[NicknamedBob]

Hey! I clean ...

Once in a while ...

Dusting Time

I wiped some things on the mantel shelf,
When the hourglass tumbled by itself,
Dusting can wait, said the temporal sands,
Leaving me with time on my hands.

Minute particles everywhere,
My day was shot, I did declare.
I know time is running out,
But does it have to rush about?

Falling to us in its fleeting way,
It seems to be the same each day,
But some days are of longer sorts,
The sad ones and the bad reports.

And happy days go rushing by,
In just the blinking of an eye.
With time cascading through my hands,
I dwell on thoughts of ocean sands.

And times with you when days were long,
The ocean’s roll was our love’s song.
The crying of the gulls that passed,
A warning that it could not last.

The sparkling gems of bygone years,
Were swimming in a sea of tears.
An ocean crashed upon my beach,
As I put sharp remnants out of reach.

Some things you have to put away,
Our memories are a free replay,
A way to laugh and smile and then,
Be sad that they can never be again.

For things may break when down they fall,
And that will happen to us all,
And yet with faith in God above,
We know that we’ll live on, in love.

Should I become a memory,
The power of a God could be,
If no “Big Bang” ever did occur,
Imaginings was all we were.

Written by NicknamedBob.

March 6, 2004

[DollyCali]

Bob that is beautiful.. I really enjoyed your sharing with the "possession" of poetry production...? you expressed yesterday. The images were strong.

[LadyX]

How magnificent, NBob...so stirring...so true...

[we luv u, man..]

[JustAmy]

Wonderful, NnB.

I don't remember that one. Am I having another senior moment?

[freema]

Bob-sending that to my mom!! She must know your aunt, Dolly. Mom mopped the floor every night when we were little!

Here's another poem I lived by....

"Cleaning and scrubbing can wait 'til tomorrow
For babies grow up we've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep!"

-Anonymous