Forest Friends: Poem

 

Forest Friends

Forest friendships lays

In the most unexpected ways.

Sweet and cheerful little footsteps

Gentle hearts hop and run

Without any headphones,

Just use the senses and little time.

Little honey boney hops.

Bambi looks for friends to play,

And a hungry fox is on a hunt for prey.

Here comes a night

When the deep woods

Welcome the bright fool moon light.

Forest threshold

Always howls some secrets.

Inside the hollow tree

Live a tiny squirrel free.

There is a snail

On the forest trail.

Friends of forest

Are the small wonders.

Every marvel awe and ponders.

Tomshinsky@2026

Poet Is Not a Job: Poem

 

Poet Is Not a Job

A poet is not a job.

There is no time to sob.

Oak acorn is not a tree

But autumn makes

All the leaves look like flowers

Because every season has powers.

Do I have a five-year plan?

I am learning to open a can.

I want to identify birds

By their songs,

Collect beautiful stones

That reminds me of oak acorns.

A poet is not a job.

I do not have time to sob.

Paper, ink, and ideas that pop up

Make a story come up.

This is the job to be about.

Tomshinsky@2026

Flip Flap: Poem

 

Flip Flap

Flip, flap, and fly.

Get well soon and fly.

Give me a big kiss.

It has been coming for a long time.

Flip, flop, and fly.

Please, do not cry.

Keep your eyes dry!

Just jump and fly.

For everything is its own time.

Let’s fly!

You can bring me down

Anytime,

When the time is right. –

Flip, flap, and fly.

Tomshinsky@2026

Stay Candid: Poem

 

Stay Candid

I took so many moments

For granted

Because I thought

There would be many more moments.

Today, memory shattered,

But not lost.

I did not let

The hard days to win

And stayed candid.

My love story matters

When you live in the moments

Of the memory or two to survived.

Tomshinsky@2026

A Fallen Leaf: Poem

 

A Fallen Leaf

A fallen leaf

Is one of many things

Like a blanket for the roots

And a promise for spring’s

Caprise moods.

A fallen leaf

Is not a promise ring.

Please, do not call it trash

Until dead looking pile of mess

Become a stationary of beauty and grace.

Notice, fallen leaves do not fight the wind.

When season is over,

The autumn leaf is on the cover.

Release it, let it go –

There is work to do!

Autumn leaves do not fall,

The fly and take time

Before they say goodbye.

Please, do not cry!

Stay cozy, warm, and dry

Until new season will arrive.

Tomshinsky@2026

A Girl Named Joy: Poem

 

A Girl Named Joy

I.

Once upon a time there was a girl.

Her name was Joy.

She made a living from what she had.

She always behaved and conducted herself.

Joy never arrived with grand announcement.

Sometimes she appeared in smallest

 Unexpected mounts

And tiny, small moments.

Joy never asked anything

Except to be noticed.

All she wanted

Is to show a little bit of creativity,

Get rid of negativity,

And continue writing with productivity.

II.

One day, Joy decided to be wealthy.

She did it in the way that matters to her,

Very substantial, and healthy –

Rich in slow mornings,

Rich in good stories;

Rich in people who laugh

Until they cry,

Rich in pleasant afternoons spent doing

Absolutely nothing

Beneath very beautiful sky.

Joy did not cry.

Her old soul

Got a call

To be rich in thoughts

And rich in faith. –

Pretty simple, girl, right? –

Everything wonderful in life takes effort.

Joy chose to be wealthy and rich.

Tomshinsky@2026

Romantic Ballad: Poem

 

Romantic Ballad

I.

She gets the best seat at the table.

She gets her favorite music

For comfortable rides

With respect to the passenger’s rights.

A man that can open a jar

Always could see very near and far.

A man that can open a bra

With a little patience,

And I supposed some practice

Goes a long way.

II.

He promised to feel safe, spoiled

And appreciated

In return for good company.

There are more like flirting

For the same penny,

And a maybe little kissing

At the red light

Without any fight.

III.

The word salad

Turned into romantic ballad.

I think that my Beau

Knows a thing, or two.

Is it a romantic ballad,

Or two old farts

Exchanged the rhetoric arts.

Tomshinsky@2026