I’m so looking forward to participating in this year’s half marathon!

This will be my third half marathon and I’m betting it’s going to be the best one yet.
We’ve all been through so much in the last year, some of it positive, but most negative and for those of us returning for another 12-24 hours of head scratching, brain frying, poetry fun, we made it!
Good luck to all.
Take care and stay safe.
Hugs all around (via the internet air waves, of course).
Ready for it?


Hour Twelve – The Finish Line!

Twelve in Twelve

I am tired
My head hurts and the eyes burn.
Thoughts that once raced through the cobwebs and dust are now
Curled up, napping
Sleeping neurons refuse to work
Won’t awaken the inner being and draw it out
Take the drowsy spirit and bring it alive
Empty thoughts and words are slow to move
Emotions slip away refusing to leap to paper or screen
It is the twelfth hour and the finish line near
One last poem, only this one and that is no joke
A final burst of energy
A spark and ignition made
This is it
You made it
Twelve in twelve again
Thank you for hosting
Letting me attend once more
Congrats to all you halfers like me
We made it
We survived.

Hour Eleven

I cannot hear you, but I feel your rage
A vibration spreading across the floor up my feet and into my chest
Shattering the serenity of my body as I relaxed in my chair
Now tense and worried
A glimmer of electricity splits the sky illuminating the heavens black and boiling
Tearing through the smoke-coloured clouds rendering them apart only to close
Coming together angry at being disturbed
Shooting out spheres of hardened rain downwards crashing onto all blocking its way
The wind whips up pushing the snarling beast aside
Peace soon returns
The floor stills
Roadways and trees glisten in the brightening sky
Little white specks take refuge from the sun’s rays.
Tranquility is restored

Hour Ten

White Rose

My British Rose of purest white petals born on the moors of Yorkshire
Beautiful and adventurous you sailed the seven seas wearing a cloak of green
Strong of mind and body and a stubborn streak no less
You faced the challenges of married life, motherhood, cook, and maid
Unlike a thorny rose, you were rounded and smooth
Gentle of spirit and kind of heart your generosity was boundless
Your laughter was musical
A smile that warmed one’s soul and eyes of sparkling emeralds
Your flower has lost its petals
Its stalk will bud no more
But our British Rose our White Rose of York will live on
Its flower preserved in our hearts carrying memories of the past
May your earthy fragrance live on forever

Hour Nine

Dancing on Wings

Plump Geese join the Jays band amid a colony of Gulls
The Finches charm the mob of Emus while the parliament of Owls share their wisdom
Nightingales watch the deceit of the Lapwings which cause the Hawks to boil
And the congress of Crows scare the Doves into flight while the Flamingoes stand pat.
Chickens brood over paddling Ducks and the chattering Starlings are upset over the unkindness of Ravens
The Swallows gulp at the Woodpeckers descent followed by the pandemonium of Parrots
Darkness falls and the Dance of the Wings has closed
The party is over,
Good night

Hour Eight

Green; A Colour Poem

Green leaves fall upon grassy lawns dotted in moss
Their rustling sounds fall silent as they land
Woodland creatures scurry to taste the sour sweet earthy goodness
Hoarding away the spindly bits and spongy remnants
Bedding for the long cold days ahead

Hour Seven

I was happier on my own
I can feel you there even when not in my sights
You are a part of me now
Blind, I stumble
Seek safety from my enemy
The shadows circle, waiting to pounce
Crush my spirit
I have become weak the fight has left my battered body
My soul waits for the end
To find myself, in solitude
To float on a breeze
Carry me to peace and serenity and start a new life
Rebuild what you destroyed
Buried it deep below
To reclaim
A resurrection

Hour Six

Reflections on a window

An image clear yet hazy with a background that shifts depending on how you look at it
In front or from the other side, it changes with the light
Vanishing with the glare of silver beams removing what was
Stark colours hint at landscapes far and wide, yet close
A looking glass into the world beholds a vision, temporary, evolving from minute to minute
A window into the spirit of life
Nature unfolding growing, yet stagnant, unsurprising
A virtual reality of the day to day
The hope for something more
Sad eyes staring through liquid ice looking for what it lost

Hour Five

The Big Event

To not be there not see it happen to miss it all was his biggest fear
Weeks and weeks, he had waited
It was a special day
He felt growed up filled with pride at the responsibility faced
Traffic dodged, blaring horns and angry shouts
He raced, jumping curbs swerving past old ladies trundling along with their parcels
Friends ignored no time for pubs and darts
Heart pumping
Legs burning
Lungs bursting

Through the doorway he ran
Down the hall
To the right
Careening across wet floors freshly washed

A blanket worn and ripped curled up in a ball
Six pairs of liquid brown eyes dozy and tired
Little pink tongues protruding from tiny mouths opened wide in a yawn
A prize worth waiting for a little boy and his dog

Hour Four

Did you have to die?

You left without a good-bye
No hug and kiss or teary eye
You passed as you wished
No machines to let you exist
But did you have to die?
I am empty and lost without you here
We were close, my best friend, mother dear
To leave me behind, left a lump in my throat
To go on April 1st was a cruel joke
I miss you terribly, I want you near
The wounds are raw the pain severe
But God carried you away high above
Your spirit soared upon the wings of a dove
He took you suddenly without a good-bye
No chance for a kiss or teary eye
Your soul lives in the clouds, way up high
But did you have to die?