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 6d
Christy
Once upon a time-
Begins in parallel life
The story of love
Not completely true
But not without its value
That halts because internal worth
Is measured by different meters.

And time was of the essence.
Yet time lingered in flesh
Vivid gift of memory  
Sweet sweat trickled down her back
Cradling his head in her lap.

When time again began,
Light shone through cracks
in the perfection.

One, occupied by burdensome things,  
Constrained.
Unready for change,
Overwhelming helter-skelter.

The other, craved a mention
Between chaotic interventions,
And, possibly a promise-
A hope for more than
“A day at a time.”

Passion turning languid,
Green-eyed-monsters birthed.
Words unspoken swallowed,
And spit out in garbled tongue.

Led to the perfect storm
of a time whence upon
Two lovers grew apart
But couldn’t part.

So they lived and loved
in parallel dimensions
Never forgetting.
Never regretting.
Mrs. Goddard
Looked like Mary Poppins
Always a smile on her face
Caring, Kindness Grace
I wanted to please her
By doing my best
Ace every test

“If At first  
You don’t succeed
Try Try again”

The reward
“To be a Study Buddy”
Help a friend do better
“A feather in your Cap”

We all wanted to be
The little engine that could
To always do good

“I can if I think I can”

Third grade was
A milestone
Our touch tone
It was the First time
Our voices were heard
Even the
Outlandish absurd

I wanted to
Come to school
To learn
“The Golden Rule”

Every morning
She smiled
Every inch
Every mile
She started
The class
With promise
We were beguiled
She had many sayings
Like Mary Poppins

“A spoon full of sugar
Helps the medicine go down
Is the most delightful way”

I still remember
“Silence is golden
So get rich quick”

We would settle in
Wiggling anxiously
In our chairs
Giggling without care
Soaking up
The happiness
In the  AIR
Glancing around
Anticipation giddy
Ready to get to
The nitty-gritty

It was a look
A glance
A waltz
A dance
An expression
Her finger
On her lips
She invited us…

“Are you ready?”
Every face, Smiled
“All right, Boys and Girls ”
“Put on your Thinking Caps”

Each eager child
Full grin smiles
One and all
Went through
The motions
Of putting on
Their Thinking Caps
Arms over the head
Adjusting it just right

She would ask
“Is it on
Good and tight”
We Readjusted our
Caps for good measure
Her face beaming
Smiling with pleasure

We saw our Cap
in our mind
By her
Design

That was the start
of  Our
Imagination
Time
Infatuation
Admiration
Appreciation
Nurtured
We grew
Sublime

We were all
Diamonds
In the rough
With years of
Refinement
We will shine
Sparkle glow
To perfection
Let our inside
Show

Don’t worry
About
Little chips
Imperfections
Polish and shine
Until
No detection

Five minutes
Seemed
Like Forever  

Seeing
the end In sight
Never

As we grew
We knew
Interminable
Time
Marched on

All we can do
Is wait
For what comes
Next

Inspired songs;
1) everything is beautiful 1970
By Ray Stevens

2) remember the days of the old school yard 1977
By Cat Stevens

3) teach your children well
By Crosby Stills Nash & Young 1970


BLT Webster’s word of the day challenge
May 27, 2025
Interminable
Things that have or seem to have no end, especially because they continue for a very long time.
That was the year a boy kissed me
I was madder than a hornet‘s nest. He put our friendship to the test. I had no interest in boys. I was a tomboy
I interested only in running faster, better, then the boys. Not because I wanted to be a Boy, but because I could
My 4 brothers called me a (tomboy) my father called me Charmin Carmen. That’s the year. I got my nickname.
My mom still put me in dresses, but I wore shorts underneath to maintain my propriety.
It wasn’t easy t climbing a chain-link fence with a baseball mitt in a dress, but I  did it gracefully!
The first girl baseball player in full stride , by third grade
A rural country girl in a city school.
 Jun 8
Whit Howland
Morse Code
or no code at all

life is noise

and no one tells you
what and what not to listen to

right now the sun's rays
are piercing

the gray fluff of a former
Nimbus cloud
A word painting with a straight forward message.
 Jun 8
Anais Vionet
We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.

As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.

As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.

Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse
Tell me what it is you want me to see
Sometimes my mind wanders, or wonders,
I'm not sure which.

Maybe it's both, maybe it's neither
Maybe I'm just overcome with desire.

You often have that effect on me!

Anyway!

Tell me once again, what it is
you want me to see.

I'll try to pay attention this time.

My God You're BEAUTIFUL!

Do you know that?
ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL!!!
Impatient and cranky, restless and raw.
Tired of waiting, and sick of the draw.
Waiting for help, waiting for change,
waiting for something in us to rearrange.
My mind too full to find any peace.
Thought after thought needs release.
I can not process all this mess
I can not hold it,  i just need less.
Needing help, a partner, a friend,
Someone on which i can depend.
Trying to trust that God has it all,
But finding that my faith is small.
I Let it go, but then i take it back
Unwilling to allow the line to slack
Stubborn and prideful, quiet and sad
Falling apart but pretending its not so bad.
Losing days in an endless wakeful sleep
Lost in the push and pull the hurt so deep.
How do i wake up and really release.
Make the heaviness begin to decrease.
 Jun 6
Neil Mcpake
Those calming voices that soothes my heart. Turning me away from the depths of whispering winds that plague my sins. As I lie in the mist of grief wollowing in my own sorrow. Fatherless without his love in the realms of pity. As I live in the unguided world of a ghosthood in a new fangled home. While I m steadfast as I stop running from my past I just hope us humans are built to last. Knowing these facade lines cross my path. Keeping me on the straight and narrow. So the only one should follow me is my shadow. Away from borrowed time in a sinuous presence over shadowed by loneliness. In a stream of visability showing wayward steps that burdens my soul.With hieroglyphs of life in a unimagineable perfection through space and time.We should keep away from fake personalities that tries to con us in a insulet world. To engrandize and modernize then to have our faiths try to control us. Even in front of holy eyes without unquestionable doubt this to me is a evil cell of terrorist louts. Knowing this will never be there last bout. As they look like smartly dressed hobbo's from a distant ghetto. Only after death will there spirts languish in limbo. Waiting for god to cast them all to hell for being under the devil's spell.
This is a poem about soul searching and the shifty characters that try sway our minds with faiths and lie.
 Jun 6
sandra wyllie
that fan the sky then
what am I? A black insect with
antennae, that can walk,
but cannot fly. Like an eagle

caged with a broken
wing I'm outraged when
my writing hands in a high
arm sling. They say a caged

bird still can sing. But who
will listen to my song when
there's no wind carrying my
notes? When my throat's sore

from breathing stale air? When
the sun is lost on the easy
chair. This patch I land on is so
small. Not room here for an evening

crawl. I'd be someone as a feather
duster, sweeping ceiling fans till
they luster. Gliding and dipping like
a gull at sunset! Just to get my wings wet.
 Jun 3
Agnes de Lods
His fur catches twinkling light
spots motifs hypnotize.
He paces the cage, restless.
The black claw wants
to tear open raw flesh.
Pulsing dense warmth
flows in the heavy air.

To get closer—
just for a while,
to look into gold-red, cold eyes
To touch the mystery,
to ask what it feels
when it rips apart the skull
and slurps the fading beingness…
Is curiosity worth it?

Nature is no accident,
Nothing is left to mere chance.
Stare too long into his eyes,
the barriers come down…
Is that you, or is that I?
An ominous gaze is a gift
that unveils the fated future.

If they open the door
He reacts without control.
His instincts unerringly
detect unspoken warnings.
Run away,
Turn to stone,
Scream or Faint if you want.

The shrinking, narrow space
puts everyone to the test
in a world of large and small cages.
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