The Poetry Marathon

The days of summer are ticking by, every one of them the same.
In a pandemic of enormous proportions
Monday looks like Tuesday looks like Wednesday, and so on.
I would love to take PTO, to have a place to go to escape my pandemic reality.
To travel to places unknown with the love of my life (also yet unknown).
Hikes as the sun sets behind the mountains
while the fog cloaks the treetops when it is time to sleep.
Or maybe a trip to the city to shop on a rainy day,
the ladies and gentlemen bustling in and out of stores with out a care,
Their umbrellas bumping into each other like clumsy bulls in a china shop
While they do their best to jump over puddles,
Inevitably splashing themselves and the people around them.
But in a time where social distancing is king
And public health is of the utmost importance
I will have to be grateful for a glass of Merlot
as the sun sets through the treetops in my back yard.

O my dear how I miss thee.
I miss my companion to tell my inner most feelings to.
I miss my partner in crime to tackle life’s challenges with.
I miss the love that we felt and the affection we shared.
O my dear how I miss thee.
In the time since you left Father God has guided me.
He helps me rest in green pastures while winds tear through the skies.
He gives me revelation about events past
and better times to come in the future.
O my dear while I continue to miss thee
I pray that you are healthy and well.
That Father God is guiding you too.
That there will come a day when He will bring us back together again.

The generations lower their heads as they go to the fields.
All sense of hope for a better day slowly leaving their idle minds.
Blisters and sunburns, broken bones and shattered dreams.
Their children in the yard watch as their parents work jobs.
They are not the slaves of the American south
But while their families were freed, their dreams were never returned.
They are the result of generations lost.

A free man is able to succeed or fail using his own will.
A man not taught to dream does not know what he is working for.
The children of a man with no dreams do not see a better day in their future.
They live their lives from day to day often left to their own defenses.
Society tells them to go to school, but the children don’t know why.
Society tells them to get a job, but they are children who have yet to play.
So, they wander through life left to their own defenses.
They are the result of generations lost.

A child must be motivated to succeed.
To please their parents and loved ones.
To achieve the goals that their family and community set for them.
That is how children grow.
But to raise a child to achieve we must know how to achieve ourselves.
We all as adults of every race must encourage the children of our society to succeed.
To strive for a better day.
There is not a man, woman, or child alive on God’s green earth that does not have a better day ahead of them.
But if we cannot come together
Then we may all become the result of generations lost.

A steady blend of 50/50 Motivation and Positivity
A dash of Encouragement
An ounce of die-hard Desire
Faith the size of a mustard seed
Garnish with Sugar and a little bit of spice.

In the beginning of time God created Eve,
Companion and partner to Adam.
So on and so on through the generations.
God’s perfection, all the way to me.
Women, a balance of strength and beauty.
Perfect with her teenage pimples and womanly curves.
With the passing of years
Mind and body evolved.
There are dings along the way.
Broken hearts and broken bones,
All serving to only improve her.
While some women master the art of Cover Girl or Este Lauder,
She washes her face and allows the world to see her
Just as God made her.
Daughter, wife, friend, mother, boss, employee.
God’s perfect creation.