Half the Battle

Falling in love is only half the battle
And, really, quite easy to do;
The hard part is in being the man
That makes her want to fall in love with you.

Treat her like a lady;
Shower her with compliments;
When obstacles appear in your journey’s path,
Learn how together you can circumvent.

Allow her to be right some times
Easily admit when you are wrong;
Realize that just because you are the man
Doesn’t mean that sometimes she can’t be the one who’s strong.
Know that sex is a tandem sport
At which both of you can win;
To only take and never give
In a relationship is a sin.

Show an interest in the things she loves;
Learn how to appreciate the many things she does;
Help straighten up more than once a year;
While watching her movies allow to escape, a tear;
Listen to the lessons that she’s teaching you;
Don’t be afraid of the words, “I Love You, too.”

Falling in love is only half the battle
And, really, not so hard to do;
The challenge is in being the man
That keeps her in love with you.

Melissa

Long sleeves throughout the summer, in retrospect, should have been a clue,
Covering up her dainty, fragile arms tattooed in black and blue.
I thought her reserved disposition was just because she’s kind of shy,
Until I saw her wearing sunglasses to cover up a new black eye.
Her husband was the sheriff, feared by all in town;
Now I’m serving a life sentence for taking the coward down.

His anger got the best of him, right in the middle of our town square,
As coincidence would have it, I just happened to be right there.
He slapped her for interrupting, then punched her when she slapped back;
I was on my way to a softball game, carrying my aluminum bat.
When he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to his car,
With everyone simply staring, I stepped in to say he’d gone too far.

He said, “Mind your own business, before I throw your ass in jail”;
When he started reaching for his service gun, I heard Melissa try to yell.
It was my best swing of the season, a homerun you can be sure;
The sheriff of our little town would be battering his wife no more.
She visits me on Sundays; a three hour drive, at least, each way;
She wears short sleeves now in summer, so I’ve nothing else to say.

The Dawning Day’s Cacophony

The dawning day’s cacophony, through my open window serenades;
An early bird symphony into my bedroom noisily invades;
The cawing of a murder between rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker’s head;
Mix with distant sounds of early commuters, beckoning me out of bed.

The dawning day’s cacophony, accompanied by rays from the morning sun,
Announce my night is over and a new day has begun.

Standing at a Crossroads

I am standing at a crossroads with no signs pointing the way;
My shadow stretches in front of me from the dawning of a new day;
No matter which road I choose to take, there will be no turning back;
Whether or not you’re on the path I choose requires knowledge that I lack.

One path could lead to happiness; another could lead to pain;
One path could lead to riches; on another I could lose all that I’ve gained;
Every journey begins with a single step, which I am hesitant to take;
But, with confidence I’ll move forward even if it is a big mistake.

I pick up all my baggage, preparing to move along;
Looking forward with my head held high, I start whistling a song;
If I meet you on this journey, I hope we can travel together for a while;
And when our paths divert again, I hope I leave you with a smile.

I am standing at a crossroads with no signs pointing the way;
I know I must move forward because I’m not the kind of guy who stays.

Compliments Unsaid

There is no guarantee that the future will become your past;
Each breath that you breathe might be the breath that you breathe last;
No promise of a tomorrow before you meet your final end;
No definitive opportunity to hug a loved one or a friend.

That confession of love, you procrastinate to say;
That statement of gratitude that you just let slip away;
That declaration of pride that for some reason you hold inside,
The opportunity to express them all may just have passed you by.

Don’t wait for the perfect time; it may never come to call;
If you don’t do those things today they might never get done at all;
Don’t risk a last goodbye with a compliment unsaid;
Don’t leave them always wondering about the silence when you’re dead.

When Politicians Play Their Games

They buried civility in a shallow grave;
Without humility the combatants all behaved;
When, finally, in victory a hand up high was raised,
They wondered, unequivocally, why the world was all a crazed.

When you enter a pact with the Devil for your soul;
When you distort the facts to achieve your final goal;
The enemies you attract tally up a pretty toll;
There’s no going back once the Devil’s in your fold.

In the dust of history only ruins will remain;
Those who caused the misery infamously will be named;
The Devil meticulously collects his souls, just the same;
When, quite viciously, politicians play their games.

A Destination Quite Unknown

We are all traveling on the same journey
With a destination quite unknown;
Regardless of your origination;
Regardless of miles already flown.

Some are traveling in first class;
Some ride steerage with the stock;
Some will work on providing comfort:
Some will pilot; most will not.

We’re not sure where we are headed;
What twists and turns the journey may bring;
Some will argue about how we should get there;
Some will worry about various other things.

In the end the end is a beginning
Of another journey we cannot comprehend;
How we travel in the journey we are living
Will determine where the next journey ends.