Laid back or laziness

                                          A laid-back life is like a breeze that moves the willow tree, It keeps you calm and gives you room to breathe and just be free. But laziness is like a fog that keeps you in your bed, It takes away the open road and leaves a cloud instead. The peaceful mind enjoys the sun and watches clouds roll past, It knows just when to take a break and when to move at last. The lazy heart forgets to plant the seeds that make us grow, And misses out on all the joy that busy people know. One is a choice to slow things down and let your spirit rest, To look around at what you have and feel that you are blest. The other is a heavy heavy weight that holds your feet in place, And keeps you from the happy path and finishes the race. So rest your bones beneath the shade when all your work is through, But do not let the sleepy dust take over all...

The Treacherous Court

 

Upon the high-arched galleries, the whisper starts,

A venom meant for unsuspecting hearts.

Amidst the jewels and tapestries, a sigh,

The silent dagger of a jealous eye.

The courtier's smile is polished, bright, and grand,

The poisoned cup held firm within his hand.

He offers praises like a gilded key,

And speaks of loyalty with treacherous eyes.


The queen, a portrait framed in silk and lace,

Knows not the wolves that haunt her sacred space.

Her trusted confidante, with honeyed tone,

Has sought for years to claim her ivory throne.

The prince, her brother, whispers to the guard,

With promises that leave his virtue scarred.

The bloodline cracks, the royal house divides,

By whispered lies and shifting, treacherous tides.


The banquet hall, a feast of glinting knives,

Where every gesture plans a thousand lives.

The jester, with his bells and painted face,

Sees truth in shadows others can't embrace.

He sees the hands that touch and then withdraw,

The shifting eyes that break the gilded law.

For trust is just a ladder, steep and high,

From which a friend will push you down to die.


The King, so sure his power is supreme,

Awakens from a long and golden dream.

To see the courtiers in their fine array,

And knows they kneel for him, but wait to prey.

He feels the chill of treason's icy breath,

A loyalty repaid with certain death.

The whispers fade, the smiles are now a mask,

And each new day presents a deadly task.


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