24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The mind, the body and Spirit
The are 3 in one
they are the cornerstone of man
why not just wave your hand
and summon to the greater I am
Self care is the imminence
of the elements of who we are
Clear your mind
say your mind
See your value and worth
Move your entire being
Read develop self confidence
Write declare that
God is the wind beneath your wings!
All rights reserved copyrighted(c)2020 Roxann A Harvey-Lawrence
So many things
to do
& see
maybe later.
Necessary new skills
to acquire
& refine
but not now.
Unexplored places
to go & people to meet
Tomorrow,
perhaps.
I THANK YOU EARTH MOTHER (PICTURE OF BOAT ON WATER)
Glorious earth, of heavens and streams
A place in my heart, my soul and my dreams.
You continually share your beauty, your wonder
In the caress of the rain drops through boisterous thunder.
Your majesty proudly displayed in each tree
With arms outreached over land, by the sea.
Blessed with each journey, I am lucky to make
As I breath in the goodness you allow me to take.
Like all mothers you share, your bounty, your all
Starry skies of each summer, brilliant colors of fall.
You beckon me with a whippoorwills cry
To witness the sunset as the day says goodbye.
The new day presents your new canvas creation
And I’ll give thanks, dear Mother, for my undying elation.
El Paso’s rolling brownouts
have nothing to do with a dearth
of energy, but rather its excess.
This town nestled in the triangle
between desert, mountains,
and lush Rio Grande is plagued
by roiling winds in early Spring
after months of drought.
Choking ocher colored clouds
sweep across the loosened desert sand,
grinding it smooth and lifting it high
in finely woven, smothering sheets.
They are driven through tiny
crevices, every minuscule crack
an opening for these fine grains
coating all within our former home
in an orange, faintly greasy sheen.
Each spring, while family
in Indiana enjoyed lush green
and the near endless
falling sweetness of rain,
we would instead receive
the persistent dust,
a constant grit in every crease and fold.
Tiny piles of desert soil
throughout our home
reminded me of a century before,
the dust bowls that chased
generations back to verdant homelands.
The billowing waves crested
mountain peaks and settled, stilled, between them,
suspended in the quieted air and momentarily fired
by evening’s setting light,
creating momentary beauty
from a distance
from what in its midst
would kill.
She as the fifth child in peasant’ family
was treated like an extra month not carefully,
eldest siblings split nicely into pairs;
she was upbringing alone… unfair!
She got tried to approach daddy but in vain
to drag him out of messy barn, he didn’t care.
“Could you play with me? “Wait a moment”
Waiting a …crumbling into infinite element by element.
The night was dark and quiet
When my soul forever changed
The stars hung like frosty diamonds
When my whole world rearranged
I walked all over town that night
Mourning all I’d lost
I didn’t care if I saw morning’s light
I’d have gladly paid that cost
For I could see my future
As clearly as the sky
Decades of soul changing pain
(It’d be easier to die)
Almost a year has passed since then
And it’s still a living Hell
But I’ve learned to love without you
As I’ve learned to hate myself.
~Mandy Kocsis©2020~
In the Pythagorean landscape
The dog dug up the lettuce
Scattering soil over the terracotta tiles
Nothing so mystical to be unattainable
And yet still so mighty to be venerable
Protected from the rain
My spider’s web caught each drop
and rerouted it.
By undoing an individual beauty
Thus securing a mathematical moniker
The dog claimed a private place for worship
Life is so full of leftovers
reheat the beans
Nothing too new, but they’ll do
sprinkle the cheese
Keeping you going, get you through
rip the romaine
Not much left- gotta leave a little
pop the Pace
Oh no old one’s already open
skip grace
Gotta grab my bite right now
dig the fork in
“Imprinted Heart”
Young like the wind as it lifts us,
A building like our little hour glass.
Not in the world we can ever be,
Hand in hand, eyes close — we are free.
We figure the mystery of old,
And how they ended up a false hope.
Can we remain as young as this?
An old answer can never give.
We imprinted hearts from the old log.
Gone with the wind, remains fog
We lost the story of an old prince frog.
A reminsce in a room, a coffee and a mug.
(C) M. E. Flores
#Prompt 5
#Halfmarathoner
My Dearest …,
We have this place…unseen by most;
We have this bond…since we were born.
We spent the years…apart;
We promised we’d meet…near this end.
As my middle years…come to me hard;
Your senior years…harder still;
Will you allow me in…or have you chose;
To leave me here…alone to deal?
Please tell me you remember…at least, a bit;
I remember it all…and wonder why.
If I am to tell the story…and no one recalls;
Then, why will it matter…to one who is left;
alone to share?
Please return to me…share what we will;
For a moment is enough…then never, at all.