Hour 24.25
The poetry is done for now
I slip away to bed
Allowing just this treat for now
I rest my weary head
And though I do not publish this
On the 25th hour
50 poems I have writ
Within 24 tight hours
What Will Be-Hour Twenty-Four
One day, it’ll happen.
I can see it clearly, as plain as today.
I will wake up, half-asleep still.
Cold morning light, lavender-gray soft
filters in one window, scudded with clouds,
and a heavy weight will be ’round my waist.
All those years of waiting,
of silent tears and reaching out in the night
to an empty bedside will be just an echo.
An echo of what was, what never will be again.
And all the dreams of today will pale
in the face of that ready tomorrow.
With your voice low in my ear, gentle, sweet,
a time without limits, without an ocean between,
just us and the quiet dawn cresting.
So here’s to that ready tomorrow, my darlin’,
of that we will make it be.
Just you, me, and my little boy together,
at long last at rest, at home, with more to come
and much more life left to share, to give.
Come, my lover, rise with me on that tomorrow.
Let’s greet the sun together.
HOPE
Through the fog I can see the light,
Filtering in like a rainbow of lasers.
My heart starts to lift,
No longer a sinking feeling in my chest.
I close my eyes,
Inhale deeply,
I am at peace.
The worries of yesterday gone,
The promise of tomorrow taking its place.
Hour 24: Two Stargazers
We sit on opposite sides
Staring up at the celestial bodies
Waiting for shooting stars
We make silent wishes
And let our fingers drift
In warm eddies
They touch
Neither of us know anything about the patterns
Painting the sky above us
But we still watch
And marvel
Hour 16
Why do men want flawless women?
Are they flawless? No way! Then?
It is a mystery to be solved, now I have
to make therapy through writing poetry!
Hour 24- How To Say Goodbye?
As I headed to the finish line of this long and wondrous night
I get the call that you, Aunt Shirl, reached your own, finished your fight.
Throughout my life you were always there for me.
You accepted me, loved me, cared for me.
I do not know what to think, how to understand you are gone.
Gone from this world, at least, but never gone from my memories.
Tears are streaming down my face, even as I smile sadly.
I know you are at peace. I know you were tired.
I am sending my love to you in Heaven.
3 Before
Vintage continues to survive
Forgotten in the back of a drawer
Cherished perhaps saved for others
Who may never truly deserve
Smiles for those people passed
Salvaged in black and white
Glossy paper patterned edges
Turned over names and dates
Times were better then echoed
As if troubles began only now
Heads knowingly nod in unison
Those censored memories endure
Hour 24
hope is what we choose
when the world is consumed in chaos
when all our dreams are charred
and the only path is through change
hope is the only choice
Hour 24, Poem 30
On a warm afternoon
Sunlight filters through the leaves
Forming shadows on the ground
Covered with yellow leaves
And I am here
In the gentle embrace of warmth
Trying to catch a bit of
Sunlight enchanting me
But how would you catch something
You have already?
In your heart, in mine too
An eternal sunshine flows through.
Keeping warm at the onset of fall
Or be it in the middle of winter blues
A little bit of our own sunlight
That’s ‘Hope’ to you.
Are We Done Yet
Running away has been
such a strange purpose
as I am chased by pigs
feigning greatness.
Peace, such an elusive
state of being
in this state of chaos.
I am almost ready to fight,
but I hate fighting.
Until then… I just keep running.