Darkness overshadows the light;
Another night settles in.
An eerie quiet fills the air,
As birds and crickets fall silenced.
No wind flutters the leaves,
The world drifts to nothingness.
Hearts slowly beat while hopes dim.
Grayness fills once vibrant eyes,
Hair grows thin and bones turn brittle.
Soon everything may turn to ash,
If there is no saving grace.
Will the breezes blow once more,
And the sun bring its light,
Will the wilderness find its voice,
And our hearts know love once more?
Oppressive heat took over the once air conditioned room. A lone window opened to the world outside revealed what was sure to come. No cooling breeze to lift spirits; instead breaths were full of sighs. Nothing would be easy as limbs are heavy with sweat.
Moving the large and small pots into the already crowded garage proved tough. So much of this stuff needs to go, but not this week. Storm’s a’comin’ and that takes priority.
Battery backups and chargers plugged in, filling up the power. Water stockpiled along with non-perishable foods. This time, they took it a little more serious. The last one left them in the dark for a week.
Plans put in place; their home would be the family home base. Time to set up the bed in her office to host nephew and kitty. The other room ready for mom.
A spare blow up mattress available too, should anyone else need. Now we watch and wait. Hopefully it keeps moving West. Time will tell. Storm’s a’comin’.
Her tired fingers pinched and squeezed,
Poked and clasped through the sandwich of cloth.
Her eyes squinted, looking through the years of age,
She knew much longer she wouldn’t be able to do more.
But, it filled her quiet days since he’d passed away.
Pieces of cloth cut from old house dresses,
Children’s and grandchildren’s clothes too.
Her daughter-in-law would be along soon,
Whisking her away to the fabric store in town.
The quilting frame was already set with today’s project.
Brightly colored fabrics already pieced,
Batting sandwiched in the middle.
This one is for the next bride in the family;
Each young lady would eventually get one.
The gossip starts as they gather around,
What happened at church, who is in to visit,
And the stories carried on and on
While each stitch was delivered with love.
Soon the quilt would be ready for binding,
While another one waited in the wings.
Such were the days of the quilting bees.
Startling responses to normal inconveniences.
I understand how it happens, show patience.
It’s getting to others though, so I must act.
Dealing with perfectionism is hard.
I face it every day, every time things go wrong.
Now I need to help another, but where to start?
They have to own it and develop coping mechanisms.
But they have to be willing to grow.
Wish me luck!
Step lightly as you stalk your prey.
Watch it’s every move before you attack.
Soften your breath and silence your tongue.
Follow with your eyes first, head second.
Don’t let your focus stray from the goal,
Avoid the distractions which surround.
Time it just right before the trigger releases.
Pounce, pounce, pounce!
Teetering in white heels, only a couple inches tall.
Tugging at her dress, making it stay in place,
Blue taffeta with a sweetheart neckline and an a-line skirt.
Fidgeting, curling a strand of her bouncy hair.
She came with a “date”, just a friend for real.
Standing with her girlfriends, giggling away.
Watching the ‘mature’ girls dance with boys.
She and her friends headed outside.
The sun shown bright and a camera came out.
Cheesy smiles, silly poses, and giggles,
Everyone dressed to the nines.
Thirst came over so they head back in.
The punch was sweet and cold,
A boy dressed in a blue suit served the cups.
A slowish song came on, an 80s ballad,
and her ‘date’ swayed awkwardly on the floor.
Finally, the dimmed lights flickered on,
And the kids made their way to the doors.
A quick peck on the cheek for thanks,
Happy she didn’t have to go it alone.
First Dance.
It’s still in the eighties, autumn come soon.
I want to pull out cozy sweaters
And lace up my Merrill boots.
We don’t get the piles of leaves here,
But I hope soon for a slight chill in the air.
Time to bake and cook fall favs,
Cinnamon and nutmeg and cloves too,
Vanilla, apples, and maybe pumpkin for you.
Days grow shorter and nights grow longer.
It even means time to get out for walks,
Finally the heat will break away and
Sweat no longer soaks through.
Autumn, Autumn, please come soon!
Why is it I want to write stories with you?
Then live them out as something new.
Come up with little vignettes with you,
Dream them up line by line or two.
Explore new journeys with you,
And have real adventures too.
Why does my soul call for you?
Prose and poetry easily flow through
When I reconnect with you,
Even though it is for a moment or a few.
It is my unexplained connection with you.
Do you want to write new stories too?
I wonder if it is the same for you.
Are we each other’s muses true?
Bad Saturday night poetry at its finest! 🤭
Out of the running. She turned away.
Why does she discount herself like this?
Being a peace keeper is her default.
Stepping back to the safety of shadows.
She’ll fight and will be headstrong, then,
She just shuts down. Why?
It’s a defense mechanism,
From beating her head
into brick walls too many times;
A quiet whisper repeatedly torturing…
You aren’t good enough. Not worthy.
And whole bunch of other crap.
She knows those words are lies,
But she seeks peace instead of fighting,
Calm and quiet instead of drama.
Hug her, hold her, understand, and let her be.
She’ll come back stronger, she just needs time.
Travel beckons and I hear it’s call.
My life has led me near and far.
But one place I have not seen
Still echoes it’s call within me.
It’s not my culture, but I appreciate it.
Please no claims of misappropriation!
Growing up, I had an aunt,
She heard the same call.
She would buy me trinkets
From various Asian cultures.
I still display a few of these things.
A small silk covered jewelry box
With embroidered butterflies
Sits on my jewelry cabinet.
A marble piece, hand painted,
With a dark haired geisha under a Sakura.
I remember going to EPCOT,
The world showcase was the best.
I loved wandering through the Japan pavilion
And the China one too. Items of bamboo
And jade, silk and such; but oh, the food!
Teppanyaki was fun to watch,
And red bean ice cream for desert to boot.
But what I loved the most were the quiet spots,
Koi ponds and bamboo watering spouts,
Gentle sounds and calming waters about.
As I grew older, my tastes became more worldly,
I discovered “real” Asian cuisine,
Hibachi, noodles, sushi and dim sum, my fav!
I had done dim sum in Florida, but
I was amazed when I enjoyed it in San Fran.
The lines were out the door,
the steam carts were flowing,
And the kitchen specials were amazing.
Give me bao buns and gai lan with oyster sauce any day!
When I found myself single at 31,
I fell in love with a JC Penney framed piece,
Just a print of a simple vase holding orchids;
It included Asian details, such as a Hanko.
It hangs over my dresser, near my trinkets,
Including a silk fan with my name in script.
So imagine my surprise years later,
You sporting that Japanese Superman shirt;
I didn’t forget how you liked the displays at EPCOT
and the katanas at Downtown Disney too.
I can’t help but wonder about so much…
One day, I hope to make it to that part of the world,
I just wonder who will be standing by my side.
Dawn Renee Writes 