Extract of grumpa

The things that come tomorrow
show up before I sleep
and never are they good things
but things that crawl and creep

The humor shows up darkly
and sits upon the page
I never laugh at these things
this gives me cause for rage

Others try to make me laugh
with much that is inane
I need some hearty belly laughs
before I go insane...
 
 

The clowns of my childhood are passing and some...
are crashing to earth, their goodwill undone
God love him, Red Skelton and George Burns with grace...
left us with a chuckle, a smile on the face

Now, good guys and bad guys
they all laugh the same
to give them a reason
You don't need a  name

Let them depart heroes
for heroes they are
Could you cheer your countrymen
off in a war...
or comfort a mother
with burial chore

It's surely disheartening
when expecting hope
your clowns turn to villains
when time takes it's toll

Another day is shutting down it's beauty to darkness.
The fields were stripped bare of the harvest and the discing is nearly over. I can see now, what I will watch all winter, a lone towering elm in the middle of the naked rows. From here, she still looks green, but soon it will be a bare sentry overseeing the few birds and rodents picking up the crumbs and rabbits hiding from the hunter's eyes.
Far across the fields, on the horizon, the man managed growth of other trees are visible. They are not so lonely as this old giant, they are huddled around homes and families who love them in the seasons they exist. The climbing children, the succulent fruits, the shade from a harsh summer sun, They are appreciated.
The giant elm has no ties with man anymore and awaits the lightning or decay to put it one with the earth.
The modern man ignores this friend of the previous generations, he sits high among all his creature comforted machines and only curses the diversion from a straight row. No need, old friend to sit and feel the damping of the rays under your leaves. I have outgrown your protection, joy and comfort...but you still are a beauty in my eyes.