Bryan Taplits

I paid her once a compliment
Flattered, she fluttered her eyes,
Yes, I was preparing for another affair-
So I got ready for my new enterprise.
...

The thing with age that lets you down-
until you figuratively creep on the ground,
Retrieving what no longer is there
A quest imprinted-no longer found.
...

What a store and a delight-
A stratagem which I believe,
A fevered fount
(Where votes all count) -
...

A cloud came out, the sun went in
More drizzle was my life
I prayed then hoped-but just got rope-
My heart: All slice and diced!
...

One thinks of things like TV-glee
When sponsorship is claimed,
Commercials tag this salesmanship
All salesmen know your name.
...

Once ago all stars were lit
The sun never overstayed its stay,
And once long ago all moons were amber-filled
Hallowed
...

There is no glue that binds one to
And hugs as much as feelings,
But a wise man decides when he‘s had enough
So chooses other stuff-
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The roses are not showy or dear
The blooms have gone out of life,
The score is in and you did not win
In your game of sorrow and strife.
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I'm 75-and still alive
My days may be fleeting and few,
But what I've mined
In my life (alone, without a wife)
...

The birds head toward South 'they say'
When winter clears her throat,
They know not why the slant is South-
But they know that it is so.
...

When blossoms hugged my memories
When all was light and fair,
When bombast broke through teenage years
We met-and you were there.
...

They snuggled together as if to get warm
The evening Spring bringing out their ephemeral glee,
The limbs of each tree jiggled with windy delight-
Waving their leaves-I thought-wholly at me.
...

Those golden days that I recall-
No whispers blots or pause,
They're treasures that I treasure still
Mined deep-absent of floss.
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The times they arise-
even though long gone
No longer are we young and inept,
No longer are our scrabblings as dense
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Although they say an ill wind blows no good
As it follows you down your trail,
The gust of Spring- its nemesis-
Billows new life and new hope into ones sails.
...

The signs of winter, no longer being sought-
It's marks being all melted away,
Spring has come; new things are of it's plot-
With foliage and greenery in play.
...

The road of life's a mystery
Which many callow youth don‘t deserve,
Each saunters onto the path he chooses-
But stumbles when the road, it swerves.
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I cannot, for the life of me,
Fly above the clouds,
I cannot soar or wipe the floor
Of opponents, stout or lout.
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Maybe you believe you're a fool-
Because you didn't see which way the road was turning,
Or maybe you think you‘re no jewel-
Because of your stubborn lack of learning.
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Never could I ever find you
Always would I search my best,
Remainders I would find-
Till I was out of my mind
...