poetry infused with art
children played
mothers watched
siblings pumped water
all was well with the world
it’s a new setting
no more fists flying
soccer balls in the air
new relationships
on the horizon
This land is filled with anger and frustration. What a great day when children of all ages play instead of fight. My eyes watered when a big boy reached his hand to help a younger boy who had tripped kicking the ball.
I touched a place
I hadn’t wandered in a year
my ten-year old me
painful memories so near
I meandered through a wood
it had been too long
I lay beneath the breeze
heard familiar old songs
I looked for a friend
gone too long ago
she reached out her hand
and took me in tow
I visited old people
they fit like a glove
“thanks” a small word
when they shower you with love
I touched a place
I hadn’t wandered many a year
I stood in old shoes
scar’s lessons – need not fear
Poets United Midweek Motif is prompting us to write about Recovery. There are so many forms of recovery. We can recover from physical ailments, addictions, or pain inflicted by others. What does recovery mean to you?
It was cold down there
where my leg once hung
I never talked to my limbs
now I hold long conversations
with something that is forever gone
We made memories
palled around as friends
we were a team you and I
well we were
I guess good things all have to end
Think about “Us”
If you could do it all over
would you run off
at the first sign of trouble
leave me without cover
I always thought
you’d stand and fight
misconceptions run in my family
you were more concerned
about being right
*** For all those who have suffered amputation it is not an easy thing you face. That part of you will never get better and your diligence is required everyday to prevent infection. I met a man at the hospital and he was one his third bout of losing more of his foot. He had a great attitude about it I might add but his feet I could tell had become his friends.
So many bright memories
when we were young
if I could pull one string
memories would unravel and sing
Your favorite cake cut, 16 pieces
somehow shattered the moment
no one could understand
inside you cried
kaleidoscopic do they turn
island letters on soup can labels
and crushes on boys
such are a young girl’s toys
the merry-go-round up and downs
so many presents still to be wrapped
burning late Christmas Eve light
sharing dreams long into the night
the stability you gave
my life in chaos
much more than absurd
no one could love just hurt
I offer you a wish over many miles
you deserve candles
and so much more
I’m bringing chocolate cake to your door
This poem is written for a good friend who put up with so many of my highs and lows (in life.)
Blessings to you Lorodd, you deserve the best.
Photography: Moondust Designs 2014. (The shot is a candle in front of my Christmas tree.)
Gone are summer’s days
many voices many sounds
where we played in sun’s rays
children all around
Never forgotten
are the ones who with wag
give crisp autumn smiles
lost season’s sag
Gone is winter’s stormy pain
your fingers drew a daggered edge
angled at my heart
free once more to fledge
Never forgotten passage’s tears
winding about all but dead
willing life to sprout
binding spring of winter rid
The daily post photography challenge is Gone but not forgotten.
What shelf is broad enough
to place my burdens and my pains?
what jug deep, wide and stout
my tears won’t wash away?
Where can I lay my head
a little rest to gain?
your hand I reach for in the night
and beg you please to stay
*
I wander in the shadows now
not sure what tomorrow brings
but this my cry into the night
I will not fail to sing
my voice no longer is in tune
(tho) you hear with no hindering
I smile because I know you care
you bear me on broad wings
This poem is written to encourage any of you who feel too weak to raise your head off the pillow of sorrow, loneliness or pain.
Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him…
Psalm 37:7
On God my salvation and my glory rest; The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God.
Psalm 62:7
Today – I’d like to share this with Poet’s Pantry and GodVerse.
all the machinery is oiled
tucked away for another year
hands are chapped and stained
jeans are beyond repair
long lines of jars
are waiting for papa
to put away
*
the air is filled with spice
and the kids are keen
tonight we bundle up
jars of corn,potatoes, and beans
given as an offering
thrown into a pot
we hunker down with a cup
*
tear off some bread
cross-legged on the ground
some laugh others holler
the tractor pulls around
“come on kids time for a spin”
young and old
jump on the hay hauler
*
moonlight graces the fields
smiles on the hard work
and for another year
is pleased with our effort
the bonfire no longer shy
limbs and cornstalk fuel
meeting the night starry clear
*
sparks seem to fly
dessert cooks on the end of a stick
marshmallows with chocolate the best
children’s gooey hands they lick
we look into year-end embers
packing up our memories
& bid “goodbye” to another harvest
This weeks Poets United Midweek Motif celebrated the Bonfire. So whether its inspired by Guy Fawkes or a successful harvest gather round the fire.
Last year’s Harvest offering.
My serendipitous wanderings
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