Sky gallery –
anything but banal –
recalls innocence
Geese attempt
an instinctual dance
(few will actually migrate)
Cheers this aging mind,
also prone to redundant acts –
sexagenarian fun.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Sky gallery –
anything but banal –
recalls innocence
Geese attempt
an instinctual dance
(few will actually migrate)
Cheers this aging mind,
also prone to redundant acts –
sexagenarian fun.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Serenity every day,
I pray from the frayed edges
chaos rattling, pains howling
Laundry waits in piles
of incompletion – like my life –
demands eroding worth
Hush! I scold the voices
of discontent, the discord
exhausting – I am trying!
Serenity! I pray,
my hands are burdened,
my psyche losing ground
I stop and close my eyes
follow breath in and out
will myself to calm
Serenity steps in –
a moment of respite
available every day.
(Image my own)
Checking symptoms for possible diagnosis: tab 1
Searching for gluten free recipes for leftover turkey: tab 2
Black Friday specials on tab 3
Writing a blog post on tab 4
Email on tab 5
Too many tabs open to concentrate
and Christmas is looming
and the fridge needs cleaning
and I got the groceries
but forgot the milk
and potatoes
and guests are coming
and laundry is piling up
and,
and,
and…
Somewhere at the bottom of the pile
is a note to self:
compassion.
(For Reena’s Xploration Challenge: My brain has too many tabs open; and Eugi’s Weekly prompt: compassion. Image my own)
Freezing drizzle
and aching joints
elevate doubt
We are forging
into unknowns,
claiming change
His motivation
drive for both –
I quiet objections
Faith, I have in him
Trust, I have in process,
Hope as my beacon
Many a storm
has passed our way –
the choice is easy
Stay and rot
or risk and thrive –
hand in hand, we leap.
(Four years ago, Ric and I sold our house and all our possessions and headed south in a motor home.  Both of us had experienced life-altering medical crises, and the alternative – staying put and waiting for the next health challenge – was not appealing, so we took the leap. After two years, we returned and settled in a small community not far from family. Health continues to be an issue, but armed with the memories of our travels, we face each day grateful for our choices.)
Image my own.
Father’s scrutiny
inspired terror,
but that night,
catching the whiff
of alcohol on
underage breath,
I spied a hint
of a sparkle –
dared say so
“Chip off the ol’ block, eh?”
“Don’t you know it,”
he winked back.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own)
Forgive the dance –
it’s what I do –
step forward,
slide back,
shuffle, then
lose the rhythm
and start again.
Reaching forward
heart securely tucked,
something embedded –
cellular perhaps –
invites the struggle
and so, I dance –
yesterday, a warrior
today the fool
tomorrow only knows
multi-faceted,
roughly cut,
a gem
of an undefined hue
I will always try again.
(Poem first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II, entitled “Forgive The Dance”, October, 2019. Image my own.)
Cornflower submits
to Time’s deadlines
so, why am I always
gasping to catch up?
Is it strength, or failure
to amplify pressure –
expectations set on high?
Oh, to be a simple flower.
(Photo my own).
Envisioning breakup –
past haunting possibility –
she navigates uncertainty
an angry dreamer
Tries to settle on truth
but with rage as filter
she processes and processes
reaching no solid ground
Love, she concludes,
is beyond availability
plans a solitary existence
until vulnerability caves again.
(for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: haunting, and Reena’s Xploration challenge: filter.
Image my own.)
Summer yearns
sun burning
water cooling
life affirming
longing for love
I would hold you there
in those days of youth
when relationship
donned mystery
and fear shrouded
the path
But Autumn reigns now
a time for letting go
a time for turning
back clocks – time
lost in a mere blink
on the shores
of our story
And soon Winter
when I will knit
our memories
into cozy dreams
and while away
the frosty mornings
sipping from the cup
of moments lost.
(Eugi’s Weekly Prompt is : Autumn. Image my own)
Every child a dreamer
school the tribunal
where imagination
is sentenced to death
Adulthood is a canyon
where ambition shelters
the broader view, till age
resurrects the child.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)