The Poetry Marathon

“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”

I looked to the pines

for answers I have yet to know.

I waded in rivers

too deep for my soul.

I hid secrets in oaks

searching for keys.

I wandered aimlessly

trying to please.

I never knew I was found

I never knew you were there.

Waiting for me to realize

I was always in your care.

C. Churchill

Slatternly

look at those hedges

untidy and blathering

imagine the stories they hold

deep in the worn mulch of their roots

verbose I am sure

as cluttered as the home they rest

look at those eaves filled

with last years leaves

unconscionable the weight

they bear to save rain from her hair

this woman not yet thirty

yet unsound and unworthy

look at her dress

a rainbow of a mess

how must she survive? does she not know

this world of judgmental eyes?

waiting to pounce on her

waiting to see

if she has an answer

for the who? what? or we?

I suppose she doesn’t care

Perhaps she is not all there.

or perhaps her happiness

is in a place without stares

a place we will never know

while using judgemental glares.

C. Churchill

for we cant see past

white picket fences or

Dear Girl,

You will face so much more than the skinned knee of today,

Stubbing your toe will still hurt, but not as much as other things.

You will always dance, unafraid.

When the rains come

And yes they will.

Do not fear the flood, for you have learned to swim.

You will shed tears that you fear will never end

But they will.

And the nightmares come in different shades of darkness, but you have learned to wake.

Dear Girl,

You are beautiful, you are wise and I am so very proud of what you have become.

Love,

Me and also you.

I found myself 
quenching my thirst
with a canteen filled with concrete.
Damn!
I might as well step off the dock
if I can no longer enjoy
my coffee with moonbeams.

C. Churchill

Watership Down

we beg for our lives
against the giants
that cannot speak

yet, they yell
while we scream
we run, we run

snares and poison
breaking families
we hide, we hide.

through the tunnels 
through the earth
when home is no longer safe.

take us to the 
Watership Down
where we can find refuge 

among others that 
have been displaced.

C. Churchill

I will go under,

the maple, hiding from the rain,

feet deep in mud.

I will go above,

ever changing leaves and rainbows,

finding clouds to drop from.

No matter the weather, I will.

C. Churchill

My hands graze the Queen Annes Lace

white tops and fragrant blooms

keep me company

along tracks once traveled.

Sweet summer breezes bring the scent

of youth gone by

and memories of your eyes

how they searched my lips

for that first kiss.

Behind corn stalks

we hid from farmers and from brothers

just to feel alive in our small lives.

Along tracks once traveled

my hands hands graze

searching for memories

of a once small life.

C. Churchill

What glorious things you must have

hidden away in your chambers

that you keep oh so coveted

Away from prying eyes

and lingering hands.

Is it lonely in there?

The spaces between beats?

When breath is shallow and uninterrupted.

You keep it that way

locked tight.

If I could only take a peek

just to make sure the cobwebs haven’t

stifled the echo.

Just to make sure the doors haven’t rusted completely shut.

I have yet to find the key, the back entrance or any signs of life.

If I could only take a peek, a shy gander.

Just to make sure

I am not trespassing.

C. Churchill

You were there

rocking that porch

chair.

The loose board squeak

A rhythm so pleasing

to my ears.

We had grown old, enjoying the ease of life.

Lemonade and finer things

Amidst the sparrow song and the raven call

That loose board squeak

quickly became

The most beautiful sound

I had ever heard.

C. Churchill