Sleep

03/05/2017

A gift
you give
your self.
j.g.l.

5:23 a.m.


Often early, I arrive.
Morning provides the time it takes
for my mind to come alive.
Coffee helps. 

Here I will write. Or try.
Depending on the day, and what I
have to say; my journal holds poetry,
incomplete thoughts.

At times I could use a muse. Company
I would not refuse, a smiling face or 
another point of view. Mostly it depends
on circumstance.

The chairs now empty, there is space 
for thought or conversation. Would 
you care to join me to see what that
could be?

April is Poetry Month

the enormity of circumstance


The nature of our being, poetry allows
expression of obvious and, more often,
subtle thought.

Emotions felt and reflected like sunlight
on trees; the enormity of circumstance
growing like leaves.

Naturally we know, not always with care.
Our words cast a shadow; life lived here
and there.

j.g.l.

enough


Teased, we were, with a few days 
of warmth, optimism, enough to melt away 
most of winter’s remains.

But then today, with plans in place, 
more unexpected snow or freezing rain.
Will Spring not ever arrive?

We need a break; we require the sun. 
We count on the seasons, yet we are shunned.
Again. Enough is enough

So, I will hang up my packsack, much to 
my dismay, and again leave my adventures for 
another day.


j.g.l.

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04/13/2026

familiarity

Ideas change, like

the places, like the faces.

   Much like me; different,

each time the mirror

looks back.          I can see

lines on my face becoming

deeper as the years progress,

altering a view I only think

I have witnessed

          in the past.

   Do I see my father, or my

mother in me? Familiarity.

A resemblance; always

meant to be.

© 2026 j.g. lewis

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