like a neighbor who covets,
the old envy the young.
those kids... they love it--
bare cheek and flash tongue.
and similar to a clock,
the youth tick and they tock,
working toward the moment
when they will just stop.
yes, we all have gears--
though some don't know it.
as fly the years,
we learn the end of the bit.
Well, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...