Summer

Summer you give us

days that melt into each other

like the scooped ice cream

atop cones of plain or sugar

 

You bring heat that

relishes languid activities

among floating docks

and crisp libations

while lapping waves

work to produce polished stones

 

Rays of sun sway with trees creating dappled light

and black skies share space with crackling fires

fire flies and moonlit nights

lazy, hazy winds breathe fun filled days

into dream filled sleeps

with the comforting sound of the loon who cries

 

Games are played, puzzles solved and books are read

under the safety of rainbows that stretch

for miles searching for pots of gold

 

You tease us, then torment us

with your end of season mark-downs

you pile snow suits into warehouses

and sell books with lined pages

 

Why Summer, why?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bloom

Writers may be disreputable, incorrigibly early to decay or late to bloom but they dare to go it alone.    John Updike

 

002

It was pushing through the earth

towards a diamond sky

filling my heart with mirth

I cannot tell a lie

 

The chartreuse hint

bearing it’s place

was quiet at first

there was only a trace

 

I was hopeful

attentive

and I gave it room

sweet ivy,  you surprised me

you provided me bloom

 

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.  Max Ehrmann  

 

Today of course is Friday.  So try your hand at writing for five minutes not worrying if it is right.  Find Lisa Jo Baker’s blog here and give it a go.  Then visit your fellow writers and give them support.  We all need to feel the bloom.

Circles

circle

Circles

of life

symbols of unity

forever like infinity

some golden like the sun

protective, containing

representing one

beware of the circle

stitched perfectly

with the thread

of exclusion …

let those come undone

 

 

 

 

 

Belong

When you know and respect your Inner Nature, you know where you belong. You also know where you don’t belong.”     ― Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

Finding where you belong
is like looking for love
it can happen at first sight
or over time

Search no further
than your own heart for both
they beat together
simultaneously

…you belong

On Fridays you can write freely without worrying how it turns out.  Find the prompt and then write. Head on over to Lisa Jo Baker’s blog and give it a try.

The Table

The table is old
clad with age
she’s worn a patina
and a coat of dust
at times too long

Made of pine
her surface scratches
hide the gouges
of life lived around her

Like the little black dress
she has been adorned
or styled casual
she sits comfortable
in her own skin

Having hosted family meals, special occasions
and late night talks
witnessed laughter and tears
bore the heaviness of the years
she has supported elbows, books, unread papers
and signed permissions slips

After years of doing a job well done
the table is left exposed to elements unfamiliar to her
feeling vulnerable
cracking from the sun, soaked from the rain
she stands brave in the wind
waiting

One day the table is rescued
and with spit and polish
it is brought back to life
with rebirth she sports a new look
yet embraces the wisdom of her years
once again ready
to heed a family in need

The table has purpose

Exhale

GO

keep calm and exhale

Let it go. Begin writing on the exhale of your life. Stop holding it in. Breathe like the child exhausted by laughter and a world of sticky delight welcoming slumber. Let go of the trials of the day, the bills to pay or the ache carried over from yesterday. Write it down. Breathe words onto the pages of your own life. Bear witness to them. They belong to you. Don’t worry about the stats or comment box. Stop trying to catch your breath, while writing your own story. Let it go. Exhale.

STOP

Today is FMF over a Lisa Jo Baker’s blog. It only takes five minutes to write without worrying if it’s right. Give some encouragement to your neighbor and then have yourself a great weekend.

Lost

035

Peace

everyone seeks it

It is so easy to get disoriented

on this road called life

We are all seeking

validation, acceptance and love

There are choices to be made

Like a rose

we can let the thorny stems

of life bleed us dry or

inhale it’s sweet fragrance

If you are blessed to find your way

Let compassion be the compass

you share with others

so that your light

illuminates the path

to peace

and not being

lost

Today is Friday and that means writing for five minutes without worrying if it’s right. (I’m always amazed at how much people can write in five minutes)
Head on over to Lisa Jo Baker’s blog and join a group of people who give it their best.
When you are finished, visit your neighbor and give them some love