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father-watching
faraway
triggered sweet by
memory plucked
from twinge of
heart at
husband whiskers
sprinkled in
the sink


father
slow transforming
out of sight
whisker white
a-creep through
long-time
beard of boyish
blondish-brown


sprouting
scraggled out from
ear and nose
and knuckle
round


eyes a-cave
and sunken deep
in shaded-over
cavities


for inward looking
more than
out


with no more
footballs
flung
about


and no more
children yanking
on the waking hours'
daggy trousers


for weeping
over old-time
music secret
in the dark


up with the
birds
down with
the sun


midlife
rush at last
a-hush and
calm in its
surrender
done


bones exposed
of parenthood
held frail a-clung
by gristle grey of
simple habits


coffee thick
and silky
run with
milk


and crispest
crusty bread
torn up
for dipping into
hearty stock


with olives
cheese and
ham on top


a drop
of something
oaky sipped
and languished


a-crawl with
thoughts of
father own
disintegrating


boyhood memories
coddled close
and satiating


with daughter
unbeknownst
father-watching
faraway


© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield
A man to whom one has looked up with reverence is especially treasured. His strength, his masculinity, his ability to protect those he loves. And as he ages his loved ones notice a softness creeping in, which only belies the softy they always knew he was inside.

But nevertheless it is poignant to watch—even from afar—as a great man begins to wither. Ever so slightly. But wither. In his body only, not his mind. But wither.
The secrets of a snowflake
catch our eye
as it glistens past a reflected shard of moonlight
the wind off a butterfly wing
catch our ear
as it glides towards its destination
exhilerating coolness as the Sun rises
pushing night air to earth

lasting sound and image
like my child's first breath
these are the gifts given us
alongside the torment we must endure
we the poets
seekers of life at emotions pinnacle
surveyors of every energy
joy or sadness

in the fray
we are watching you
oldie
Bethie Feb 2018
Once when we were little, we didn't like each other
Then we both got older and noticed one another
And then we became friends and I couldn't even see
Until your little sister said you had a crush on me
Then I realized you were a boy, and that I was a girl
And that my heart began to give a little twirl
You were the very best friend I've ever known
But then you had to grow up, and leave me all alone
I saw you were a teen, but I was still a kid
And then from that day on, from you I always hid
I grew to really like you, and yes, to even love
But you never seemed to see me, I was under, you above
And then I grew up too, but you I always watched
To you I wanted to talk, but conversation always botched
And then I went through terrible things
And so did you, our scars still sting
We both emerged more grown and tall
But next to you I still felt small
And still I do, and still I watch
My love for you goes up a knotch
But I fear to you I don't exist
What should I do, please tell me this
Alicia Allen Feb 2018
I spend my days, in a haze, daydreaming
About somebody else's man.
I've got my head in the clouds and my heart soaring wild.
I spend my time daydreaming, about a man that aint mine.

I sit and I wonder, about the taste of his lips
I've seen him a time or two dozen around the way.
I watch as he go, to and fro, everyday
And I keep a wonder, wondering when its gonna be my turn.

I spend my days, in a haze, daydreaming
About somebody else's man.
Silverflame Jan 2018
meandering thoughts
a central, vicious star writes
whilst watching the skulls
showyoulove Dec 2017
Watch for the star shining in the east
Watch for the prowling of the beast
Watch for the light that neither falters nor dims
Listen for the sound of the angelic hymns

Watch for the coming of the one true king
Watch for the baby in the manger
May we bless him by the gifts we bring
May we see him in the face of the stranger

Watch for the day that is drawing near
Watch and be wary so you can hear
Him when he comes in all his glory
To write the final chapter in creation’s story

Watch and wait with bright joyful eyes
Watch Christ and ever stay fixed on the prize
Watch and see the greatest gift the world got
Do we remember or acknowledge? I think we have not

I wish I could see what Jesus sees when he looks at you and me
I wish I understood the price he paid to set us all free
I wish I could turn our thinking upside down
And I wish I could make people smile more than frown

I wish a lot of things but what can I do to make an impact
To change or save a life and not be an act
The little things we do can turn the world
There is poetry in all nature and a flower unfurled

So let us watch for the coming of our precious savior’s birth
Reminding the world just how much we’re worth
That Christmas is so much more than just stuff
We have family friends and faith and that is quite enough
Lisa Dec 2017
I'm in a very odd state,
Like logically I know I have a lot to do but emotionally I'm just not...registering it? It's not that I'm calm, it's like I'm in a sound proof bowl
watching all my responsibilities and emotions pressing up against the glass, yelling, and my school work is a ram trying to break through and my family is like digging under me trying to sweep me out but won't, and I'm just standing here, watching it all muffled,
like deaf silence.
Madam X Nov 2017
Someone is watching. This I know to be true.
They sit there and watch every thing that I do.
The music I play, the books that I read,
the shows that I watch when I turn on TV. The opinions that formulate inside of their head,
is something I fear and something I dread. There isn't just one. They have a whole crew.
Millions and millions, not one or two. People are everywhere and if they are not, there's a mouse or an insect deep in its thoughts.
Staring and watching with its tiny black eyes.
Take one more step and they'll run and they'll hide.
People will watch you and be really mean. They think it's okay bc their thoughts can't be seen.
But really inside, that's the core of all evil. It's starts out small and it grows till its lethal.
Humans will smile and say their kind thoughts,
but walk away for a second and hear their real talk.
Please listen closely, it'll come in disguise. It's hard to dissect all of these lies.
Ophelia O Nov 2017
yellow nights and bluebells
puddles of water, deeper pools than
the constant lake we muddled through
sunbeams always as bright as possible
torrential downpours of Zeus’s callings
ever enchanted we watch as she follows

curiosity growing;
a wiggle in the wet!

an earthquake of micro proportions
she, a young god, watches diligent
blank features, and the anticipation-
He’s here; creeping along, thick fingers reflect
drops of water and mud encasing small paws
Grabbed!

He is here
but not for long, she
a shriek of young birdsong
reverberates loud enough to break
the melody of a rainy afternoon
each drop sings
remembering childhood
Journey of Days Nov 2017
watching
from not quite the shadow
but the phase of light
just inside the rings
radiating out from the candle
here I can see the others
watching
if I time it perfectly
in that phase of light
just inside the rings
they
      cannot
                 see
                        me
                             watching

@journeyofdays
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