When Sara and I take our walk each day,
We usually go the same old way.
Today we decided to make a change,
We decided to make our walk free range.
We went to a park named Natural Springs.
It had a dog park and playground with swings.
We chose a trail with overhanging trees,
We had a full sun, but also a breeze.
I saw a small path that led to a stream,
But Sara said, “the path’s too extreme.”
I gave her my, I really want to look,
And she said, “I’ll sit here and read my book.”
I walked a few minutes, looking about,
Then thought, I’m not sure just how to get out.
It wasn’t long ‘til I found the right path.
I crossed the stream without taking a bath.
There was my Sara, as I topped the hill,
She told her new squirrel friend, “here comes my Bill.”
We shared my adventure as we walked away,
We were glad we tried a different way.
Waving daisies, Spikey grass.
Tree branch swords and running fast.
Collecting stones, spider's and worms.
A tire swing with new friends,
We're taking in turns!
Close your eyes, do not peek.
Count to ten, play hide and seek.
Some have seesaws, most have slides,
My favourite are the bars to climb.
Mum packed snacks, picnic munch
Parks are great to eat your lunch!
Fallen acorns, giant leafs, and resting under shady trees.
I love the park , its fun to play.
Spending time here every day.
chipmunks scurrying across the park
dog wants to let loose and play
~ not happening on my watch
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
How are you with long walks
At night through the park
Where shadows pepper the imagination
And thoughts flow on
With nothing to hold them back?
I love to take those walks in the dark
Both alone and with my friend,
Deep through our mind
To visit lost images,
Memories that live in the shadows,
Remnants of the past.
Do we remain in the shadows
Where my friend with knowledge dwells,
Or do we bring to light those images,
Reviving older times now asleep,
Permitting them a chance to escape?
Every age and shape and size,
Dressed in jeans or dresses,
Wearing varied baseball caps
Or showing off their tresses.
Sporting shades or complex tats,
Earrings all a’dangle,
Backpacks, bags of straw or skin,
Kids they need to wrangle.
Speaking tongues I do not know
With accents not quite local,
Conversation mingling with
Some jazzy sounds, sans vocal.
We sit on benches near a band,
The music cool and gentle,
With melodies familiar and
A little sentimental
And watch the people passing by,
The weather adding pleasure
To such a perfect New York day
And one that I will treasure.
I saw my small sister Sofia on a see-saw, she wore a wonderful white waist wrap, her partner Pedro pushed his powerful paws, upon the ground to uplift his board to go up and up but she bumped the broad board to below, the pair played the play in park and play ground.
Eyes didn't organize
The tent drop
Code violation
Ten days an hour, so what week
Use on the monthly?
We not gonna speak
Lost voices in bravado money, can't reach
Such is that meaning why?
Answer four times a second
Birth control that
Building code violation
All over California
Hop
Y'all crawled hip?
Pay my rent
We drive on the left
park in the driveway
and walk on the pavement
over here in the good old U.K.
They drive on the right
and on the parkway
also the pavement
over there in the U.S. of A.
It could be confusing to motorist
and pedestrian alike,
so where should we go
when riding a bike?
ice cream cones will be delivered by the gazebo in the park.
We saw a large lumbering thing coming at us in the dark.
It was an ice cream cone delivery man in form of a red dragon.
Carrying four ices at the same time, his tail never dragg’n.
You need a wagon, we told him, a Red Flyer wagon.
Thank you for the tip, he said. He was a super polite dragon.
We had ice cream cones delivered the next night too.
But this time they were delivered by squirrels, we counted sixty-two.
With a stiff upper lip and old school tie
still it's just not cricket
but the upper crust they say
are on a sticky wicket
to pay the estate or make ends meet
they have conducted tours
of stately homes safari parks
and the family jewels
we used to go to Scarborough Southend-on-Sea
Bognor Brighton Blackpool
have fish 'n' chips for tea
but now for fifty pee we natter
with a Duchess or the Duke
for half a quid a cuppa
with a true blue-blooded bloke
as they're all skint like me and you
there's not a lot a poor Lord can do
but bite the bullet and enjoy
hobnobbing with the hoi polloi
I slowly make my way,
eyeing the perfect place to perch—
the bench sitting in the full sun,
caressing my face with its rays.
I’m drawn to the light
and shy away from the shade.
It gives me a reason to be alive
as I watch the children run around.
So many years spent at the park;
now I am here with my greats,
wishing it was you.
Little bubbles of joy surface
as I smile into those little eyes,
handing a drink box and a hug.
Thankful for the grays in my hair—
a reminder that many do not see—
I reflect on the years gone by.
I do feel some pang of regrets
as the list grows longer,
beads of sweat slowly drip,
mixing with the tears that I try to hide.
I made it here to the golden years
with a big hole in my heart—
a heart that now embraces
the two tiny humans sitting on my knees,
one wanting me to kiss her bobo better.
She jumps down, ready to go play,
and says, Watch me as I swing to the sky.
I let out a little sigh,
as I know you are watching from the sky.
Dedicated to my precious daughter.
While I hold my great-niece and great-nephew close,
I still hold you closer in my heart.
~ To the tune of 'Strangers in the
Night,' by Frank Sinatra ~
Rangers in the park
Two lonely rangers in the park
We're wond'ring in the dark
If they'd catch us necking
by morning’s light
O, Rangers in the park
Two lonely rangers in the park
Suddenly we know
It’s time for us to go ~
They’re filming Noah’s Ark
Doo-be-doo-di-doo... fade out
Baby swing unused for eight years
Glider has sat dormant since 2019
Dual slides; who was the last one to slide down them?
I do not remember because it has been a while
I congratulate myself on making this play park into a dog park
The dogs use the underside of the slides for shade
They have dug holes around the pool
Now our little dog is making mud pies with his paws
I usually give my dogs a treat in Cousin’s Park
This is where my grandchildren once played.
It has a fort, two slides, a swingset, and other kid stuff.
The grandchildren have outgrown it.
I should rename this Dog Park.
But we have a metal sign that says Cousin’s Park.
I don’t want to take that away from the grandchildren.
Sometimes they come up here and goof around.
Pretending they are little again.
Today I popped the lid off the treat tub.
My puppy pushed his head inside, so I could not see.
Dragged things of mine out of it.
My older dog waited. He is more polite.
They both know there are treats in here.
I am glad the raccoons have not found them yet.
I know they would have no trouble whipping off this plastic lid.
I give each dog a treat and settle down to write.
I write ten poem a day up here.
With skateboard tight in hand, his hair cut to the skull,
he takes long drags on cigarettes, flinging each butt
with an easy flick of fingers.
At five feet, slim, in sockless sneakers large for a boy
his size and age, lost in oversized cloths new to his
adolescence, his trousers barely hang on his half
exposed rear, (the latest fad), he moves impatiently
back and forth, spuming cigarette smoke like whale spews
mist from its blow hole, waiting for an older boy, his clone.
Darkness soon smoothers the park and the boy’s clone
appears and they vanish into the night puffing away on
a stronger sweet-scented smoke, laughing, leaving a trail
of quickly fading obscenities. About to leave, my nostrils
catch a whiff of a sweet but unknown drug mixed with
the scent of newly blossomed lilacs, and I quickly snort
and cough it out, recalling something from my boy days
not unlike an odor of premature fruit gone rotten.
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