Ode to a stiff neck

Stiff and sore
Don't want to do anymore
Leave me be
It's the last time I ski

Suburban junlge

The lumbering glass elephant
Stopped to graze in the aloe plant
While the brass turtle alongside
Did his best to sit still and hide
The fancy feather ostrich
Danced around trying to scratch an itch
As the crystal swarm of bees
Buzzed and flew just as they pleased

This is for my little one who was animating the knick-knacks on our coffee table...

Coming

Stand down all your clowns
Forget the juggling and squirting flower
The days are shorter now in fact
And you should steel against the hour

A storm brewing on the horizon
Far away yet closer than you think
A sandstorm closing in from behind
Pushing us ever closer to the brink

So grab your sword, your bow and arrow
Your dusty, sacred vestments of old
And shake the cobwebs from their bower
To face the wrath with all the fold

START!!!!

Why won't you start, you stupid thing!
We got you oil, tires and changed everything!
Now we're facing another costly bill
Because your decided to stop and stand still!

Yes, this is about our van.

Snow Again

Awash in white
The world awaits
The quiet of the spring
While nature sleeps
We must content
With the smallest joyful thing

Tough years

Hang your head and check your laughter
After all, it's harmony you're after
If you blink it'll be too late
You must not discourage open debate
Now's your chance to make your mark
Or end up shouting from in the dark

Celebrate

Another party
Another year
Another birthday
Another fear
Growing older
And also wider
Growing slower
But not much wiser

No Red Boots

Woe to you, oh great one
The stars have all aligned
Your hour of glory over
To your enemies all blind
Though you've crossed your rivers
And won the battles fought
Conquered hearts and lovers
And basked in all you've got
The tides were slowly turning
Though you were not aware
Your confidence assured you
That no one would ever dare
But those who you raised up
Would show their bitter hand
For stealing what they loved
For reshaping their natal land
Now the senate gathers
Beneath the vaulted arch
And now the knife edge gleams
On this fateful Ides of March

Neigh-more!

The hard ground calls up
As my iron hits the earth
Clods of grass and rock scream out
With a whip of my head
And a snort of happiness
I fly the freedom born to me
But as always I bear the shackles
That are fated to my breed
Saddled as I am, I must obey
Spurred on by heel and switch
But on my own I'd fly away
To roam the hills as I should

Tick tock

Ringing in the day
With flagging spirits sway
A question lost to the world
As every flag unfurls
Nothing to do but wait
And hope it was good bait