"ashleigh" poems - Hello Poetry

(A Stir of Fear) A deep sigh seemed to have done some good. Looking at her, anticipating, expecting... Waiting for friends to arrive In a place unknown to us both.... So lovely in her silence, While going through a moment of anxiety. It creates within me, a STIR OF FEAR... Must I leave her? I must teach her, to be on her own, Now...now? But how? Oh, how it breaks me... There she stands, tall, in her black shirt, Walking shorts, rubber shoes, backpack and Electric guitar hanging on her shoulders... Her hair, gathered in a bun at the back.... So naive, simply, effortlessly beautiful. How do you let go of your eldest, First granddaughter...soon to be sixteen, When you are fully aware of the perils That surround the outside world, Even in broad daylight? Aware of her innocence, her beauty, and Most importantly, The elements that could jeopardize her safety ..... Do I wait for her? Do I watch her while with her friends? Let her know, I mistrust everyone around her? Almost told her I would wait for her outside... It wasn't mine, it was against everyone's, But it was her choice that I had to respect. So, I left her there in her friend's house... Dark street, dark alley, dark-colored gate, Dark house, dark garden lights, everything Was dark to my eyesight that very moment... There was no peaceful moment, while at home. The rocking chair at the veranda was a refuge... My ever-faithful friend, kept me company... There, I rocked myself, slowly, endlessly, With the hope of my fears disappearing... Thinking of what somebody once told me: "There is nothing to fear, but fear itself..." It had been a long day, a long night as well... My bed time...but first, I gratified myself.... Took a glimpse inside the kids' room, Where my eldest granddaughter, Too tired to go straight to Their house next door, Was sound asleep, Comfortable and warm Safe from harm, Here in my house. And yet.... There are questions still running in my mind: She has her parents, why do I worry so much? How much longer can I protect her? How much longer must I shelter her? How do I deal with my next equally lovely Granddaughter, also long-haired, tall, Also with her own guitar and backpack, When it is her time to go to a friend's house? Will I still be around when it is time for the Three younger girls to visit their friends, too? Oh, God! The ordeal of first times never ends. (For Ashleigh) Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

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Jan 15, 2014

Jan 15, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC

sally-a-bayan

Inner Battles...

(A Stir of Fear) A deep sigh seemed to have done some good. Looking at her, anticipating, expecting... Waiting for friends to arrive In a place unknown to us both.... So lovely in her silence, While going through a moment of anxiety. It creates within me, a STIR OF FEAR... Must I leave her? I must teach her, to be on her own, Now...now? But how? Oh, how it breaks me... There she stands, tall, in her black shirt, Walking shorts, rubber shoes, backpack and Electric guitar hanging on her shoulders... Her hair, gathered in a bun at the back.... So naive, simply, effortlessly beautiful. How do you let go of your eldest, First granddaughter...soon to be sixteen, When you are fully aware of the perils That surround the outside world, Even in broad daylight? Aware of her innocence, her beauty, and Most importantly, The elements that could jeopardize her safety ..... Do I wait for her? Do I watch her while with her friends? Let her know, I mistrust everyone around her? Almost told her I would wait for her outside... It wasn't mine, it was against everyone's, But it was her choice that I had to respect. So, I left her there in her friend's house... Dark street, dark alley, dark-colored gate, Dark house, dark garden lights, everything Was dark to my eyesight that very moment... There was no peaceful moment, while at home. The rocking chair at the veranda was a refuge... My ever-faithful friend, kept me company... There, I rocked myself, slowly, endlessly, With the hope of my fears disappearing... Thinking of what somebody once told me: "There is nothing to fear, but fear itself..." It had been a long day, a long night as well... My bed time...but first, I gratified myself.... Took a glimpse inside the kids' room, Where my eldest granddaughter, Too tired to go straight to Their house next door, Was sound asleep, Comfortable and warm Safe from harm, Here in my house. And yet.... There are questions still running in my mind: She has her parents, why do I worry so much? How much longer can I protect her? How much longer must I shelter her? How do I deal with my next equally lovely Granddaughter, also long-haired, tall, Also with her own guitar and backpack, When it is her time to go to a friend's house? Will I still be around when it is time for the Three younger girls to visit their friends, too? Oh, God! The ordeal of first times never ends. (For Ashleigh) Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

67

Behind the youth room, sitting on the pavement, I think of past times. I sit quietly and submerse my mind in the memories… And I wonder, if I leave, will I ever come back and do this again? Feel the sweet nostalgia? Will I tell my kids about these memories? Will I tell them about the ones that haunt me as well? The ones I wish I could forget? I think I will. I wish my parents had emphasized on the horrific things those memories do to you. Weeds overrun Ashleigh’s and my old meeting place. Our drainage grate where we told secrets have been overtaken by bushes. “My chest hurts a lot today.” “And when I look back, I see you waving” -Grizzly Bear, Fix it

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Sep 24, 2012

Sep 24, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC

songofjoy

Written in my journal

Behind the youth room, sitting on the pavement, I think of past times. I sit quietly and submerse my mind in the memories… And I wonder, if I leave, will I ever come back and do this again? Feel the sweet nostalgia? Will I tell my kids about these memories? Will I tell them about the ones that haunt me as well? The ones I wish I could forget? I think I will. I wish my parents had emphasized on the horrific things those memories do to you. Weeds overrun Ashleigh’s and my old meeting place. Our drainage grate where we told secrets have been overtaken by bushes. “My chest hurts a lot today.” “And when I look back, I see you waving” -Grizzly Bear, Fix it

10

In my life i have learned to accept the fact that i will never find happiness , i've learned to accept that all always be alone , an i will never have a childhood friend or even a true friend , i accept that i will never trust anyone an always feel out of place , i accept that my innocents was taken from me from the start an in my 21 years of being here i was just filled with false hope which turned into a heart filled of doubt. i accept that my childhood dreams where just makebelive ,an that my mother really should have aborted me ...because all i became was MY MOTHER'S DISASTER ........... WRITTEN BY : Ashleigh Renee Todd.

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Dec 23, 2011

Dec 23, 2011 at 12:29 AM UTC

ashleigh-renee-todd

I am my Mother's Disaster

In my life i have learned to accept the fact that i will never find happiness , i've learned to accept that all always be alone , an i will never have a childhood friend or even a true friend , i accept that i will never trust anyone an always feel out of place , i accept that my innocents was taken from me from the start an in my 21 years of being here i was just filled with false hope which turned into a heart filled of doubt. i accept that my childhood dreams where just makebelive ,an that my mother really should have aborted me ...because all i became was MY MOTHER'S DISASTER ........... WRITTEN BY : Ashleigh Renee Todd.

3

Two hours earlier i whispered to Whitely "go, if you must..." My dog Moe is sad his father, Whitely just died. how do i tell Ashleigh? Beatrice? they're still in school... Sally :(

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Aug 17, 2017

Aug 17, 2017 at 2:44 AM UTC

sally-a-bayan

Sad 10-Ws on a Thursday Afternoon

Two hours earlier i whispered to Whitely "go, if you must..." My dog Moe is sad his father, Whitely just died. how do i tell Ashleigh? Beatrice? they're still in school... Sally :(

10

___________________________________________________________ All these threes making me queasy March third nineteen ninety three the day I came to be and what did I see? A flood from Mississippi oh yeah and I'm a Pisces oh but my name is Merril B and the meaning of Merril is shining sea and the spelling of Merril is three plus three and I have three sisters of Hailey of Kayla of Ashleigh where ought they be? One is pregnant with her first baby Another dropped out she's on a spree Youngest is brightest and smart is she but what about me? writing some **** about the number three

0

Apr 19, 2014

Apr 19, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC

meb-1

1993

___________________________________________________________ All these threes making me queasy March third nineteen ninety three the day I came to be and what did I see? A flood from Mississippi oh yeah and I'm a Pisces oh but my name is Merril B and the meaning of Merril is shining sea and the spelling of Merril is three plus three and I have three sisters of Hailey of Kayla of Ashleigh where ought they be? One is pregnant with her first baby Another dropped out she's on a spree Youngest is brightest and smart is she but what about me? writing some **** about the number three

20

I kissed you, once. Twice. Three or four or five Ecstatic times, or maybe more. I kissed You once when I shouldn't have, many more When I should have. In a park and with Red October on the tee-vee and Sean Connery Somehow pretending to be Russian. I kissed you under the fireworks On the Fourth, and in a caboose At your family reunion. Remember How we'd walk around at high school Football games, back when anything Was possible, and AIM was popular? Over six times: there were marshmallows, And the old, broken, Charlotte High School gym. When I asked you out, I'd been dared. The first time I kissed you, I was dared. That kiss, Cliche and on the bleachers, brought Butterflies that I only just fought off. You, Ashleigh, were my first love, not named "Wrestling"-- but I went to you-ess-enn-ay And you went to em-ess-you. You moved To greater Lansing from Port Huron Just as I packed up my stuff to crisscross My way over four years to San Diego. I kissed you, once-- or was it more?

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Apr 22, 2014

Apr 22, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC

k-m-hanton

In Ports Huron and San Diego

I kissed you, once. Twice. Three or four or five Ecstatic times, or maybe more. I kissed You once when I shouldn't have, many more When I should have. In a park and with Red October on the tee-vee and Sean Connery Somehow pretending to be Russian. I kissed you under the fireworks On the Fourth, and in a caboose At your family reunion. Remember How we'd walk around at high school Football games, back when anything Was possible, and AIM was popular? Over six times: there were marshmallows, And the old, broken, Charlotte High School gym. When I asked you out, I'd been dared. The first time I kissed you, I was dared. That kiss, Cliche and on the bleachers, brought Butterflies that I only just fought off. You, Ashleigh, were my first love, not named "Wrestling"-- but I went to you-ess-enn-ay And you went to em-ess-you. You moved To greater Lansing from Port Huron Just as I packed up my stuff to crisscross My way over four years to San Diego. I kissed you, once-- or was it more?

25

What I see and what you say are not the same, all the same, I love you... I was never mad at you for broken promises because I did and I do, I love you... I want to protect to to the end but I misunderstood what you said. Your sweet honey words tinged with pain; I tried I still love you... I'm sorry I didn't get your message in time. A couple words were missing. I did my best to mad lib the rest but I made some mistakes; I'm sorry... I messed up and your Hole family knows. I tried to dig you out, But I realize now; they're your Whole and they're there to stay. I'm sorry... I misunderstood and I cant take that away, but I need you to know ...I love you and I'm sorry. Morgan Ashleigh Smith, will you give me a second chance?

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Oct 25, 2013

Oct 25, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC

david-messmer

All the same... By: David Messmer

What I see and what you say are not the same, all the same, I love you... I was never mad at you for broken promises because I did and I do, I love you... I want to protect to to the end but I misunderstood what you said. Your sweet honey words tinged with pain; I tried I still love you... I'm sorry I didn't get your message in time. A couple words were missing. I did my best to mad lib the rest but I made some mistakes; I'm sorry... I messed up and your Hole family knows. I tried to dig you out, But I realize now; they're your Whole and they're there to stay. I'm sorry... I misunderstood and I cant take that away, but I need you to know ...I love you and I'm sorry. Morgan Ashleigh Smith, will you give me a second chance?

16

Would I recognize you If I saw you again Would you smile Say hello Remember me? "Ashleigh, right?" Would I blush I'm sure I would blush "Noah, right? Fumble over my words Wanting more than the moment we had in that silver box The elevator doors opened And I will never see you again Unless you were meant to open more For me And you would ask me, "Could I call you sometime?" You, with the strawberry cheeks Shyly "Of course" Favorite pen on hand His hand Noah The boy on the 4th floor I will probably never see again Sincerely, the girl on the 4th floor you will hopefully see again

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Jan 25, 2016

Jan 25, 2016 at 4:17 PM UTC

ashleigh-blair

4th Floor Boy

Would I recognize you If I saw you again Would you smile Say hello Remember me? "Ashleigh, right?" Would I blush I'm sure I would blush "Noah, right? Fumble over my words Wanting more than the moment we had in that silver box The elevator doors opened And I will never see you again Unless you were meant to open more For me And you would ask me, "Could I call you sometime?" You, with the strawberry cheeks Shyly "Of course" Favorite pen on hand His hand Noah The boy on the 4th floor I will probably never see again Sincerely, the girl on the 4th floor you will hopefully see again

25

In Ashleigh's book, I now write & provide her with this true insight: We have yet to be friends- how we're connected despite, *all of the habits we- Choose; Still, to diminish the light*.

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Aug 12, 2020

Aug 12, 2020 at 5:43 AM UTC

Hardwire

In Ashleigh's Book

In Ashleigh's book, I now write & provide her with this true insight: We have yet to be friends- how we're connected despite, *all of the habits we- Choose; Still, to diminish the light*.

6