The Poetry Marathon

#8 Bugs

Ladybugs and grasshoppers

crickets and spiders

garden friends

Roses and tulips

daisies and violets

garden blossoms

Communication #7

Handwriting

computers

penmanship

cursive

printing

typewriters

Dragon

notes

letters

paragraphs

novels

books

e-readers

kindles

 

Returning love

And the sky seemed to clear for you and I.

 

Days before with dark clouds above,

I searched for the one I love.

Though crystal mountains and glass halls,

could never reveal her at all.

 

The people that I spoke with were transparent as well

Each attempting to hide their empty shell.

And though the truth was glaringly obvious.

They all seemed oblivious.

 

And the rain fell,

fresh and cooling

And the rain fell,

soft and soothing.

 

Inside they flew,

those empty few.

Filling emptiness with nothing,

escaping but still suffering.

 

As soon as the last had hidden,

the sky cleared unbidden.

And in the wake of this new day,

my love returned without delay.

Letter To My Father

I smile as I think of you Dearest Father.  Without your love and constant guiedance I would be lost. I thank  you for your tenderness and passion for life and giving me a good start. For also, not giving up on me as I stumbled through my journey. I’m going to see you soon and looking forward to fishing together with you. Time is passing quickly and we will make some more good memories.  Tomorrow is never promised.  I keep this thought as part of my daily existence.  Thank you for teaching me kindness and how to be gentle with others. Thank you for your  constant love. As Father’s Day draws near and always I thank God for making you my Dad!   With All My Love!

Country boy and City Girl

Country boy is nice, city girl is unsure

unsure of herself, but country boy is her cure.

His friendship keeps  her glued; though he’s in despair

but city girl is there, for she always will care.

 

Country boy is there, when city girl has cried

scared of life she is, not sure she should try,

Country boy assures that she’s not alone

He offers comfort, and then he sends a song.

 

Country boy city girl how they understand

somehow they reach out and help each other stand,

Sharing in a blog; talking when there’s need

How much they have cared; their solace when they bleed.

 

 

Yo Yo

(Note to reader…..this is a concrete poem. I was unable to render it as written, here on my page, but have provided the text to complete my 24 hour chapbook. Thanks!)

 

A doer of redundance

is rolls, and curls,

string, and orb.

Letter To My Mother

I will be coming to see you soon Mom.  I hope you will be well.  So many uncertainties hang over our heads,  no-one can really tell. Lots of memories of old and present and new,   fly through my head about you! There is a time for all things they say.  I’m not looking forward to our future in later days.    Then for now I will concentrate, on loving you as you have me all my days. Dementia is cruel, but part of life and through and through,  you will always be you. So many feelings wrestle in my head to get out and God is in control up above. Just wanted to tell you how I feel about you with all my love.  Although I am writing this letter to you Dear Mother, as I rant and vent; Alas in the end it will not be sent.  I love you very much. See you soon!

Hour Twenty Four

Sleep- that sweet abyss

Something that I fondly miss

But there is much to do and much to see

Besides, my mind is a traitor to me

So many thoughts dance through my head

As I lie awake upon my bed

Reliving the events of every day

Regrets and troubles won’t go away

Things I’ve said, things not done

Chances missed, races not run

In my brain a war is waged

Deep within me, a beast uncaged

So sweet sleep escapes me still

I think that it forever will

Until that day my name is called

When I may rest, once and for all

The End

Desperation is made of quick breath,

and wilted wishes.

There is no thing sadder than

expiration from emptiness,

except dying while alive.

 

Hour Twenty Three

I am broken and imperfect

I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough

I hear ravens speak

I see dragons dance

I want to fly away

I am broken and imperfect

 

I pretend I am happy

I feel the weight of the world

I touch the edge of greatness

I worry that this is all there is

I cry for who I was meant to be

I am broken and imperfect

 

I understand that this too shall pass

I say, “Things will get better.”

I dream that one day they will

I try to hold on to that dream

I hope no one ever sees

I am broken and imperfect