I’m having a tough day, yesterday was too.
I walk around everywhere with a pebble in my shoe.
And my problems - they are the tallest on the planet.
Like what a mountain is made of, I take it for granite.
Then all my bills soak up all the money I have owned.
I asked a friend for help, but he just looked at me stoned.
Finally my worries - I can’t seem to escape them.
Playing on my phone has been every day’s only gem.
So if you have an idea, just come around and knock.
And help me get out from under this rock.
When it’s October, the maple trees turn red.
Ash trees turn yellow, some orange instead.
A beautiful sight to see best on a sunny day.
Autumn leaves are witnessing mother nature at play.
We drive to a hill, to obtain a better view.
Park by the hiking trail, other people are there too.
The cool morning air would be good for a hike.
A walk would be good, as I already hung up my bike.
The leaves have also turned in my few yard trees.
They will all fall off, when we next get a breeze.
When I was young, I played in them like a pup.
But the fun is over – because I now must rake them up.
J. M. Allen is a 50+ year old, who recently started writing a bunch of rhyming poems. His rhyming poems have appeared in the last year in: Poetry Potion, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Grand Little Things, Lighten Up Online, Rue Scribe, Adelaide Lit Magazine, The Asses of Parnassus, Bluing the Blade (Tempered Runes Press), Instant Noodles (Devil’s Party Press), The Parliament Lit Journal, and pending publish in an anthology. He is a long-time resident of Rochester, Minnesota.