It’s like deja vu all over again – as my life is turning out to be one big cliché.
I am continually trying to prove that you’re only as old as you feel.
And I don’t feel my age, yet the mirror on the wall tells a story or two…
I stare into bloodshot eyes, searching for the next challenge, because
It ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings
(and, heck, there aren’t any fat ladies in my life at the moment.)
Rolling sevens, with an ace in the hole, and guess where the horseshoe is?
I’m covering the bases, playing hard ball and looking to hit it out of the park.
I need to keep my eye on the ball and with the lemons given to me – make lemonade.
Yet, I’m neither clever nor profound; there’s no diamond in the rough.
I’ve come to believe we’re all human – that and a quarter will get you a cup of coffee…
My hope is this cloud has a silver lining and today is but the calm before the storm.
I’m ready to answer the bell and not pull any punches; I’ll dance, shuffle,
I’ll whistle pass graveyards if need be; for what goes around will come around and
I’ve come to know all’s well that ends well; all live happily ever after – and I will too.
So, there’s hope. Fact is all that glitters is not gold and this game is too close to call.
In reading between the lines I see that the writing is on the wall;
it’s in this mirror, staring right back at me; if only
I could keep one straight thought and not slide sideways with yet another cliché.
(Through the summer months I wrote 10 poems that are compiled under the title: Almonte and the summer of 2013 that was. If you are interested in receiving this compilation, connect with me – firstname.lastname@example.org – and provide your e-mail.)