Homeward Bound – Hour Twenty-Four

As I cross the bridge over the river, I know I’m almost home
The changing leaves, their colors bright as if to welcome me back
The two lane roads, the Amish buggies, the fields that span for miles
The air so crisp and clean, I’m blessed to be homeward again
I miss these moments far from life, far from the maddened crowds
Away from the bustle and the perils known as city life
Back home, things move a slower pace, a better pace for me
Where thoughts flow freely without fail, nothing to halt their voice
I miss the days of butter churning and apples bobbed for fun
I miss the times when life was free and I was very young
It was indeed a simpler time, but one that makes me glad
When I return and thus, reflect on the good times I had

Listening – Hour Twenty-Three

Listening

Just be still and listen and then tell me what you hear
Is the quiet all but deafening? Does it make you shed a tear?
Does the silence bring you anger, for you need chaos throughout
Or does it bring you worry, filling up your head with doubt
When I am still and listen, I can hear the keyboard click
I can see the blinds there dancing and hear the clock’s soft tick
The little sounds oft silent in our daily happenings
I guess, a good reminder, to stop and greet the little things
Our lives are often busy, much too busy to embrace
The simple things like lights on printers or a stranger’s smiling face
The things we all admire when we stop to take the time
Like the crackling of the fire or the grooves around a dime
When we stop and use our senses, counting each now – one by one
We are forced to pause a moment and embrace what we’ve begun
By listening, we’re hearing; by seeing, we delight
In the glory that’s before us that we feel with all our might
We can touch the leaves below us, crackling upon the ground
We can smell the rain around us, finding peace within its sound
We can taste the joy of coffee to awaken us at dawn
With all our senses at the ready, we tackle the world head on
But only if we listen and be still, so we can hear
All the sounds that are around us and what everyone brings near
Could be joy filled or just painful, elation or remorse
But regardless, there’s a lesson if we choose to stay the course

The Skylights – Hour Twenty-Two

You walked into the living room and flat lined by the chair
We had to let the medics know that you were in despair
They found a pulse, you tracked your eyes and squeaked a last Goodbye
Before you faded out again through the lights in the sky
I’ve always felt your spirit left through windows in our roof
And when our ceiling fan turned on all by itself, my proof
It was the saddest day I’ve known, the day you left us, Dad
But, I am grateful for the time and memories we had
Not long after you left this world, the hurricane brought close
The death of so much more in life, those skylights suffered most
And so did the fishing pier home, where we’d spent many days
The gallant pier, our second home, in toothpicks on display
Losing the pier felt so much like I had somehow lost you twice
Gone was our little piece of joy, our coastal paradise
But unlike life, it was rebuilt and the memories remain
Death is so final and so raw, I wish I could explain
You left this world so suddenly, so tragically, in fact
In all went down in front of me with that last heart attack
I wish that there could be some way for the skylights to return
Your soul back to us here on earth, for this much I so yearn

Solitude – Hour Twenty One

All alone in the quiet, while others are sleeping
I sit and I softly reflect
My life is so blessed, my heart filled with such pride
For these blessings I’ve so much respect
I am living a life I never thought could be
With a family I’ve made on my own
I’m grateful for moments like these in the still
To feel pride as I sit all alone
My husband is awesome, he’s hardworking and wise
Our daughter is my dream come true
I know I can do nothing wrong in their eyes
They love me for all that I do
Even our silly cat respects me in her way
I have neighbors that I call my friends
I’ve helped many people, I’ve found my own gifts
And I’ve tried to move mountains on ends
The latter unsuccessful and yet, I have tried
Still, I find incredible joy
In knowing that every day that I am given
I try my hardest to employ
The most of the blessings that life has bestowed
For each is richly filled with wonder
I’d trade it for nothing, for even if it’s not perfect
It is where I feel I’m meant to be

The Pier – Hour Twenty

The Pier

I spent many a year catching fish by the buckets
Upon the Gulf of Mexico’s shoreline
From sand trout to sharks and gafftop to eel
My childhood grew wildly there
It kept me from trouble, away from that crowd
Special bonding time for Dad and me
That was, til the day that his health put him under
And stole from him his own liberty

After Dad had passed, I had lost the pier too
As a hurricane swept through its core
The grandiose place of my youth left in toothpicks
A large gaping hole at the shore
The owners vowed then to rebuild yet again
And I too vowed then to go back
To rekindle those glorious days from my youth
And to honor my Dad in return

The pier was rebuilt and life got in the way
I grew up, I married and moved
But deep in my heart, I held tight to the need
To go back to this place of my youth
So one day with my then husband in tow
I headed back to the pier at the shore
Surreal in a way that I walked off with Dad
And returned with a spouse at the door

I took in the sights of the sunset and waves
I spotted the birds and the fish
I smiled o’er the fact that I had in a way
Lived out my Dad’s own dying wish
To never forget all those days at the coast
Those days at the Gulf, long departed
For if one thing was true, it was love never fades
It remains within the brokenhearted

Lost in Literature – Hour Nineteen

“Books were safer than other people anyway.”  – Neil Gaiman

In merely a week, I have traveled the globe
Via airplane, by boat and on trains
I’ve swum with the dolphins and ridden a camel
I’ve crossed o’er England’s fertile plains
I’ve gone back in time to when dinosaurs roamed
I’ve met not one Indian, but four
I’ve learned how to sew, to knit and to cook
And how to grow plants at the shore
I’ve seen people born and I’ve watched others die
I’ve witnessed great love and heartbreak
I’ve cheered for the triumphs and cried through such pain
That I can honestly say my heart sank
A good book can do that, as it fills up the mind
With food for the soul deep within
For once you are lost, you are just as soon found
In the pages from an author’s pen
One is never so lonely, so small or so blind
Than before a good book hits his hand
For when lost in its pages, engaging his mind
Life is thereby evermore grand
For gone are the trials, the troubles abound
Cast aside for the moments or three
That within a good book his inner psyche be sound
Bathed in peace and such great sanctity

A World Before Me – Hour Eighteen

I see a world before me, filled with all the brightest hues
A far cry from the visions that are laid out on the news
A rock amid so many more, so large and yet so small
And yet, a place where goodness reins supremely over all
The media, in all its worth, oft only tells the plight
The goodness lost amid the fold of what is brought to light
Stories created and not told, made up to skew the mind
Of those who cannot see the truth or to its power blind
Oh yes, the world is ugly, our history is too
But the future can be lovely, if we choose a brighter hue
The world, so filled with darkness, cannot merely exist
Unless we feed to its grayness and allow it to persist

Show Me the Way – Hour Seventeen

When I’m feeling lost and broken and nothing is going right
I turn my eyes upon you and find comfort in your light
You’ve always been there for me when I’ve needed you more
You are my greatest asset when the wolf is at my door
I try to be there for you, but you’re stronger than I’ll be
I look to you for guidance, more than you’ll ever need me
I’m grateful that I know you, I am humbled that you care
You will always be my hero, even when you are not there
Sometimes, I may not get it and simply don’t understand
Why you will bend over backwards to lend me a helping hand
Yet, I still try not to question for I know we all need aid
The many ways you’ve shown me are debts that can’t be repaid
The sun is always brighter, the sky’s a deeper shade of blue
When life receives a blessing, such as I have found in you
For when it all seems hopeless and the future’s dark and gray
I know you are there to lead me, for you will show me the way

Across the Sea – Hour Sixteen

I took a trip across the sea to find a treasure, new to me
A gift of hope from years long gone, whose beauty smiles just like a song
I walked awhile, I rode some more, then found my way upon the door
Of those that took me in and stood for everything I know is good

A foreign lad, a foreign land, with hopes and dreams, parked where I stand
Would they come true for me, at last? Or would a bitter stone be cast?
Hard work is what it takes, they say, then things would surely go my way
So working hard is what I tried, each day and night, faith as my guide

A shining city on a hill, a beacon that left me fulfilled
As time went forth I gained more ground than in any place I had found
The people here were kind and wise; I was no different in their eyes
Just someone looking for their way, like other souls at end of day

Now years have passed, I am here still. I guess, perhaps, I always will
I’ve found my hope, my worth, my path, far from a wartime’s aftermath
This country has become my home; a place where I feel same to roam
Whose beauty does smile like a song and where I feel I most belong

The World Around Me – Hour Fifteen

The scent of lavender fills the air
Made heavy by summertime heat
The carpet feels gritty, like a warm sandy beach
Nestled roughly under my feet
The hallway feels longer at this hour of day
Each step growing tougher to make
My eyes are now weary, my head in the clouds
Trying hard just to stay awake

Beside me, a child far more alert than I
In this late hour of the day
Still blowing her bubbles and sending them high
At the age when life’s all about play
I still hear the music from across the way
A party now deep into night
The moon’s hidden well on this latter June day
As I realize there’s no rest in sight

I reach to grab water, when coffee should do
As the child decides that sleep is best
I bid her goodnight and then get back to work
For there is no time for great rest
Brahm’s Lullaby beckons and yet, I resist
For I must trudge ahead ’til the dawn
An all night affair, my brain shall persist
And so I shall now carry on

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