Your tiny forehead
Tilted to one side
Quizzically
Looking my way
I think I like you?
Tiny strategic moves
On my part
Required
To bring us closer
Do you want to play?
Magic of sunglasses
Tiny red flowers
Silly iridescent mirrors
Yours vs. mine
I see your eyes quietly smiling…
Your tiny forehead
Leaning toward mine
Briefly touching
Before leaning back
Oh yes, I think I like you!
So much
Talk
Of rights
Not yours
In companion
With mine
No, mine or yours
Exclaimed
Over and over
IN ALL CAPS
Making certain
Everyone knows
And no one
Disagrees
How lonely
It must be
Concerned only
With oneself
Not interested
In truly loving
Another
Or in understanding
That our hearts
Are Capable
Of beating
The same rhythm
At any given
Moment in time
Another poem from a recent writing circle with Ali Grimshaw. https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. You never know what’s going to show up on the page. And the critical voice is not invited. Love this process! ❤️
Looks as if
You strayed
Too far from
Your nest
Frantic chirps
Both yours
And your mothers
Served as a clue
Hard to spot
In the leaves
Of the shrub
Outside my window
But there you were
And mom not
Too far away
She brought you
A worm, twice
Full Stomach
Left you quiet
Slowly blinking
Sleepy eyes-
When I checked later
You were gone
Yesterday, I heard chirping outside my window. A female cardinal flew in and out of our front bed. But the chirping remained even when mom was gone. After some quiet watching, I noticed a baby in one of the bushes.
I’m not sure if birds get sweaty, but this baby looked ruffled. The small tuft on top of the head was like a toddler waking up from a nap. The temperature was above one hundred at the time.
Later in the afternoon, the baby bird was gone.
Early in the evening, we had a surprise thunderstorm. A welcomed relief from the heat. But there were strong winds and hail. I wondered about the little family of cardinals, especially the baby.
Walking into the kitchen this morning, I noticed a male cardinal sitting on a feeder. Hmmm…a quick investigation revealed that sweet baby. Now sitting on a low tree branch.
Looks like I might just be a bird watcher for the day.
Stop teasing
Come closer
I see you
Spending
All day
Hanging out
On the perimeter
Yes, I know
It offers the most
Sought after views
Of the blue skies
The location
Where you look
Your brightest-
But you cast
A broad shadow
Perfect for days
Like today
Couldn’t you
Float on over
And provide
A spot of shade
Not even asking
For a drop of rain
Maybe a breeze
Thirty minutes tops
That’s all I’m asking…
After multiple days of one-hundred-degree temperatures, trying to lighten the mood. I am holding out hope for a few cooler days this coming weekend. There is even a slight chance of rain. Fingers crossed!
Raindrops shimmered
Across the breeze
Like tiny slivers
Of silver tinsel
Where have you been?
Smiled the trees
Soaking in each
Bead of relief
Flowers closed
Their eyes
Able to breathe
Each blade
Of grass
Released an
Audible sigh-
Stepping out
From the shelter
I could feel the
Gentle drip-drops
Where have you been?
Smiled the rain
As it cooled
The heat of the day
From my skin
Trickled down
Into the crevices
Of my soul
Washing away
The grey dust
Watering seeds
Long forgotten
After weeks of above one-hundred-degree temperatures, we had a two-day reprieve. A little cooler with cloud cover and a rain shower. Just the realization that it was raining brought a sigh of relief. And then feeling it along with the breeze…well, that was a whole other story.
The heat has returned today in full force. The breeze transformed into a hair dryer. Looks like it will remain for the coming week. Grateful for the rain, brief that it was. And the reminders it carried.
The ground
Is parched
Grass once green
And inviting
Grows brown
Crunching
Beneath my feet
Trees struggle
To survive
Their leaves
Hanging on
For it’s too soon
For them to fall
One single spark
And the results
Would be
Devastating
Praying for rain
The Earth
Is parched
Tears shed in
Sadness and grief
But also in
Reconciliation
All dried up
People struggle
To survive
Their children
Hanging on
For it’s too soon
For them to fall
One single spark
And the results
Would be
Devastating
Praying for rain
How can this be?
Seems only yesterday
The ground was wet
With the tears of an entire world-
Are there no more left to cry?
I do not believe so, but what is the answer-
My soul
Is thirsty
Longing for
A cool breeze
A steady rain
Not a storm
Filled with
Lightening
And thunder
No loud voices
Sharing dissent
For all to hear
Instead, the quiet
Whisper of love
Sent in raindrops
Coaxing our tears
To once again join in
Watering the ground
Sharing two poems today that I wrote in a recent poetry circle with Ali Grimshaw. If this is something you’ve considered participating in, check out her website. I continue to be amazed at the process and thankful for the connections. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/
The same door
Same hallway
Same faces, mostly
Day in, day out
Oh, it’s a fine door
Bright hallway
Smiling faces, mostly
What would happen if I changed my entrance?
No, not a different door
Just held this door
For someone else
Walked that hallway
With intention
Bravely met all
Those faces
Not just with a smile
But with me
Whatever me happens
To show up that day-
Honest, unafraid
My heart open
Ready to receive
Ready to be received
Thought I was walking
Down a new path
Confident change
Was preparing
To peak out from
Around the corner
At any minute
Any corner…
Any day now…
But it remained
Hidden-not ready
To show its face
Maybe I had been
Walking around
In a circle
Seems I am back
Where I started
Or perhaps
That magnetic
Starting line
Loosened its grip
Just a bit
Before gently
Pulling me back
Tugging at my heart
Allowing time to grasp
A new perspective-
After all, life’s
Biggest changes
Are often felt, not seen
Seven-inch
Vinyl disc
Placed on
A circle
Within
A magic box
Turn the knob
Watch it spin
Forty-five
Rotations
Per minute
Place the needle
Listen as it
Moves across
The ridges
Releasing
Its power
Releasing
The music
I saw the movie Elvis yesterday with my friend, Marina. I grew up listening to Elvis. Watched his concerts on television. Remember the breaking news on the day he died.
I also remember dancing around a record player with my cousins at grandma’s house. Hound Dog and Don’t Be Cruel were our choice of 45s. We all loved Elvis.
Elvis had a style all his own, and it was controversial. People either loved him or hated him. But his roots were honest and truthful. And his contributions to our nation’s musical heritage are of great value. I am thankful his 45s were part of my childhood.
Delicate petals
Painted purple
And white
Pale yellow
Center
Completing
The bloom
Caught my eye
In a moment
Of exhaustion
A welcomed pause
To catch my breath
What is your name?
Need to keep moving
A quick photograph
To research later…
Images of you
Graced the walls
Of a coffee shop
Artfully framed
Thoughtfully
Displayed
Carefully labeled
With the answer
I was seeking
Kneeling down
I read the card
Unexpected
Sadness
At the realization
Your name is
Forever tied
To a senseless
Act of violence-
Columbine-
Delicate petals
Painted purple
And white
Pale yellow
Center
Completing
The bloom-
Mountain breeze drifts by
Meadows and pines gently sway
Whispering my name
I couldn’t resist sharing our trip to Colorado one more time. Grateful for time with family in this beautiful place. ❤️
I lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2
Piano Girl 