Good Morning

Good morning coffee 

Hello news 

What do you have to offer

That won’t make me blue?

Good morning Facebook 

Hello timeline

I’ll take a quick look

To see if you’re fine

Good morning commute

Hello white lines

Alone and mute 

To which is perfectly fine

Good morning thoughts

Hello prayers 

To all things sought

In life’s layers

Good morning cold

Hello drizzly rain

Yes I’m feeling old

But free of pain

Good morning Mr. Officer

So what did I do?

I didn’t think I was faster

Than any average Joe

Good morning train

Hello Mankato

You’re such a royal pain

I have places to go

Good morning 

To all.

By Dave Schipper © 2018 Rose Riversongs

Sconnie Girl

You are one smart woman

You wear freckles as your tan

Like stone beads over pearls

You are my Sconnie girl

When it comes to cheese

You say a little extra please

You won’t wear it as a bra or hat

But see nothing wrong with that

You never worry about the cold

Cause you have a new hat to show

When the last blizzard came

You said "rather snow than hurricane."

Spring means biking again

A brisk shot of cold wind

You live here for a reason

Just love the change of seasons

You prefer Brown to an IPA

Goes down easy on a summers day

Just sit back and watch the river go bye

And listen to some good music live

You know fall will bring football

Badgers and Packers and all

Still you will find time to ride

50 and sunny no time to hide inside

You are one smart woman

You wear freckles as your tan

Like stone beads over pearls

You are my Sconnie girl

by Dave Schipper (c) 2018 Rose Riversongs

Lowlands

Going past the lines of trees in the low lands

Single thought comes across my mind

It was the day we gently held hands 

With no word or meaning to find

The crunch of snow in blue sky morning

We laughed at whatever each said

Then by noon with each of us leaving

A farewell kiss put this love to bed

A woodland dream

A lake of steam

The silent answer

A field of corn

A love forlorn

The hidden cancer

And in the end

You were my friend

The pretty dancer

In the long lines of trees in the low lands

My soul refreshed with memories

It was as if I could feel your hands 

I never thanked you for the stories.

by Dave Schipper (c) 2018 Rose Riversongs.