And here we are, April the 30th. My oh my how this month has traveled quickly. Here one minute, May the next.
I must be honest with you all. I only cheated I think twice this month, in that I posted older writings. The other poems for the month were brand new, and most of those were written rather quickly, like within one hour. I think the longest I spent writing one of April’s poems was just short of one hour, 45 minutes. Honest. I hate to say it, but that’s how most of my poetry comes to me, quick and to the point, like a ping pong ball caught up in a twister.
Seriously though, I’d like to thank those of you who have commented on my writings. You know who you are, and you also know how much I am thankful for the opportunity to do this. It has been a challenge, but it has also been a lot of fun.
I enjoy writing. Always have, always will, I hope. I wish I had done more of it during my young adult years, but it just wasn’t meant to be. You see, a little thing called life caught up to me and chucked me ahead thirty or so years, and here I am. Grin
To my writing friends, thanks for another month of inspiration. To all of my friends, thanks for another month of friendship. To my God and my family, I run out of words after, “Thank You”.
Until next year, I hope the rest of this year brings you the gifts you will always remember. I hope that your health is good, and that your cup is full, every single day.
Thanks again, and always take care.
A poem by Deon Patrick Lyons
And so, April the 30th has come once again.
The errand of a fool must give way to a new name.
A new cycle of birthdays have celebrated the magic of their day.
The torch of spring will be handed off to the runner marked number 5.
Thirty days have patiently graced our paths.
Thirty nights the moon has fallen behind the night before.
Thirty times the earth has spun around.
Thirty different sunsets have followed thirty dawns.
Energetic hands of the clocks have kept us company throughout.
A billion cars have driven a trillion miles
One moon’s tides have all brought the treasures of the sea to our shores.
Eyes of innocence have watched a month of April sunrises.
Thousands of shooting stars have streaked across the spring nights.
A month full of tears has been wiped away by one single smile.
The cries of the newborn have filled the chambers of a beating heart.
May will come, as April did pass.
Another month older, thirty days wiser.
The sun climbs higher as the nights grow short.
The geese are beginning to unpack their summer luggage.
Thirty poems have filled the screen.
Thirty stories have found their way.
Thirty posts have hit the net.
Thirty ways this goat has smiled.