I write because I can, there is no other reason,

I write by day, I write by night, I write in any season.

I write if I am happy, I write when I am sad,

I write because I wish to, I write lots if I'm mad.

I write because it soothes me, and calms my racing head.

I write whatever comes to mind upon my comfy bed.

I write to say a thank you, I write appreciative friends,

I write because I love to, the writing never ends.

I write if I'm annoyed, I write most every day,

I write if I'm excited and write 'bout every way,

A writer can put pen to pad, whatever I may think,

I guess I'll write forever, or til I run out of ink. (whichever comes first, I guess)

The trees are waving in the wind, bending, swaying, lifting

Throwing off last autumn's leaves which in the wind are drifting.

Here and there they softly land, upon the waking grass,

Out of place now, colorless, within a different class.

Lost amidst the bursts of budding colors, pale and dreary,

They tell the tale of last year's end; attest to just how weary,

From fall to winter's edge it was, but left us full of hope.

So we could reach out yearningly embracing springtime's scope.

I love the trees, they soothe me, whenever I am down,

It doesn't matter if they're green or yellow, red or brown.

They bring me such a sense of peace, as though they had the powers

To reach within the heart of me, those enigmatic towers.

 Written by Pethaven, 4/12/09

Okay I'm done humpfh, humpfhing, so I'll sing another song,

Or write another poem to say I'm back where I belong,

No humpfhing, just say cheery things,  and be a better gal,

So I can think up better things to say to my best pal.

It after all is early spring where all the lovelies grow,

And birdies sing, and Mary grows her gardens in a row.

And Martha makes a million, selling house and garden tools,

So everyone who visits Martha's customers can drool,

Because the things that Martha sells make houses look so pretty-

And those like me can rhyme a poem or write a silly ditty.

Deciphering people is sometimes a trial,

I wish a solution came inside a vial.

If I'm happy they grumble, if I'm sad they are not,

I'd rather spend time with a flowering pot.

Or my dog or my birds, all alone in the house,

I am glad even lonely I don't have a spouse.

There are days when I think if the dogs were not here

And the only companion I had I do fear

Was a plant, in a pot, in the dirt on the table,

I'd read to it, sing to it, let it watch cable.

I'd tend it with care, give it love with a shower,

And at least the darn thing would give me a flower.

And wouldn't that be nice?

I woke up this morning and put the dogs outdoors,

And stopped to look around me, before I did my chores,

The sun above is shining, the rain has gone away,

And I am slated for a shift, must go to work today.

Perhaps my patient will be well and we can go outside,

And look for signs of spring that we can search for as she rides.

Forsythias are budding I see the start of yellow

And other colors round about, there's nothing there that's mellow.

I love this time of year when all that's lovely bursts restraints

It must be difficult I feel to vocalize complaints.

Oh, yesterday I did, I know, I bubbled forth complaining,

But don't you know that's probably because of all the raining?

Yes, that was it, today it's gone, the sun is shining bright,

So I will not start mumbling til the sun goes down, tonight. .

('cuz I mumble a lot.)

I finished up six days of work and now all that is done,

I had today to rest upon, but then, tomorrow's one..

Day one that is, it starts anew as off to work I go,

I don't know how to pause the time, it always happens so.

I want the day, I want to play, I want to rest and think,

As though there were all sorts to do, past dishes in the sink.

Or beds to change or dust to move or rugs to vacuum clean,

But I must take myself to work, oh, dear this world is mean.

I want to sit within a chair until I want to stand,

I want to dress up to the nines and cruise the world so grand.

I want to tell the maid to fix a meal for friends and I,

And take off to the theater to see "The King and I"

Or something else I want to do just 'cuz I want to do it,

Not going somewhere 'cuz I must and seeing myself through it.

Can't I tell someone who is rich that now it's all my turn,

And they can go to work for me and I can bridges burn?

(? With their money?) Haven't figured that out,

The whole thing makes me want to shout.

  So I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

 

I finished up the fourth of six, with two more days to go,

I volunteered to work like that, why did I do it so?

I know I need the money, but is it oh so much,

That I cannot give up some work, adopt a Midas' touch?

There are so many out there, who inherit family  dollars,

How come, I ask., why don't I have,  it makes me want to holler.

Ah well, no wealthy kin have I, at least not those I know,

I'll have to work some extra years, regardless of my "woe".

I have to eat and pay my bills, I have my pets to feed.

I have to pay for lots of things, and common sense must heed.

But, if there's any reader, who has found a way to rest.

Just let me know just how it's done, I'll give you all my best.

larger view

The days are gone, an era passed, goodbye my sweet dear "boys",

No longer will I walk with you, or put away your toys.

I will not stoop to pick you up,  nor trip on Gandy's "bear".

Or watch as Mickey slowly  "cleans" the crumbs , spilled everywhere.

I will not grumble at your fur, on everything I see,

Nor trip, because you're underfoot, wherever I might be.

No longer will I put you out by early morning light,

 Nor sit beside you on the lawn, and watch the stars at night.

We cannot ride in Mummy's car, or go to visit Mark,

Nor take a trip with picnic lunch, to go to Greeley Park.

We will not daily take our walks along West Hollis Street,

Or down beside the river's edge, to hear the birdie's tweet.

Nor sniff a bush, pick up a stick, nor give a listening ear.

To wildlife sounds or children's play, whatever you would hear.

But thanks, my loves,. for all the years you kept me company--

Goodbye,  my faithful, fuzzy friends, FOREVER MEMORIES!

larger view

I  think of you my faithful friend, night and day, now and then,

Oh, the stories I could tell, of things you did, when young and well.

Of funny days and happy hours, chasing flies and smelling flowers.

Loose amidst a wooded glen-oh wondrous times we had back then.

What a puppy, into all, kleenex tissue, had a ball!

Dragged your toys and made a mess, but with your presence we were blessed.

In the night you'd check the beds and make your count of children's heads,

And if a door at night was closed, you'd sit outside and howl your woes,

Until up out of bed I'd climb, so you could make your rounds on time.

And you endured the dolly clothes, and hugs and troubles, family woes,

And listened closely, sympathized, and scrutinized with mournful eyes.

You seemed to know just where to be;  which one to comfort, who to see,

And then, the kids were on their own, and you were sad, with time alone,

And so came Mickey, your best friend, right by your side, until the end,

I miss you both, the memories, within my heart, will always be.