Clock chimes twelve
Into midnight delve
Whirling wonder portals helm
Takes the hand to dance beyond worlds where two shall pair
Witches Goblins Shadows Stare
Dark and light
Human being with entities night
For a scream
Each Sunday this lady walks by me
We both exchange smiles and a few pleasant words
This morning a surprise awaited
Both said hello addressed the cold then out comes a card and a present
A Christmas card to wish good cheer and a little box with chocolates inside
Little did she know I had not had a great night before and the presents unexpected so sweet so lovely made such an impact
I thanked her wholeheartedly then walked on in my tracks
As tears fell down from my eyes
You never know how far a smile can travel :-)
(Morning Poetry with Lola)
Wednesday started with a cold, cold morning.
i wrapped myself with a thick blanket,
hid my "popsicle toes,".....seeking warmth
from recollections that played in my mind
like pleasant, joyful summer, music.
when my kids were toddlers,
i started them off with, "all things bright and
beautiful, all creatures great and small..."
but, as they grew a little older, my mother,
she woke them up each morning with,
"o captain, my captain,
our fearful trip is done..."
and then, tomorrow, we would hear,
" i shot an arrow into the air
it fell to earth...i knew not where,"
the next morning, my mother's feature could be,
"of course, i love my country,
the land in which i live,"
some days we would hear reruns....but,
the week would never be complete, without
her most favored one....which, she delivered
with a valiant voice, while pounding her chest:
"...i am the master of my fate;
i am the captain of my soul!"
my kids rubbed-open their eyes in awe,
as they listened to their lola..'til they were done
with their morning rituals.
their lola kept a copy of longfellow's evangeline
but she didn't live long enough
to share it with her five great-granddaughters.
God knows...my late mother knows, i did my part,
to open the eyes...and minds of these girls,
to waken THAT awareness in them, that would
make them see, and feel...the beauty of poetry.
not everyone realizes the importance,
the necessity.....of poetry,
that life itself...........is poetry,
that, when you're a poet,
and when you're deep into it,
........you cannot just let go
for, it clings to your heart and soul,
it is like,
your second skin
it's a hard habit
the older girls read poetry...and mythology, as well,
a mix of classic and contemporary,
......but they and i, have added thoreau,
dylan thomas, teasedale, and many more
names to their lola's most favored
longfellow, henney, and whitman.
Copyright December 7, 2017
Once again, I am unable to upload a new poem to HP, as a 403 error continues to pop up. It's been a good few days now, and unless the issue is resolved, I doubt my activity on here will be as frequent. I know others have had the same issue, but others have had no trouble. I firmly believe that this remains an HP mishap, as it occurs on every browser.
I hope answers come in due course. The only way I can upload is by saving a blank draft, refreshing the page, typing the poem out and then making it public. Not as easy as it should be.
Again, this non-poem will be removed soon.
I haven't been writing as you know
Primarily dew to the ice and snow
The chill that sets within my bones
No, not a single message home
I haven't mentioned
My points of views
The frozen tundra
Controls my moods
Plow the drive
Shovel the walk
My frozen fingers
Can hardly talk
And you so warm
In your southern state
Where the winter chill
Is not your fate
Not even an extra blanket
Or a hot coco
Oh how blessed to be
Of a warmer soul!
In the process of blocking
The things that hurt me
I may block many other things
But I don't forget you ever
I'm sorry I am just in
Mourning of the loss of
And I'll be sitting here
Maybe locked in these
4 walls blocking the light
In darkness to match my
One day I promise I will be
Back and we will laugh
And maybe even dance
We will be
Be so happy