Raise your glass
and toast this day.
Hale and hearty
may you stay.

Wishes for a happy year,
full of love
and joy
and cheer.

May your pockets
hold great treasure,
may your goodness
match its measure.

And I wish your dreams
will all come true,
I share my love,
here’s to you!

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2018


Am I blue?
It may be true.
In my view
I eschew what I choose,
a coup on my resolve.
I could solve new problems
(I’m well over due)
But, there are few
who do that voodoo
that you do.
When I’m down, my hue
is something I rue.
It may be true.
I might be blue.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2019


Another verse that’s written from my heart,
a true emotion searching for repose.
Just a room in which it can take comfort,
a soul museum to display my art.

A biting poem piercing like a dart,
a loving poem like a lover’s kiss.
The saddest poem anyone could read,
to let a foolish poet play his part.

For in his heart is where his poems start,
expressions written from the poet’s soul.
They all come home to live inside his words,
a world in which all reason will depart.

Another verse that’s written from the heart,
these poems live and breathe in every rhyme.
A soul museum to display my art.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2019