Imagine being so excited, you just can’t wait.

The future is about to arrive,

Your heart beats hard in your chest.

He looks your way and smiles.

All you see is everything you want,

Everything you need,

Everything you ever hoped for.

Music has barely started.

No bouquet in hand.

However, you can’t wait!

You take off running to join him.

Your satin skirt floats on air.

Heels clicking across the tiles.

Giggles from your guests arise.

You stop and your skirt twirls and settles.

You turn, giving him a giddy smile.

He chuckles with excitement of his own.

Your eyes dance as you look at each other

Filled with so much love.

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Inspired by a video I saw on instagram. I wonder what it would feel like to be this excited. Imagine being so in love!

A rapid knock came from the front door;

Then the driver ran off to deliver something else.

Down the street the tail lights wandered off,

Before I could even fumble to the stoop.

I swung open the screen and what did I see?

A two-foot tall can with a design just for me.

The tin can was rather light as I picked it up.

I suspected its contents for just a moment.

A card greeted me under the gigantic bow.

“Wait to open until the first snow!”

I looked out to the colorful leaves,

It could be days or weeks before that day.

But I set it in the corner by the tree to wait.

Anticipation grew as the days shrunk.

We questioned and pondered and almost peeked.

But finally the clouds turned gray,

And the first dusting fell from the skies.

Out came the blankets and movies,

A cuddle fest was on for that night.

I looked at him and said, “Alright!

Time to see what auntie had in mind!”

So I peeled off the lid and let it clang to the ground.

I ripped open the vacuum packed bag,

Then, smells of caramel and cheese bloomed!

Something from my childhood I so enjoy, “Here!”

“Have a handful of Chicago style POPCORN!”

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Inspired by Lady Jabberwocky’s prompt:http://ladyjabberwocky.com/2022/09/12/prompt-of-the-week-ill-grab-the-popcorn/

Crickets chirp in the dusky twilight.

Night will soon be upon us again,

You and I will be under the same moon.

Softly I smile, happy for you and your life,

Shared with me in the occasional photo.

I forced myself to stay away when you were near;

Not wanting to interfere, as if I even could!

But I missed you, your touch, your friendship.

So we built our lives on separate paths,

Making them as solid as we could, knowing,

At any moment the right match could ignite,

So we kept buckets handy to squelch the flame.

Mine tied to commitment and duty,

Yours to the same but even more.

However, I hope you know my heart by now.

When commitments and duties are done,

May we find the path to our true love.

Inconsolable, I fell down the well of darkness.

Hurting, curled up, tired of the emotional beatings.

No one is responsible for my pain,

It is my own mind unleashing wrath,

Anxiety blowing events out of proportion.

He tries to understand, but doesn’t

He stands there, cross armed, grilling.

What happened? How can I help?

I don’t understand you through your tears.

How can he not see that I need to be held?

I need warmth and soothing and comfort.

I won’t ask though. I can barely get out a word.

Nothing he did, just getting overwhelmed.

Embarrassed in front of my peers and staff.

A clueless and careless presentation by another.

Do this, don’t to that! See this, don’t do this.

It is just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

But he doesn’t understand. So he walks off.

Letting me writhe in my own pain.

Creaky squeals make her smile.

Curled up in the front porch swing.

A blanket wrapped around tight.

A hot tea warms her chilled hands.

Rain pings on the tin roof.

And petrichor fills the air.

The mountains are blue and grey.

The green gives way to the haze.

Why do we worry and scurry about?

Isn’t this really the way to live?

Blossoms float on a gentle breeze,

Bringing delight to the faces in the crowd.

A magical tune fills the air,

Something foreign but familiar to the ear.

Water trickles through a bamboo tube,

Click, it flips and pours atop the stone.

A steady beat starts across the field,

Taiko drumming draws the crowd.

But the garden is full of peace

And pulls the quiet ones away

Cherry blossoms and bonsai surround,

Bamboo filters the sun’s rays,,

In the shade we take our rest,

Nibble on red bean ice cream,

And let the day fade away to night,

Until the navy sky comes to life,

Sparkles and booms bid us good night.

Now it is time to rest our weary heads.

The smell of the janitor’s cleaning fluid and aging books filled the air. A flickering light swung from its ballast. The building felt haunted but squeaking gym shoes and laughing students still echoed through the halls.

Locker doors hung haphazardly open. Stray notebooks, food wrappers, and pencils littered some while other were pristinely clean. The paint was chipped and faded from the abuse students extolled on them.

She found her way through the halls to the library. The doors were left ajar so she walked in. A woman smiled and waved hello as she moved behind the desk.

She opened the door to a back classroom. She could have come in the outside door, but she didn’t. The room was filled with blue cabinets and tables and chairs.

Two typewriters set on the countertop. The forms she needed to complete waited for her. This would be her last act before departing for summer.

The top of the first form was titled “Requisition Form”; the other “Grant.” She set to filling them out. A student had to fill them out, to make the request.

She tapped on the keys, making the case for the first computer to be used by the yearbook staff. Her advisor sat at the desk.

She would pause and ask for guidance, but finally the form was complete. The wheel gears spun as she pulled out the form. Her job here was done.

Now it was in the hands of others. Would they get a Macintosh next school year? Only time would tell.

Can’t seem to get anything right these days. Wandering the house as we near midnight. Uneasy at work, never seeming to succeed. When I stand up for myself, I’m aggressive; aka a bitch; or else I’m a damn doormat.

My shoulders and neck are wound up tight. I’m a walking ball of stress. My eyes strain even when closed, always looking left and right, waiting for the next punch, slam or jab.

My confidence is shaken and I am starting to crack. Why the hell couldn’t I just have been a pretty little housewife with two kids?

Oh yeah, not beautiful, so I had to be smart. Barren, so I must be a cold unfeeling wench. But right now, I feel too much, and I feel dumber than I ever have.

What is the lesson I am supposed to learn? Why haven’t I just learned it already? Where do I go from here?

Thoughts while wound up flood my brain as it nears midnight. I know things will be better, if I could shake this headache and get some sleep. But, my mask has slipped and Wonder Woman has left the building.