The Jeweler's Hands

These manicured nails
Symbol of opulence or
Facade of purpose 

© pending Susan R. O’Brien

Fleeting Childhood

He races like the wind, then stops on a dime

When he spots a tree with branches to climb

He can’t be held back, a spirited foal

His infectious laughter embraces my soul

I would slow it down if only I could

This little boy’s fleeting childhood

His legs are restless, no sitting still

Propelled by curiosity and a bit of will

No rock unturned, no flower ignored

Adventures together never leave me bored

I would slow it down if only I could

This little boy’s fleeting childhood

He runs through days with vigor and zest

Having him in my life I’m surely blessed

Our journeys bring me untold pleasure

Our time together a priceless treasure

I would slow it down if only I could

This little boy’s fleeting childhood

© pending Susan R. O’Brien

Three Little Cats

Climbing the wall were three little cats
Their ears were sharp like those of a bat
They must run lots as none were fat
So cute and adorable to just look at
I wanted to reach over and give each a pat
But they didn't look in the mood to chat
The trio were obviously told to scat
From whichever place they formerly sat
Maybe from beneath a lady's hat
Or hiding from a sharp-fanged rat
Or a restaurant owner pointing a gat
Who found them licking milk from his vat
Possibly the triplets had a ferocious spat
With a pack of dogs with powerful lats
Barely escaping through a fence with slats
A threesome of kittens can be pesky like gnats
But never could any one be called a brat
Maybe they search for a welcome mat
Where kittens aren't made to give tit for tat
Just a lap full of love...and that was that

© pending Susan R. O’Brien

Golden Years

Memories start to fade away

Like a dream hard to remember

Tomorrow may forget today

Yesterday a floating ember

Blue skies dissolve to hazy gray

April collides with December      

Familiar strangers hold your hand

Smiling faces you scarce recall

Voices echo from a distant land

Obscure photographs on the wall

Golden years so eagerly planned

Not unlike a masquerade ball

Bucolic paths for tranquil walks

Serene adventures that you seek

Quiet times for reflective talks

Lauded right to let silence speak

No pressing need to race the clock

Youthful desires past their peak

You journey your last few miles

Notice your world dwindle in size

Respectful of all life’s trials

How countless years have made you wise

Go forth with endearing smiles

Keep the glow in your sparkling eyes

© pending Susan R. O’Brien

Where Rainbows Go

I found the place where rainbows go

When they vanish from the sky

Melted crayons, like lava flow

I found the place where rainbows go

After putting on a festive show

And discovered their colors never die

I found the place where rainbows go

When they vanish from the sky

© pending Susan R. O’Brien

Peace

PEACE
Repose
Serenity
Rocker aside the hearth
Purring cat on braided rug
Shawl draped over narrow shoulders

"aging gracefully"

© pending Susan R. O’Brien

By My Window

Mornings by my window I write

Words come with ease by early light

At oaken desk with pen in hand

I watch the sun rise on the land

Red maple tree, sparrows in flight

Mornings by my window I write

Lasso the mist on distant glen

With ink which flows from anxious pen

Rivers dry up then overflow

Springtime rain turns to winter snow

Mornings by my window I write

Of changing seasons, nature’s flight

Trees shed leaves, yellow tulips bloom

I see all from within my room

Voyeur of my world, nothing trite

Mornings by my window I write

© Copyright pending Susan R. O'Brien