The Poetry Marathon

The relaxing sound of the cat’s purr, feeling the vibrations on my skin,

The weight of the dog laying against my leg.

The warm cozy weight blanket soothing the day away.

The soft sleep music emitting via the radio.

My eyes close.  The day fades.

Seeking the whispers of the wind,  I stretch beneath the trees.

The day is still, the leaves don’t move,

The tree branches lift high up to the sky.

The birds tweet their melodies, songs glorious to the ear.

A car moves its way on distant street,

A dog barks as it goes by.

The sun warms my skin, my eyes drift close,

A relaxing summer day.

No secrets whispered through the air,

Though it was fun to try.

P, you taught me to be careful of saying “I love you”,

I’ve changed a lot since we last met, my friends say that is true.

You’d like them and their kindness, the dinners that we share.

It’s nice to know that always there is someone that will care.

I’ve moved away from London, to Middle-earth to find my names.

Sherlock will always be special, but I am not the same.

I grow flowers in my garden; cucumbers on the vine.

I still grow wistful, for once upon a time.

My hair shows streaks of gray.

My vision does slowly fade.

I wear multi-focus lenses now every day.

I imagine you’ve aged quite gracefully,

you seemed to have that knack.

I hope this letter finds you well.

If time permits, please write back.

The keys clattered loudly as her fingers flew,

The noise a soothing release of what felt she knew.

Their visions were different for the group,

She knew that when they met.

She kept on going just in case,

Things changed inside her head.

Stuck deep in the mire of longing,

Wanting to be seen and known, but scared.

Wanting it to be different, wanting people that would care.

The anxiety kept rising, week after week,

Different, not together, not able to express her doubts,

The group wasn’t what she hoped,  she had to find her way out.

Running wasn’t the answer, she did it every time.

She’d have to change her tactic, to try to more than just survive.

The meeting scheduled to talk, one on one with the group lead,

The very next day rescheduled, it was hard enough to believe.

Different, not together, though perhaps that was okay,

The meeting no longer needed, she was stronger yet that day.

From small seed,  they were planted,

these sunflowers in a row.

My first year at trying them,

to see if they would grow.

Mighty sprouts unfurled through the soil,

Seeking the sun so bright.

Watching them grow taller each day,

it’s such an amazing delight.

They are tower over me now,

Well over five feet five in the air.

The blooms begin to open,

Bringing smiles to those walking by.

Watching for the seeds to form,

To feed the birds the flutter near.

To save a few seeds for myself,

For planting future cheer.

She did not have to do it.

She chose to anyway.

I was not family.

She didn’t have to stay.

She walked  beside me, through my most devastating days.

My mother’s battle with cancer was ending,

her days on earth were few.

There was so much work to do,

I was overwhelmed by pain and grief.

She walked besides me, providing sweet relief.

She helped me plan the funeral,

She helped me resolving the estate.

She gave me a place to sleep,

When the night watch was too great.

She walked beside me, a gift of love so sweet.

She knew my mother through their church,

Through my mother she knew me.

She walked beside me, an angel if I ever did see.

Returning half marathoner looking forward to a great day.

Words spoken never erased,

Leaving a sweet or poisonous taste.

Words typed in haste, need to have pause.

Writing in anger, ’tis not a good cause.

Reading words which make you wish,

You could wash your brain in a dish.

Watch warily where your eye go,

Whether words will haunt you,

It’s hard to know.

Look around at who is with you,

Worry less about those who are not there.

Your tribe may be different than you thought,

But they are the ones who care.

Stop being a porcupine, using your quills to keep people away,

Changing is important, if you want better days.

The moonbeams danced with the fog,

Giving the boat dock a haunted look.

Nervous laughter broke the hush of the night.

The girl looked at her date and whispered,

“I have to pee.”

He snickered.  “TP’s on the shelf in the shed.

Pee behind the fir over yonder.”

He gestured to the right of the shed,

where old concrete blocks stacked up against the fir.

She dropped the canteen of coffee at his feet,

Muttering to herself, “Damn girl, never again.”