You piqued my interest standing there,
and in that instant I was aware.
I knew you existed,
there was music in your voice.
your red hair braided; twisted,
you were the perfect choice.
I loved the way your hips did sway,
when you went walking by.
and every day you’ve been away
I’m left to wonder why.
The day we met stays with me,
I wish that you could know,
You’ve left your heart here with me,
You had me at hello!

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

Written to prompt for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 17 Greeting


Gone are the days where we played
for hours and hours, skinning knees
and trampling flowers, thinking
our futures were an eternity away.

Not steeped in naivete, I’d say
we lived in the moment, and a moment
lasted a lifetime back then.
We made our friends (lost a few)

and you knew they had your back
when it was up against the wall.
All-in-all a great situation
passed down through generations.

We never noticed we were aging,
staging ourselves for our parent’s roles,
loving souls who supported and protected
and never rejected any idea as bad.

They had their flaws, but they were ours,
and that mantle came faster than we expected.
People passed; we were blessed to have been
in their realm of love. And above all that,

we were given the opportunity to grow in unity
and share life’s pleasures. And sorrows.
All our tomorrows are borrowed; gone too fast.
The death knell for a bat out of hell!

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

Inspired by POETIC ASIDES – Day 17 (“Express” Poem)



I heard the “clank” with my spade in the ground
on the day the “squirrel” was found,
I was most intrigued by the sound
my pointed shovel made.

Interest piqued, quick as you please,
trowel in hand, down on my knees
underneath the poplar trees,
I toiled in the shade.

The soil around the steel was hard
as I kept digging in my yard,
and I wished I had a small petard
to blast this treasure free.

I almost gave up on my quest,
but I had vowed to do my best
and if you could do better, be my guest…
so alone I kept on digging.

I pushed and strained and dug and dug
unearthing caches of dead bugs,
and a couple hundred slimy slugs;
my back was sore and achy.

And finally the piece broke free,
underneath the poplar tree,
it was intact as far as I can see
mud-clotted and quite rusted.

It was a “squirrel” I busted back for,
it was a cast iron squirrel shaped nut cracker,
much muscle spent to set it free,
this squirrel was truly a nut cracker.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013