by cricketjeff on July 13, 2010.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
Clutter accumulates,
    piles of this and that;
Undisciplined thoughts
      and unremembered hopes
              vie for space in depths
                    I didn’t know I had.

Half-finished schemes
        and half-started dreams
                spin themselves into rhymes
                      and new tomorrows.

You are here,
    you are always here,
          around each corner
                and under every pleasant surprise.

Work and play jostle each other,
      get confused and merge together,
            friends pop in, pop up, pop out,
                  smiles abound, and frowns and tears
                        try to stay out of sight.
I am here too,
    all the mes,
there is the small and frightened me,
      lost on some long forgotten shopping trip.
The proud new father
      strutting his stuff.
The lover, the friend, the chance encounter;
      we are all here,
            busy moving the furniture;
                  searching for all there is to find,
            For all that’s on my mind.

Author notes
A couple have people have asked if “mes” in the second line of the fifth stanza
is a typo for mess, it isn’t it’s the plural of “me” not a word that’s used
very often [Posts%20by%20cricketjeff%202_files/happy.gif]