The Poetry Marathon

Dried roses and baby’s breath sit atop of each other

In a vase of transparent glass

They seem so comfortable and well suited

Glass and dried flowers beautifully matched in a transitional phase

A reflection of the full budded roses

That filled the vase several weeks ago

Rich, vibrant and radiant

In their youth and freshness

With the promise and potential

Of a full blown bouquet

Weeks later the arrangement is alive

but now, red roses sits with red and purple black petals

Preserved by drying and oil

Still beautiful in their dying

But no vibrancy

Seeing this causes one to ponder life

The contrast of youthful years

And the not so youthful ones

There’s death in life

Young and vibrant today,

Gone tomorrow

Dear Mama,

I miss those days when we laughed and joked about everything and nothing.

Your quiet resolute tone when you encouraged me to be my best

Those sweet treats that you’d make to titillate the senses

Prayerfully saying the Name of Jesus

Arguing with someone who commented on your child

Telling me I was pretty though it was not so

Making me display confidence when I had none.

I wish you could see me now, I’m a mother with a daughter

Who is doing all those things with her, you did with me

Knowing nothing about motherhood

My mind journeys back to my experience with you

Remembering how you loved me then and how I should love her now

Mama, I’m grateful you had me and that you loved me the way you did

So I could pass it on to someone so precious.

Mama I loved you then and I love you still.

They buried a seed and thought it would die

Not realizing it was a Sunflower and

It would push through the soil and shine

I fell from a brown satchel, carried by farmer Ted,

Trampled into the ground and in that space

I stayed, grew and survived

Tough as nails,

I burst through gravel and dirt to meet my namesake, the Sun

The boldness of yellow I grin and thrive

Not even cheddar cheese could show up as yellow as I

Hissing engines

Day and night

Headlights on high beam

Wonderland never sleeps

Restlessness the residents’ friend

As sleep seems far

In the winter land of London Canada

Snow vehicles plow

Making way for drivers

Searching for a path

Wonderland never sleeps

In the sunny summer

When horns of trailers blare and brakes screech

And the loud mufflers of bikes herald their arrival

In the flurry of traffic’s steady flow

Sleepy people wait for

Stillness

One that never comes

As Wonderland stays awake

Challenging ourselves should cause us to be better at whatever it is that we do.  For me this is one such journey.  It was not a bucket list item, but it is an opportunity to grow.  Looking forward to the experience.

Daun