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Alta Boudreau Nov 2014
Two bright shining orbs
pulling me
hand over hand
from the darkness
that swallows me whole.
"All of me."
A whisper from oceans away
as the waves crash over me;
I'm drowning
in a sea of voices
from within.
But his eyes --
his bright shining beams of light
are the light house
guiding me to shore.
They stare at me
boring holes straight to my soul
through the thick fog
of fear and doubt.
A gaze locked on mine,
those shimmering suns,
until their warmth lulls me to sleep -
wrapped in blankets of safety.
© MAB 092214
Alta Boudreau May 2014
When I look at you, I see
the woman I want to be
in twenty years.
You worry
about the wrinkles
that form constellations
across the freckles on your skin.
A natural reaction
to what society brands
as aging.

When I look at you,
I see that those lines tell stories.
They speak to all the times
you laughed so hard
you cried.
Times you smiled so big,
so bright,
so proud,
your cheeks began to throb
to the beat
of my graduation march.

when I look at you,
I see no age.
I see a superhero
flying her faithful SUV
from one side of town
to the next.
Whisking kids from practice,
and concerts,
and recitals.
All paid for with the money
from the job
that gets you up before the sun.
Money that means nothing to you
compared to the happiness
of your children.

When I look at you,
I see honey golden eyes
just like mine.
Eyes I remembered
and weary
after a long day
of making ends meet -
being a mother
and a father.
A woman too selfless to rest
until dinner was on the table.

When I look at you
I see an airy frame,
but you’re strong --
so strong.
The greatest life lessons
I’ve learned from you
came in your darkest times
when you refused
to let the world break you down.
Life gave you lemons
and you’d be ******
if you were going to leave
the dinner table
before you finished drinking
all that lemonade.

When I look at you,
I feel so much pride.
You’ve accomplished so much.
You’re Wonder Woman.
I feel the comfort,
like your soft embrace,
in knowing
where I come from…
and where I’m going.

When I look at you,
I pray
someday I can be half
the mother you are
so my children can be
as lucky as me.

When I look at you,
I see your mother too.
The generations of mothers
before you
whose love
and strength
and wisdom
were weaved together
to form
the beautiful woman you are today.
©MAB 050514
Mother’s Day, 2014
Alta Boudreau Apr 2014
I miss your hands, your touch, your kiss.
The way your sweet smile leans to one side.
When I'm with you, I live in pure bliss.
Our love constant, like ceaseless tides.

Long and winding roads keep us far.
Days stretch for years, time seems endless.
Eyes wide at night, fixed on our stars;
Whispering, sad "I can do this... I guess."

Life without you is cold and so bleak.
But with you the sun forever will shine.
I feel my heart growing more and more weak.
But strong, my love, for you'll always be mine.

Time is but nothing, doing no harm.
I'd wait for eternity to return to your arms.
--for the love of my life, MP

©MAB April, 2014
Alta Boudreau Apr 2014
Heartbreak and tears I wear on my sleeve.
The evidence there of hurt from before.
Man after man lines up to leave;
I crumble, defeated, on the bedroom floor.

Dismal and dark, days filled with rain.
Desolate, lost, with nothing to show.
My eyes could tell stories of nothing but pain.
Each man from my bed, dressing to go.

I'd given up, turned my head! Farewell to love!
"There's no one for me" - I knew that for sure.
Fallen on my knees, hands clasped, asking above:
"Dear God, tell me love's not lost to lore.

If in life, one thing is to be true:
my heart was changed when I met you.
--for the love of my life, MP
© MAB April 2014
Alta Boudreau Mar 2014
You take me.
The shattered pieces on the floor,
Ground down fine
like powder.
You take me,
honey eyes that shine;
Closed tight
as soft lips part.
You take me,
early morning heavy lids.
Untamed mane of bed hair.
You take me
late-night groggy, sleepy,
excited, wild.
You take me
standing in the mirror
judging the girl looking back
until salty rivers flow.
You take me as I am:
flaws, perfections,
curves, edges.
You take me
and hold me
through everything.
You love me,
and I take you.
For MMP --- Thank you, I love you.

©MAB March, 2014
Alta Boudreau Feb 2014
are the double-edged sword
with which
I will end it all.
Two devils sit
on each shoulder
seducing me
with sweet nothings.
You with your
sweet summers
and two crystal pools
of eyes
where I'd wade in the waters
of promise and tomorrow.
He with his
true love
constant as the new day,
crooked smile
and that twinkle.
He's luring me in
with his gravity.
There is never
a right answer
when you're juggling hearts.
I wish I could dance
for you
so I could make you happy again.
Like I used to.
Like he makes me.
I can't.
Choices will **** me.
© MAB February, 2014
Alta Boudreau Dec 2013
I haven't yet
figured out
how to put into words
what it feels like
to be trapped in my own head.
I fear that's a fate worse than death.
My whole life
every single emotional pang--
has flowed from me;
through my pen,
on to paper.
Just like that:
A balloon of troubles
released into air.
Well I've been silent
too long now.
My emotional drain,
without a single bottle
of Drain-O left on any
of the Superstore shelves.
I'm in the unforgiving chokehold
of Depression.
With a capital D.
"Write your feelings down,"
my counselor says to me.
"writing can be therapeutic."
I know, Doc.
Which is why I'm here
on this double stuffed couch,
instead of in the safety
of my apartment
with my ink filled sword
and leather bound shield.
No thesaurus can aid me.
Merriam Webster is at a loss for words.
What is a poet without poetry?
I'm as useless
as the g
in lasagna.
Scars line my wrist;
Feeble attempts
of liberating the feelings
by placing them saddleback
on droplets of blood.
Keeping an open mind
is hardest when
your mind is the vault
sealed away
in your Fort Knox skull.
The pill popping lethargy.
This rainy day sadness.
Somewhere inside me
a little poet waits out the storm.
© MAB December, 2013
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