poetry, writing

Autumn is Upon Us

Crimson reds, sunset oranges, and golden yellows abound.

The crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, that sound.

Fireplaces soon will billow with soot and smoke,

The time nears to gather with friends and kinfolk.

High school football on Friday nights,

Marching bands playing under the lights,

A chill in the air brings sweater weather,

and an excuse to snuggle closer together.

Let’s enjoy a warm tea and give a cheer,

It’s no wonder I love this time of year!


🍁 Happy Fall Y’all! 🍂

writing

The Light

The darkness filled the void, nothing else visible except two figures. A light winged creature kneeled before a dark creature. The winged creature was bound by the wrists, reaching upward to its captor.

The dark creature looked down with blazing light eyes as he spoke with a booming voice, “Why does a creature of light have dark eyes?”

A quiet voice drifted upward as her head tilted toward his. “We all must have darkness to see the light. If everything were all dark, there would be nothing to see.”

His light eyes looked out. He knew the light would beat him if he let her go. “Why doesn’t the light destroy all the darkness, destroy me? Isn’t it supposed to be all good?”

She knew she could easily escape her bindings, although he did not realize. She rose to her feet, still looking up at him. “If everything were all light, there would be nothing to see.”

His eyes locked with hers. In that moment, he saw the reason for darkness in her eyes, and he understood. He understood now why light filled is own eyes.

Slowly, he began to untie the bindings. She stretched her wings and light shot out around them. Her hands, now free, embraced him. Darkness and light worked together.

The nothingness which surrounded them both changed into a beautiful meadow, dotted with flowers. A stream ran behind her. Dark mountains surrounded the meadow.

A zebra striped butterfly landed on the dark creature’s shoulder. He looked at it and smiled. “Balance,” he breathed out as the butterfly floated away. She smiled, and now he knew.

writing

Just Fishin’

He leaned over to her, lightly tapping her on the hand. “Hey, want to go fishing?” His voice was a little raspy with age. His eyes still twinkled with love.

Her hands were wrinkled and covered in veins, but he still loved her hands. She leaned her head over to his shoulder. Softly, in her own shaky voice, she said yes with a bright smile. She loved fishing with him. It was time for the two of them to be together, alone… No kids or grandkids or neighbors dropping by unannounced.

She headed into the kitchen and packed up some ham and cheese sandwiches for them, a couple cokes, and some chips in a little cooler. He pecked her on the cheek as he headed to the back porch to pull together the fishing gear. She smiled and watched him disappear through the door, then opened the cabinet door. She pulled out two oatmeal cream pies and slipped them into the cooler.

He walked back in from the porch. He carried two poles, two collapsible chairs, and a tackle box. Atop his already capped head sat her floppy hat.

She turned and looked at him. “Ain’t you a sight!” She giggled as she pecked him on the lips. She picked her hat up off his head and set it down on the counter. “Ready to go?”

He winked at her as he headed out the door. She followed behind, locking up. They loaded up his little white Chevette, then climbed inside.

They drove off across the mountain to his favorite fishing hole. It was a wide spot in a cool mountain stream off a back country dirt road. Oaks and poplar lined the stream which curved across the landscape and small wildflowers dotted the grass where they parked the car.

He picked it because she thought it was pretty; not because of the fish. They set up their spot and cast their lines. It was a beautiful afternoon with blue skies and white puffy clouds.

She looked up and named the shapes she found in the sky. He loved her imagination, and took her by her free hand, just to hold it for a bit.

She looked over at him. They had lived a full life together, and she couldn’t imagine life any other way. It wasn’t always an easy life, but it was a good life. Nine children, fifteen grandchildren, and lots of family always surrounded them. But afternoons like this are what she really treasured.

It didn’t matter how many trout they caught, but they always came home with a few. It was dinner for Sunday after all! What really mattered was the time they spent together, loving each other for just being.


Inspired by my grandparents; great role models for how to give, forgive, and build love. We should all be so lucky!

writing

Destination – Part 1

She pulled up to his place, nervous, with a small bag in hand. She’d never taken over control before, but she had it all carefully planned.

She climbed up the steps and knocked on his door. He was expecting her at least. He answered, still dressed in pajama pants and no shirt. She let out a sigh, she loved that look on him. He put his hand on his hip and smirked. “Like what you see?”

She blushed, then pushed her way through. “Yeah, yeah, enough of your modeling.” She made light of the moment, then she turned. “Here, put this on.”

He looked in the bag and scrunched up his nose as he tried to figure out what this meant. “I’ll freeze to death in that!”

She smiled. “Just do it. You can put warmer clothes on top!” She had crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her upper arm.

He wandered down the hall, shaking his head, wondering what she was up to.

“Do you trust me?” she hollered after him as he walked away.

“No.” he flatly answered in his jokingly dead pan voice.

Moments later, he came back out, fully dressed. She pulled at the waistband of his jeans and looked. “Good, you really have them on.” Then she smiled sweetly. “Ready to go?”

“Go where?” he questioned. “What are we doing?”

“Don’t you no never mind! I took care of everything, even your Mom knows where you’ll be and don’t worry about work!”

He raised his eyebrow. How would work be involved, and why would his mom need to know. “But, what? Where are we…”

She interrupted him. “Do you trust me?” She looked at him with innocent eyes, but a devilish grin. “Come on.” She motioned to the door and took his hand.

The cold air outside was bone-chilling. He really didn’t like to be out in weather where layers and scarves were needed, but he still didn’t understand why she’d have him put that underlayer of what looked like a bathing suit and beach top on in this weather.

At least she had left the car running so it was nice and toasty when they got in. They both climbed in. “Want to go on an adventure?”

His lips curled. He knew she was up to something, but adventures with her were always fun at least. He shook his head as she pulled out and drove away.

A short while later, she pulled the car into the remote parking area at the airport. He figured they were going somewhere, but where? For how long?

After making it through security, he looked at her. Then she turned to him with a black scarf in her hand. “Here. Put this on. Make it comfortable, but you can’t peek.” She shook her finger at him.

“I’m going to look quite funny stumbling through the airport with this on,” he protested.

She laughed. “Do you trust me?”

He shot her a glance and smiled, but his voice quivered a bit. “Sure.” He donned the blindfold and she took him by the arm, guiding him to their gate to wait for the plane. She purposely sat at the wrong gate and then handed him noise cancelling headphones. He chuckled. “What, afraid I’ll hear something?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, something like that. Put them on.”

“Wow, getting a little bossy there lady. You sure you want to do that?”

She leaned in and sultrily whispered , “I know you like it when I do.”

His face lit up and blushed a little bit, then he put on the headphones. She had connected them to his phone so he could enjoy some music while they waited.

She spied that the gate staff arrived and made her way to the gate. She explained her plan and they agreed to let them board first so she could surprise him after they were on the plane with the destination. She walked back over to him while the inbound plane unloaded. Everyone was tanned, wearing tropical clothing, and in for a shock of the cold environment they were coming back too.

She thought to herself, that will be us in a week, and smiled. The gate staff finally waved to her so they could board early.

She bent down and pulled his headphones “Okay, they’re ready for us!” She guided him to the gate and scanned the electronic boarding passes, then led him to their seats.

“Oof! Cushy seats!” he exclaimed as he settled in. “Are we in first class? Do I smell coconut?”

She giggled as she sat down. “Okay, put these on again.” She handed him the headphones. “I’ll tell you where we’re going after we pull away from the gate.” There’d be no escaping at that point, she thought to herself.

She smiled. She was pleased she’d made it this far with out entirely spilling the beans. Hopefully he’ll be just as happy when he finds out where they are going.

writing

Fall Like Conditions

A cool breeze tousled her short brown hair. A smile came across her face like the fresh air from the change of scenery. Soon, fall would arrive. It was her favorite season. She had escaped the sweltering heat of summer for this break, knowing it would only last a week, and then it would be a while until she could enjoy the crisp weather back home.

Some of the aspen and maple leaves were already changing out West. She hadn’t seen true seasons in ages, but the sprinkling of golds and bright reds reminded her of Autumn’s beauty. She inhaled the smell of pine, another reminder of the coming changes.

Evenings, a fire pit beckoned her to approach and warm herself in the twilight. She donned her father’s thermal; her mother gave it to her over a decade ago. It was her favorite way to stay warm on cool evenings and perfect for the weather that evening. She took a seat in one of the Adirondack chairs and rested her feet on the edge of the fire pit.

A nearby aspen’s leaves shimmered and quaked by the firelight, mesmerizing her for a while. A memory of youth, cable knit sweaters in fall colors and jeans, passed through her mind. She liked the cooler weather; the clothing helped to hide her flaws and calmed her. It was a time she felt more confident, more flirty and free. Her smile widened; she wished she could capture those feelings in a bottle and tap them at any time.

Slowly the chill set in and it became time to seek out a warmer spot. She headed back to the cabin, leaving the curtain open to keep watching the scene outside, while bundled up next to a fire and warmer surroundings inside. She’d like to spend more time in these surroundings and enjoy more of the fall-like weather. Maybe one day she will.

writing

One of Those Days

Disheveled. Her shirt soaked through

From a Sprite Zero shower at lunch,

fizz went everywhere.

Her glasses, precariously perched

atop her messed up hair.

From her left big toe, her shoe dangled

Moving as she shook her foot.

The right foot firmly on the ground, bare,

That shoe rolled over, upside down but close by.

Absentmindedly, she played with her pen,

Drumming and clicking it, as she tried to

Focus on the task at hand.

Voices around, constantly on phones.

Too much chatter distracts.

She misses her headset, left at home,

Among the piles of paperwork and junk.

Right now, she’s a mess, tired,

Unsettled, needing some permanent change.

One day, she’ll get it all straight…

She’ll have another moment, she knows.

It’s getting to be that time again.

writing

Dimmed….

Ever get that feeling that nothing is flowing, nothing can come out of your mind? All creativity is trapped in your brain and the only bits that come out do not make much sense?

I thought it was all because I was exhausted, working too much at my paying job over the past few months. So, I took a break from that and it helped a few days. But I’ve back at my normal load again, and the block is back.

Exhaustion set back in and I know it is all mental. I look over things I put together in the past and see the sources of my inspiration, but now I’m trying to find just a glimmer of that, a small spark to start me on my way again. It escapes me, like trying to hold onto time.

Thanks for continuing to read what comes out of this brain. I’ll keep working on it; hopefully that spark will be back soon.

travel, writing

Iceland

Let’s flee far away to Iceland,

Just you and me.

Let’s hideaway from the world,

Let’s go play.

Let us soak in the hot springs,

You’d like that, right?

And hike and journey around

Both in the day and night.

I bet the stars are amazing,

So far away,

I would love to see them in your eyes,

Even for just a day.

A land of a thousand dreams, ice and

Fields of green.

Let’s make a plan for you and me

To get there some day.

writing

Grounded

Pulling on my soul, wondering where it wants me to go.

This life is not my own; voluntarily shared with another;

A third pull, still not my own, but owed for giving me life.

Chained here, unable to move, unable to fly free.

Obligations are good and necessary.

Responsibility makes us feel needed.

But still, to soar away,

finding life anew,

It calls to me.

One day, I will answer that call.

writing

Dark

Drip, drip, drip. The last drop of blood falls to the floor, splashing in the puddle it made below. The heart stops and hardens, darker than the darkest coal on earth, harder than it was in life. The chest collapses; the last breath of air wheezing. It sinks in, adding pressure to that cold, dark heart.

The pressure grows the longer it goes. All of the light which once was there collapses inward. The heart compresses more as time and the world takes its toll. Lost forever, or so it seems. Time is forgotten. Lives buried over and over. Eons pass.

Then one day, shaking of the ground, and shattering of the rocks covering this age, comes to the land. Explosions spew forth, releasing dirt and rubble into the air. Sparkling light emerges, dancing in the destruction left behind. There we find the diamond in the rough.


A little something different for me. What do you think?