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 Jan 2022 Melissa S
HOPE
TWO THINGS
 Jan 2022 Melissa S
HOPE
I idolise it here
And despise it here,

We rekindled our love,
Under the stars,
Looking at the moon
Yet part of me died in here.
 Jan 2022 Melissa S
Onoma
snow has to

unglue her face,

to uplift from a

blanket.

as she's coming

around...I regret

I forgot to check

in on her.

though temporary

whiteness has come

to be measurable.
 Jan 2022 Melissa S
Thomas W Case
This sickness has
derailed me.
I've scaled back on
the things that
matter most.
Life has become
askew.
I'm tangled up in
blue and red lines,
back against the
fence.
I'm frozen and febrile.
Insecticide burns on
my spirit.
Pesticide in my lungs.
I'm sick of all
these chemicals.
They are in my dreams,
and in my bones.
Maybe, she is the infection...
Never mind, it's just Covid 19.
I tested positive for Covid yesterday.
 Jan 2022 Melissa S
Ashly Kocher
Climb aboard
Hold onto my wings
Close your eyes
Let’s go chase your dreams
Flying high in the sky
Catching your thoughts
One dream at a time
 Jan 2022 Melissa S
Nat Lipstadt
“Great is the art of beginning, but greater the art is of ending”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
                                                      ­  <?>

how we age is both simultaneously
conscious and unconscious,
uncontrolled and uncomfortable


we never fail to recognize the mirror image, yet,
always thinking out loud in our brain that’s not me!


some remember their successes; others, do not,
perhaps they cannot recall the few, or more likely
acknowledge them as triumphs, as the scale is a
canon always in flux by time grinding us fine


we readily admit, or do not deny, the lines upon our bodies
are highway markers of journeys, yet we know not
who built these signposts, how they came to be here,
but that they ours, unique and accumulated, undeniable


Longfellow’s observation above hits me
with the  fullness of a wet washcloth;
intemperate and stinging,
but not unpleasantly so.

each of our beginnings are artful;
full of promise and worthy tales;
we think this. is normative,
the way a young life is proscribed,
meant to be enjoyed.

of course, this is not necessarily so;
indeed, the exiting is a violent decay,
unrelenting and foisted upon us and
we try, to amend it, our transient departure,
so that we remove the artifice, keep only the art,
the skilled communication of what we valued,
the things that are progeny, living or material,
those clues to whom we are, to whom it may concern, 
we were


Dec. 25, 2021
 Jan 2022 Melissa S
Sally A Bayan
On new year's eve, i watched my five
granddaughters having fun on the front
lawn, bright with Christmas lights...their
sparklers, turned into fencing swords.
they took pictures and videos, laughed a lot
while they sang and danced on the grass.

Youthful innocence...being carefree,
are the most wonderful times in our
lives...exploring, discovering truths
about ourselves and people around us,
dreaming, building goals...when love
conquers our young hearts, the waters
in our world, turn crystal clear...every
scene sparkles...is etched in our minds.

Time brings changes...nothing remains
except our memories...but, we can
remember, we can savour our youthful
years...no space for despair...there is
beauty and inspiration found, even in
the most ordinary things and situations,
like, unknown plants suddenly growing
in the garden, bearing colorful flowers,
those shy weeds with leaves that close up
like clams when treaded upon.....and, yes,

there's the lowly grass, freshest of green
in the summer and during the rainy season,
blades are dulled by wetness...humbled
by heavy rainfall, kissing the ground, yet,
how easily they refresh our tired feet,
our world-weary eyes and minds.
my heart leaps as soon as my feet get
to feel their cold, soothing touch.

I look forward to more Christmases and
new year's eves...more fun times with
the girls on the grass...the grass, which
to me, will always be so splendid!
:::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::
(Seeing my five granddaughters having fun on the garden grass
  on new year's eve, reminded me of one of my favorite poems.)

           Splendour in the Grass

"What though the radiance which was once so bright
  Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;

We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;

In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.


.......(by William Wordsworth).....


sally b

Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
New year's eve, December 2021
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