn't understand your way.
They would see you as the one who shouldn't stay.
Torned between heaven and hell; Don't give up.
There is for certain a much more bitter cup.

You can share your poetry and we can see.
We can read about the other loving family.
Thanks for sharing and thinking of me.
Fantasy can be real; Realer than reality.

Oh, Blessed Gadfly

Oh, blessed gadfly that irritates me so
How is it that you always seem to know
What I am thinking long before I do?
Oh, blessed gadfly flying so true
Why is it that I want to swat you
And stop you from buzzing around?
Oh, blessed gadfly and your sound
Makes me think I might be wrong
From listening to another's song.
Oh, blessed gadfly you question me
Making you lose your serenity.
Wouldn't you rather just be free?
Oh, blessed gadfly I want to know
Why you always torment my soul
And wreak havoc on my poor ego?
Oh, blessed gadfly I shouldn't complain
After all you are just inside my brain
But why, oh why all the infinite tests?
Oh, blessed gadfly so highly blest
But why is the buzzing noise a must?
It makes it so hard to really trust.

~ Roll’in Roll ~

~~~

Roy is on a roll
rolling out the prose
the magic that inspires him
seems to come in droves

With his swirled sucker in the breeze
he rhymes his words with expertise
each a tale that he decrees
with an artistry of ease

Rainbow Roy
Rainbow Trout
Rainbow Sliders all about

Painting words with letters
creating plots with thoughts
sliding down a vibrant beam
of RainbowTrouting spots

Roy just loves to cook up words
and send them to your screen
sautéed with piquant rhapsody
as a visual cuisine

Eat them up!
For he’ll cook more!
He’s a shameless gourmet whore!

Thank you Mr. Rainbow Trout
for your poetry of lore

~~~

(Abra 5/8/07)

Love it, James.

Happy Serenity Day

Nice seeing you smile, today.
Knowing it wasn't always.
Watch you laugh and play.
Things friends had to say.

Passing around token there.
Listening to each other share.
Noticing how each did care.
Us outside in the open air.

You beaming from ear to ear.
Your words ringing so clear.
I am happy you made a year.
So free from past and fear.

A celebration without drugs.
There were just a few bugs.
Was nice to see the hugs.
Just coffee in all the mugs.

You all clean and serene.
Brightest thing I seen.
Joy in the in between.
Life can be really green.

While all your poems are wonderful, Happy Serenety Day is my favorite.
I am alive after 17 years in a drug induced coma of life. Thanks so
much for the beautiful words, I am happy to say I see them touch them
and feel them. God its great to be alive again isn't it? Princess
0513:)

I am glad that you liked the poem. At the Narcotics Anonymous meeting,
yesterday where two had gained their one year key tags it got really
emotional. I was really proud for that lady who was grinning and
laughing. We had the meeting outside since it was a nice day. Her son
was real happy for her and was showing his support by being there. She
had so many relatives who had remembered the way she was and was giving
their support. We were sitting outside the church who let us have our
meeting. We have to be 50 feet away from the church for the smokers that
come so that we don't violate city ordinances. We had one of those
meetings where everyone was feeling chipper. Every time the speaker
would read from the preamble and text she would yell 'we' where the 'we'
word was. The whole group was in an uproar from her zeal but we
were all so happy for her.

Chutes And Ladders

As oblivion slowly descends
the darkness becomes a friend.
The grip of sanity ebbs away
and one learns a different way.
Gone are the illusions of hope
as one slips off the fake slope.
The dreams of the past shatter
and the steps start to matter.
The geographical chutes fall
and one hears darkness call.
Sliding not as easy as before
for the siren is on the shore.
The temptation becomes strong
because she has a lovely song.
The chutes can only go down
and ladders have to be found.
The chutes and ladders maze
as one goes through in a daze.
Searching for a way to get out
one lingers and one doubts.
The maze constantly rearranges
as one goes through changes.

My Raging Queen

It was a cloudy day; All quiet and serene.
It was my first trip on the Raging Queen.
I was her captain; She was my first mate.
We left harbor; It wasn't my first date.

She was a beauty; A nice crow's nest.
It was her maiden voyage; A real test.
It became foggy; Looked for the helm.
She was turbulent; I was overwhelmed.

Storm clouds gathered; Hard to steer.
I became worried; She was a dear.
Winds blew; Rain coming starboard.
I tried to hold on; Went overboard.

Soaking wet; I mounted her again.
I got the mast; She was my friend.
Threw anchor; Riding the storm out.
At first she raged; Then she pout.

Sea began to calm; Peace came.
She was soft; Moriah the same.
She was then Jo; Quiet and serene.
My first trip on the Raging Queen.

Roy..I hope you don't mind if I stick this poem in here..

I was very impressed with the men at the meetings who had gone for years
without touching alcohol..

The stories that the shred were an inspiration, as are your poingnat
poems.. Bob..

**********************************************************








These Men
by Bobby7

I just spent an hour inside a room that was filled with men like me.
If pain had color, then in that room, there's a rainbow you could see.
The stories of these tortured souls could fill a hundred shelves.
But the plot's the same, for just like me, they're all searching for
themselves.

Alcohol controls our minds, and tears apart our lives.
It takes from us, all we hold dear, friends, families, cherished wives.
It devours, with impunity, our souls; this cursed; Alcohol...
And no matter where you are in life, it, too, can make you fall.

So, here we are, at our last stand, we wish to banish alcohol.
We want our lives back, as they were, before booze made us fall.
It can be done! We've seen the proof, at each meeting we attend.
And we really can reclaim our lives, if we just listen to these men.

They paid their dues, and suffered pain, the pain we all feel now.
And, if we really wish to free ourselves, these men can show us how.
Perhaps we needn't walk the miles these alcoholics trod.
If, we but listen to their message,

and trust our lives to God.

I am glad you did, Bob. Your poem is truly inspirational. I really loved
reading it. It helped me to look at it. Thanks for sharing.

love your poems roy,hope youll read them to me soon

Thank you, Babs.

Good stuff guys

THATS SO KOOL GUYS THANKS I COPY IT SO WHEN I NEED SOME THING TO READ I
HAVE IT BY FROM DEAN