In the tapestry of time, my age is but a thread,
Woven into patterns, where my thoughts and dreams are spread.
Not the count of years, nor the lines upon my skin,
But the age of my ideas, where youth and wisdom begin.
For thoughts can be as ancient as the oldest star in night,
Or fresh as morning dew under the newborn light.
They dance between the epochs, in whispers and in roars,
Journeying through the ages, opening countless doors.
In my mind, I've walked with Plato, under Athens' sunlit skies,
And pondered with the poets, where the heart of passion lies.
I've dreamed of future worlds, where peace and love prevail,
And innovation's sails are set, with hope as the wind to sail.
It's not the years that weigh me down, or the pace at which they go,
But the freshness of my thoughts, that keeps my spirit aglow.
For as long as curiosity's fire burns bright and clear,
I am ageless, boundless, far beyond a mere year.
So let the calendar mark time, in its relentless, steady trot,
I measure life by the vibrance of the thoughts that I have got.
For it's not how old I am, in the years that I've accrued,
But the age of my thoughts, in their multitude.
March 8, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the gentle whisper of the wind, in the quiet of the dawn,
Lies a question profound, on why our hearts are drawn
To creatures great and small, with spirits free and wild,
Why must we love them so, each beast, each pet, each child?
Because they give us all, without a single demand,
Their presence, a silent gift, in life's shifting sand.
Defenseless against our might, yet they bear us no ill,
In their innocence and trust, our better selves they instill.
Eternal children, they roam, in fields of endless green,
Unmarked by hate or war, a purity unseen.
They know not of wealth or greed, for them it holds no charm,
A shelter from the storm's cold, the only balm.
With eyes that speak volumes, in silence, they convey
Emotions deep and true, in a most unassuming way.
Their gaze, untouched by malice, reflects a soul so pure,
A lesson in being, from which we could learn more.
Free from envy, free from spite, their spirits soar and dive,
In forgiveness, they abound, teaching us to thrive.
Loyalty and fidelity, in their love, we find,
A constancy so rare, a treasure undefined.
They seek not lavish quarters, nor comforts wrought by gold,
Their happiness in simple things, a sight to behold.
Love, they do not purchase, for it's not theirs to buy,
In patient hope, they wait, under the vast, open sky.
Companions true, friends to the end, through every trial, every test,
In their presence, we find peace, in their love, we are blessed.
Alive, so vibrantly alive, in every breath, every mirth,
Their existence, a mosaic, of unquantifiable worth.
For all these reasons and more, their love we must return,
In caring for them, in kind, a greater love we learn.
Closer to the divine, through their unconditional embrace,
In loving them, we find grace, a reflection of God's own face.
March 7, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
Home is where the anchor drops, in seas calm or wild,
A haven safe, a heart's embrace, for every man, woman, and child.
Not just a place, but a feeling, deep and profound,
Where love and laughter, hope and dreams, abundantly abound.
It's not the walls that shelter, nor the roof that stands above,
But the souls within, who share and care, and fill the space with love.
Home is where the anchor drops, through storms or sunny weather,
Binding us together, a tether, holding us forever.
In the heart of home, the hearth burns bright, a beacon in the night,
Guiding us back, through darkness or light, to where everything is right.
Where memories are made, and stories told, of days both new and old,
A treasure chest of moments, more precious than gold.
Home is not a destination, but a journey, ever true,
A place to grow, to rest, to be, a shelter through and through.
Where the anchor drops, there roots entwine, in soil rich and deep,
A sanctuary for the soul, where love does keep.
So here's to home, where the anchor falls, in waters still or blue,
A constant in the changing tides, a refuge, old and new.
May we always find our way back, across the vast, uncharted sea,
To where the heart is anchored, where we are meant to be.
March 7, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the heart of our home, where the warmth nestles near,
A pillow proclaims, with a message clear.
Not just fabric and fluff, but a throne for our peer,
"Move over," it says, "the cat lies here."
This cushion, a kingdom, for our feline dear,
A realm where they reign, without any fear.
A spot so sacred, the rules are severe,
"Move over," it whispers, "the cat's comfort is premier."
Beneath the sun's rays, or the moon's soft veneer,
This pillow holds stories, memories we revere.
In its fibers and threads, love's woven tier by tier,
Marking the spot where the cat draws near.
Here, in this haven, the message is sheer,
A declaration of love, loud and clear.
For our whiskered companion, we cheer,
"Move over," the pillow says, "for the cat lies here."
In this cozy corner, where the cat commandeers,
We find joy and laughter, year after year.
So let it be known, far and near,
"Move over," the pillow declares, "our heart's pioneer."
March 6, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In a world that stretches wide and far,
My loyal dog, a guiding star,
He looks out the window, a steadfast gaze,
Lost in the beauty of the trees' maze.
For hours on end, he stands so still,
Watching life unfold at the windowsill.
Every motion, every fluttering leaf,
Brings him excitement, a joyful belief.
He shakes, he barks, with all his might,
A guardian through the day, a sentinel at night.
Then silence falls, he's calm once more,
Gazing at the world he seems to adore.
I wonder, in his silent watch, what does he see?
A world beyond our grasp, a secret key?
Protecting me, with unwavering faith,
His presence a shield, a powerful wraith.
Against all evil, he stands so brave,
Ensuring my safety, the path he paves.
With him by my side, I fear no fray,
Safe and sound, night and day.
In his eyes, a world unseen,
A bond unspoken, forever keen.
My dog, my friend, through thick and thin,
Together we face what lies within.
March 6, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
The Dog Sits Here
In a cozy nook of our home, where sunlight softly peers,
Lies a cushion, not just any, but where the dog commandeers.
A simple pillow, it might seem, to uninformed eyes,
But it holds a declaration, a claim that implies:
"Move over," it whispers, with embroidered cheer,
"This spot is reserved, for the dog sits here."
Not just a spot for resting, but a throne, it's clear,
For our furry friend, whom we hold so dear.
Here, amidst the laughter, the joy, and the tears,
Through seasons and moments, through hopes and fears,
This pillow stands sentinel, year by year,
A symbol of love, for our canine peer.
So let the world know, as we hold them near,
That this isn't just any place, it's where the dog steers.
In this corner of comfort, without any jeer,
"Move over," the pillow says, "the dog sits here."
March 6, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
ap777.org
In the realm of whispers, shadows cast,
I stand, a Pitbull, holding fast.
Misjudged by many, known by few,
A fighter in a battle that grew.
Not in the rings of rage and roar,
But in the silence of my core.
A foe unseen, a harsher war,
Cancer, the shadow at my door.
With every breath, a battle cry,
Under the quiet, starlit sky.
Strength not in jaws or fearsome might,
But in each day I rise to fight.
And so I stood, with heart aflame,
Against a foe that many name.
Through pain and fear, my spirit soared,
In battles not chosen, but never ignored.
The only fight I've ever known,
Was one that chilled to the bone.
Yet here I stand, beneath the sun,
A warrior's tale, bravely won.
I am a Pitbull, hear my call,
Not in arenas, but life's hall.
A survivor, in every sense,
My victory, my recompense.
March 6, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
As my mind begins to empty in my old age
I must refill it with good to turn a new page
As the old creeps out, I must let the new come in
Only in this way can I be alert and live again
A dead mind leads to a dull life, I must say
An alert mind leads to happiness along the way
March 6, 2024
MarkWaldrop
In the tapestry of life, so wide and vast,
Each thread intertwines, from first to last.
"Everything for a reason," the wise often say,
In its own season, finds its way.
Spring's first bloom, after winter's chill,
Teaches patience, to wait for what will.
Summer's warmth brings growth to light,
Reminding us to strive, to reach new heights.
Autumn's leaves, in colors bold,
Show change is beauty, as life unfolds.
Winter's snow, so pure and clear,
Whispers rest, and draws loved ones near.
Through joy and sorrow, sunshine and rain,
Life’s seasons teach us, again and again.
Everything has its time, its own reason to be,
In this beautiful cycle, we find clarity.
So let us embrace, whatever the season,
For life's myriad moments, hold deeper meaning.
"Everything for a reason," a mantra so true,
In every season, life renews.
March 5, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
Penned for a dear family member
In the quiet dawn of '70, beneath the boundless sky,
Where birds once soared in numbers, beneath the sun so high.
A silence has descended, where songs once filled the air,
Thirty percent have vanished, leaving emptiness to bear.
Habitats once lush and wild, forests deep and grand,
Have dwindled under human touch, across this sprawling land.
Meadows, marshes, woods, and streams, homes to winged delight,
Now bare, transformed, or lost, a sorrowful, fading sight.
More people, fewer birds, a truth we cannot hide,
Our footprint grows, the earth it groans, in this selfish stride.
Nests abandoned, echoes fade, in skies once vibrant and alive,
A testament to what's at stake, for those who still survive.
Yet, in this tale of loss and woe, a glimmer yet remains,
A chance to change, to heal, to grow, to break these binding chains.
To restore the balance, plant the seed, of a future bright and fair,
Where birdsong fills the morning light, a chorus in the air.
Let us heed the call of nature, with gentle, caring hands,
Rebuild the homes, preserve the wild, across these precious lands.
For in the harmony of life, where diversity is key,
Lies the beauty of our world, in its soaring melody.
March 5, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
