A Silly Time Pass

"A Silly Time Pass"

 I am very sorry,

But I have a story. 

So, do not worry,

You have a choice to get lost.

I will make sure, it will be post.

Please, make yourself a nest and rest.

Once upon a time...

It was winter, and it was frost.

And you know,

It was snow, snow, and more snow.

It was very cold up North.

Well, I pulled out

My hand from the mitten and toast

With the 'stoly' in berry,"

"May the North meet South!"

Does not this sound merry?

This tale does not have fair,

Almost like the life's tear.

I cannot fail the verse.

It is artificially, silly,

Scientific, and not.

This is a fast test: 

A metamorphoses quest,

A time pass,

An exercise, and odd,

A scry to try.

(Tomshinsky@2023)

On Writing Poetry

 

Some people write poems for the thrill and 

comfort of finding out what are the 

personal points of thinking and feeling are. 

Other people simply love the way words 

sound, how they inform, and guide the conversation. 

There is some kind of relief of what I crave 

in the process of weaving something whole and

surprising as the element from various 

sounds and symbols.

You never know from where the inspiration comes. 

When I am fascinated by the story or event, when I'm

excited, the poem takes life; and it shows in writing

both wondrous and poignant to celebrate what

amazes me and decry what wounds the world in 

which we work and live.

I was trained both in arts and sciences. 

There is this moment when you get signals 

from universe and actually, get an answer. 

It is like something is speaking to you, 

and for a moment, you are the only one 

who knows it. Then you get to put it on paper, 

be brave and share it with the world.

IT@2023

"Let It Snow:" Book Display

Photographer: Ida Tomshinsky

It is the time of the year,

when boys and girls are 

ready for a good

story time.

"Where can I find happiness? -

asked the Fox.

"In the simple things," replied the Moon.

"Like shared moments, stories, and stars."

(Fox under the Moon" by Stacey McNeil)

 

Crack of Sundown

I

Do you run in the early morning?

Yes, I do. It is not boring.

Run, run, and run...

One-step, two steps, and more of fun

To unite thoughts and body in one universal shell

When on the move rings the happy bell.

Nevertheless, it is only for me

Because when I run, I am free.

One-step, two steps: one, two, three

Until I reach my spotted tree.

I enjoy the process of moving, breathing, and sweating,

Moreover, greeting the sunup of the early morning.

Later on, such a pleasure and privilege

When I taste my first beverage! 

In the early morning, I am touched by the wind

In the playful land on the beachside wind

And I am kissed by the sun

When I run, run, and run.

Why said I could not have fun?

II

By the daylight, I run

Simply by moving and stretching my arm

Toward the edge of the line

That is very fine.

It is very simple

To get humbled,

Just run, run, run,

And have fun!

To power of my muscles

Is like little rascals -

Create energy to move the Earth

And give the birth

To the crack of sundown,

Just by move of my arm.

(Tomshinsky@ 2022)

Treasury Box

 

If I have a treasury box

Without a treasure from us,

What would you put in it?

I would have a lovely heart

And some fine art.

I would have a deep soul

For all.

I would have passion,

With creation. I would have a great spirit,

Without any limit,

To feel

And fulfill

The treasury box 

From us.

We are giving you the box of treasure

And you will measure

The fine art

Of a lovely heart,

The deep soul

Of whole,

The passion,

With creation,

The great spirit

That does not have any limit.

(Tomshinsky, 2007)

 

From "Baby's Mother Goose"

"The north wind doth blow,

And we shall have snow, 

And what will the robin do then,

Poor thing?

He'll sit in the barn,

And keep himself warm,

And hide his head under the wing, 

Poor thing!"

("Baby's Mother Goose")

Who Has Seen the Wind

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I or you:

But when the leaves hang trembling

The wind is passing through.

Why has seen the wind?

Neither you or I:

But when the trees bow down their heads

The wind is passing by.

(Christina G. Rossetti)

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