In the Park

I pick up my satchel
And run my fingers
over the sunflower patch
That mother sewed on.
Headed for peace and wonder,
I hit the pavement
to search for my own space.
Under the Oak tree
Buried in a hardback
Pretending to be in the country
Beside a babbling brook.
Ignoring the city sounds
I escape my worries
Inside a foreign world
Of someone’s making.

A Hundred Years Gone By

A hundred years from now
Will my grandchildren be shaking their heads
At the state of the world?
Will they be proud of what we fought for,
Or will they see it destroyed?
Will we return to our roots,
And throw out the AI?
Or will we be slaves to robots
And wait for the Jedi?

For My Love

I didn’t think
That love could bring peace.
I didn’t know
That I could walk clouds of trust.
I didn’t try
To make you the center of my world
I didn’t resist
When you made me feel cherished.
I won’t regret
The treacherous long path to you
I won’t forget
That I am yours and you are mine.
I can’t measure
The time we have left.
I won’t dwell
On the future instead of enjoying the present.

No rest

In the car again for my pay
The warm glow of GPS lights my way
The mountains hide the sun’s ray
Another hectic, long day

My family locked in my weary heart
To draw strength from when we’re apart
Tackling problems according to the chart
Surrounded by natural scenic art

The rain begins but it won’t last long
Just relax and sing another song
Enjoying the lonely part, is that wrong?
Sometimes it’s lovely when you come along

Tired to the bone and thinking deep
Muscles sore make me weep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep

CH and Robert Frost

In the water

Cool, crisp waves shock the inner rage.
Suspended weight, I float and the chains disintegrate.
Moving in directions that were before impossible.
Under the surface no sounds can carry
And burn my ears with unrest.
Pursuers are slowed by my protection and blinded in the light
Angered by my freedom and joy of floating.
They reach out and wail
But I am gone.

Ready to Write

Hi everyone. I’m exhausted from my week but ready for some creative refreshment. This marathon always unlocks the lesser used side of my brain. I look forward to reading your work today. Good luck everyone! Stay strong!


Petals lovely in a delicate blue
Fragile and few
Leaning in,
See the lines
And the damage
The imperfections unique
Held too tightly
She collapses
Extinguished by force
Her fragility
Was transparent

A Beautiful Day

She asked me to explore with her
And her tiny hand grabbed mine
We touched leaves and collected flowers
She splashed every puddle
And giggled all the while
So thrilled when we painted the flowers
To hang on the fridge
Her laugh stays with me forever
And I can’t see her smile enough
The color yellow will always remind me
That she wanted to spend time
And giggle and paint

Christmas Memories

Delicate cookies baking in rows
A tower of lights twinkling
Mystery packages with sticky bows
Footie pajamas and puffy over-clothes
Long nights and cold, cold air
Anticipation everywhere
Album art with snow-themed scenes
Icicles hanging from eaves
Fireplace with dancing flames
A cup of cocoa each
Television specials and variety shows
Being tucked in
And kissed on the nose
The night before rich with tradition
Dreams bursting with intuition
Childhood Christmas was blessed
Peace and joy to the rest

The Way

Wandering though the dark
I find a hand to guide me
Tripping over unseen obstacles
I get back on the path
The underbrush grows thick
And I lose my way
Fashioning a tool
I cut my way through
A small light at the end
Makes me press on
I emerge with scrapes and bruises
And find you were always there

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