A Wife's Odyssey
Another five sunsets then comes Friday.
Guess whose home and wants “my way”?
Just clean dirty clothes; tweeze his nose,
And, oh yeah, fine dining I suppose.
It’s a Big Mac, a box by Jack
Or the Colonel’s wings in a greasy sack.
After that it’s to the movies where I can’t hear a word
Because my love keeps asking what was said while cackling like a bird.
Don’t get me wrong. I can endure and have a fun day.
‘Cause with clean clothes, nose and hose, he’s off again Sunday!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Five Years of Love
Five years ago life changed.
My world was rearranged.
You and I became one
And since, each day is fun.
Your glance is inviting;
Your touch so exciting.
It's still hard to believe
What I daily receive.
You make life worth living
With your love and your giving.
I've learned from your ways
How to brighten the days.
Five years is a minute
But as long as you're in it,
Each moment will be
Worth an eternity.
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Happy Birthday, Dad
Five years ago life changed.
My world was rearranged.
You and I became one
And since, each day is fun.
Your glance is inviting;
Your touch so exciting.
It's still hard to believe
What I daily receive.
You make life worth living
With your love and your giving.
I've learned from your ways
How to brighten the days.
Five years is a minute
But as long as you're in it,
Each moment will be
Worth an eternity.
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Brown Guys
As peach is in bloom, the apricot glows,
Spring is announced by where the brown guy goes.
He and his mate don’t notice me in the chair,
As they gather their sticks and bring joy to the air.
They excitedly chant as their spring home grows,
Garnered with some strings and occasional bows.
Nothing is more exciting as we watch them for hours.
They’re wondrous and magic with majestic powers.
How lucky we are they chose our yard for their brood.
Sighs of these brown guys are spring’s joyous mood.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Time Grows Shorter
When I was young, the clock was barely alive
It seemed that the good times would never arrive.
As I grew older the needles had something to prove.
Their pace increased as they livened their move.
But still they seemed only to plow along,
Though church bells did render a much louder gong.
If a new life is foretold by such chimes,
I just hope they herald the advent of good times.
In concert clock and bell voice vulnerable dismays;
Their message, “Time grows shorter to find happy days.”
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Happy Doing, Not Having
The measure of happy is what I do;
Not what I have that sits there in view.
The actions I take, like the life I lead,
Have precedence over the objects I need.
When I get confused and life goes astray,
It’s often because what I have’s in my way.
It’s true these things do have their place;
Just a small part of my life’s precious space.
My measure of happy grows as I pursue
Friends and loved ones each day I renew
A promise to always love what I do,
Not allowing what I have to hinder my view.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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October
It seems that each day this world is more unscrupulous than sober
I want to hide behind my Halloween mask in this scary October
The rich are richer and the middle class knows not what’s in store
Their only certainty is that they will join the class known as poor
The weather’s turning cooler and the governments much colder
The year still has its holidays though much fewer for the older
Through this maze of uncertainty, confusion and unrest
All I can do is batten down the hatches, smile and do my best
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Battle With Time is Won
Time splatters like a raindrop’s blast,
Appearing then evaporating in the past.
Create something lasting and real
That yesterday can never steal.
Cheat time by building a force
That continues after life’s divorce.
Ideas and feelings always live on
Long after fame and fortune are gone.
These thoughts can be truly divine
Living on as only you choose to define.
They live on through those they inspire
As with countless more who inquire.
And never forget what was done
Thus the battle with time is won!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Anger's Damage
Anger wastes the day as bitterness throws it away.
These evils join forces to betray and decay.
A sunrise dies each time anger and rancor prevail.
Negativism sinks happiness before it can set sail.
Saddest of all is that minutia and inconsequence
Triumph each day left battered and tense.
“I’m sorry.” “I love you.” “Let me listen.”
Destroy anger and bitterness, making the day glisten.
Kindness is the way to keep relationships fresh and new
During a life where the days are so very, very few.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Clock and Bells
When I was young, the clock was barely alive.
It seemed that the good times would never arrive.
As I grew older the needles had something to prove.
Their pace increased; they livened their move.
But still they seemed to just plow along,
Though church bells did render a louder gong.
Who knows if a new life is foretold by these chimes?
I just hope they herald the advent of new times.
In concert clock and bell have something to say…
Their message, “Leave the world a bit better each day.”
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Huyette
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