The Sun

By Linda A. Copp

The sun comes up,
I'm restless to do,
All the things
I've been wanting to.

The sun comes up,
jump out of bed,
Start writing, down,
the things in me head.

Graphic Designing Bunnie
But, the rhymes don't work,
my storybooks there.
I'm doodling pictures,
I'm lost, gone somewhere.

Can't seem to work
no matter how hard I try.
Nothing to say,
no words, none have I.

And the mornings gone,
the afternoon too.
And the times being stolen,
and wasted, it's true.

And I'll grieve when it's gone
but, now, that it's come,
it seems all my efforts
are silly and dumb.

For who am I,
who cares what I feel,
Does it matter at all,
these words or these feelings, I feel?

Does it count in the end
if I wasted or not,
For who reads the rhymes,
who cares what I thought.

And still it's so, silly
and the sun's going down,
I'm quiet, I'm wordless,
Would be poet, half clown.

And my life's in Tomorrow,
it's promised to her uncertainty,
Still when she comes I wonder,
if she'll remember, me.

By Linda A. Copp
 © June 24, 1971

Restless Word Search

Puppets For Sale!

To Poet's Page: PoetryPoet's Page,

Kids, Seasonal, Geography, As Is, Elder's, Spiritual

Poetry: Films, Music and Links

 Fly To Home PageFly Home  To Egg Site: Table of Site Contents, You Can Get There From HereEgg Site  Links Page: Storytelling, Clowning, Puppetry, Magic, Kids Sites, Holiday, Education, Weather, News, Activity, Search, List of Links.Links

Except where otherwise owner indicated on Copyright page All copy and graphics in this site are including but not limited to 1996-2017 SunnieBunnieZZ
All Rights Reserved, World Wide Comments, observations and suggestions