EMOTIONAL CONFETTI
Fluctuating feelings,endless raindrops flowing freely in our minds beginning with weeping...
Simple expressions smirking, smiling never beguiling picking up perceived perceptions...
Gradually graduating, waiting to be defined curiosity as a helper.
Adding to a emotional list,simple samples to leave us smiling, storing fledgling perceptions.
Growth of anonymous senses without pretenses layering in levels loosely stacked.
Unknown actions can create new consciousness clear paths rapidly become another titillation,unfocused, acquiring new knowledge of our senses.

Fables or cut & dried on a table, reminders of danger, more learning is required, to be careful, actions have reactions.
Middle aged resilience leans towards laziness , simple lessons idly waiting, rising or raging hormones...
Maybe now reverting back to to an open minded teenage mess.
Stop,think, forward with learned caution ,processing procedures or fall into flagrant mating.
The lessons learned thrown aside, spontaneity instead of logic, not reasoning for future distress.

Friendly, finicky, joyful, jovial, anxious, regressing, positive, become life shaping a personality.
Lessons falling from skies ,bubbling from underneath, like it or not always along the pathway
Absorbing through language, actions, maybe lineal, inherited...then sharpened to become more an internal part of our individuality.
In stages - never really understanding the gauges - a deeper spirit ,developing whit clamoring, climbing up a bit.
Finding feelings, new intensities, finding with more fervour, progressing with new sentimentality...

Fluctuating with a daily play, goodness with glee, sadness with wrath, passion with affection...
Sensibility - gifted through experiences - leading to instinct, forming, acquiring apathy.
Flowing like chad, ribbons of color, grandiose glitter - as if from an exploding pinata. A distraction or attraction...

Do we learn to love or live to love?
Left with only what we've lived...
The feeling; our only collection. R.C.

COLLECTIONS

Oh the endless possibilities,all that is or will become within our sight to be touched  smelt or  felt

Personal memorabilia builds into more than recollections ,from buds to blossoming into full blown obsessions  

Numismatic  fancy word for adding another to the ***,dates or weights all pitching towards the wealth

Postcards from yonder,seashells to make us wonder,each time feeling more & more obliged to add another to our possessions

Many admire a rhyme another note always gets their vote ,passion play often the only way, sounds helping their health

Never hear of a person acquiring empty shelves,books will fill any nook ,stacked vertical or leaned horizontal,their words have answered many questions

Rag doll & a race car now turned to bunches of Barbies spinning Hot Wheels
their true beauty just another notch in the belt

Ticking of clocks always keeping time ,some require mere cases, meager to monstrous taking on entire museums

Sending a simple letter has now gone postal,finding that rare picture will make their hearts melt

Garbles of marbles across from mismatched matchbooks,their  appeal is real
as we add more pieces

Bats & ***** gathering dust,minor leaguers gained no fame ,now  junk transformed to memorabilia their distinction now unparalleled  

Avon calling the scent once a common present,not so old bottles now treated like divas

Knick or nack another's brick brack  maybe a future adorers prize
our simple junk adds some *****,past brought to present at a glance
those many baubles just waiting to be shared. R.C.  

AROUND THE CORNER

Has it all really ended this way ,so abrupt ,did we ever believe there were proper rules

Starting with a simple path ,looking out ,moving on ,no reasons to fear

Trails & trials, simplest of words bunched into files, merely collecting samples some basic others held as jewels

Wading forward, occasionally stuck in the muck & mire,when slipping in  time,  switch a gear

Why bother to say it if you weren't going to play it ,lessons in hindsight so often overlooked

Final finish came without notice, leaving reversal irrelevant,left with simple knowledge of each day we should revere

Mid life not in crisis but simple evaluation can be revealing,  merely more pages to read in hopefully a longer book

Full circle, 360 degrees what is the comparison for completion,which direction are we supposed to stear

Wink,blink or a nod ,fast & faster is how long time may last ,did we remember to listen to that babbling brook

Unknown with a scent of caution, but not using  true fear to  take another swath

Greatest gorge to minor indent, move forward with strong intent,pure beauty when found  will become quite clear. R.C.

Nine years and still
we cradle our grief
carefully close,
like groceries
in paper bags.

Eventually the milk
will make its way
into the refrigerator;
the canned goods
will find their home
on pantry shelves.

Most things find
their proper place.

Eventually the hummingbirds
will ricochet against scorched air,
their delicate beaks stabbing
like needles into the feeder filled
with red nectar on the back porch.

Eventually our child
will make her way
back to us. Perhaps.

But I’ve heard
that shooting
****** feels
like being
buried under
an avalanche
of cotton *****.

For now it’s another
week, another month,
another trip to Safeway.

We drive home and wonder
why it is always snowing.
Behind a curtain of snow,
brake lights pulse, turning
the color of cotton candy,
dissolving into ghosts.

And with each turn,
the groceries shift
in the seat behind us.
From the spot where
our daughter used to sit,
there is a rustling sound—

a murmur of words
crossed off yet another list,
a language we’ve budgeted
for but cannot afford to hear.

PROTECTING INNOCENCE
From  first wishful whimpers  seeking outside guidance, waiting bedside to ease their journey as they glide

Mindless monitoring ,standing by awaiting ,like a living umbrella that is seeing the rain before it falls

Fondly finding nourishment or just subtle words of encouragement ,your always along for the ride

Upward & outward  growing never really watching where their going, idly we wait at their every beckoning call

Staunchly guarding babbling babes ,blocking bruises ignoring their sly ruses ,taking it all in stride

Bringing them up while also laying them down,waiting to walk until they are taught to crawl

Wonders of the world waiting to crush, sit idly not wanting to rush ,for deepest mysteries they will need a guide

Wishful thinking for the good ,but stuck following from sippy cups to them out drinking,showing the other side of the eight ball

Sparkling imaginations can bring many situations one fleeting another worrying
but still wanting to be the person in which they would confide

So from that first bashful brush is no escaping that deep personal rush ,something was deep set naturally to always protect them & give it your all.R.C.