Two Poems by Andrew Scott

Not Tonight

She puts her face into another school book

Each new subject deserves a new look

Only a little over a year to meet the end game

Where she can put well deserved initials after her name

Now, endless papers to write, books to read

Never letting rest be a mental need

Each day, not one gap

Fearing time missed from taking a simple nap

Sleep would bring a clouded mind delight

But not tonight, not tonight

Her seven year old son comes and tugs on her arm

He is bright eyed, adventurous and full of charm

Tonight, he is just looking for mom to read from a book

She is tired, but cannot resist his look

Many nights have gone by without the proper attention

But she loves him without question

Small moments to make up for time lost

Hope that in the end it will not cost

An expense from giving him a daily, inattentive slight

But not tonight, not tonight

Sometimes suitors come to her door

Occasionally she lets one in but she is not a whore

People are human and get lonely

Especially when it is you and you only

Visitors never get to stay

That would be one more problem to add to the fray

Providing needed attention for a brief moment in time

Long enough to make worries stop on a dime

World’s black days turn bright

But not tonight, not tonight

Balancing life and books are a chore

Waiting for light to wash up on the shore

Stress and confusion are close by neighbours

Relying on the unseen for favours

Shaking without a guiding hand

Inside weak but determined to stand

Fighting the breakdown that could happen every day

Little obstacles that try to make the spirit sway

Falling apart.  Emotions, tensions tight

But not tonight, not tonight

April 16, 2008

© Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2008

 

Snake With A Flower

 

I invite you to visit my mountain

To drink from my fountain

To feel what gives my power

To meet the actual snake with a flower

I have heard stories of my demise

Folktales given by the unwise

Storytellers with no ear

Dishing out tales to cover their own fear

Tales of a great evil

A face around me built by the devil

Escapades covered in sin

Delivered with a lust’s grin

I have heard how I have led all into temptation

The path of right and wrong always leads to confusion

Storytellers say I always will lead you down the wrong path

The pipers marching you to the devious bath

Folklore states that all souls are in my treasury

Amassed by traits of debauchery

Living in heaven, lined with sin

The tales and where they begin

Storyteller’s muse must all be true

Tales of terror that must be thought through

Fires of hell surround my throne

A kingdom built on my own

So, I do invite you to visit this mountain

Share in the gift of the ever giving fountain

Where no judgement gives the power

To this snake with a flower

March 11, 2008

©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2008