poetry, writing

Getaway

The keys are calling to me,

Beckoning me with turquoise waves.

Ripples and splashes upon the shore,

Multi-colored shells tumble in the wake.

I am longing for a day I can drift away,

Float above the reefs and watch little fish.

Then sit on the shore in the evening breeze,

Appreciate the heat on my shoulders,

As the sun slips down below the horizon.

Dreaming of a getaway months away,

I’m ready for it to be here today.

writing

Never Ceasing

Circling, circling, folding in on itself.

Unable to work free from the solitary point.

Gripping tighter and tighter to any thread,

When letting go is what should be done.

Nothing more to do now,

What is done is done.

Free yourself and find some rest.

Spinning, spinning starts again.

Why can’t you just let it go?


Dedicated to all the over-thinkers losing sleep out there. Hope we find a way to escape from a never ceasing mind.

writing

Take Flight

From the chrysalis, she dangles

Her newly formed wings still damp.

She ponders where the winds will take her,

Once she can finally take flight.

Inching along in life

Left her starved for adventure.

Soon the flowers will come quick,

No longer an arduous trip.

Spread your wings, lift up, fly high.

Find the brightest blossom,

Take it all in and enjoy life.

writing

Table for One

She sat alone in the corner booth, stirring sweetener into her iced tea. Her appointment was just over an hour away, so she had time for lunch. She settled in for a quiet meal.

A group of women trailed in through the cafe door. They were dressed to the nines in sundresses and floppy hats. It became obvious they were a group of women who partook in leisurely lunches often. She smiled at the women as they were seated, then turned back to her notepad.

The waitress greeted the group as they laughed and shared stories. Flamboyance and grace, giggles and jeers filled the once quiet cafe.

The lone girl felt the occasional stare from the table. She’d occasionally look up and catch someone snapping their heads back. She’d just grimace and look back down.

The ladies looked her over like she just didn’t belong. She felt their eyes on her. It hurt, though no ill words were exchanged. She tried to ignore them, and remained gracious to the waitstaff as they brought her lunch and refreshed her tea.

She chided herself, don’t assume what you don’t know. She often grew self conscious in similar situations most of her life. She knew she was an outsider, an observing introvert.

She finished her lunch. Part of her wanted to just pay and run out of the building to escape further scrutiny. But, her appointment wasn’t for another 30 minutes and she would feel just as awkward sitting in her car, especially with today’s heat.

Slowly, the women shifted their attention back to themselves and their food as it was delivered. She felt the mood lighten, the weight lifting from her mind as she no longer was glared over.

She re-centered herself, payed her bill and finished the notes for her meeting. The minutes passed until it was time to leave. She finally escaped, unnoticed by the crowd.

writing

Notable Rain

What notable things happened today?

It rained today. Probably not the most notable thing for the day in the whole world, but it mattered. The rains were gentle and light then loud and thunderous. It was the kind of rain which came in waves, the kind that changes from moment to moment like that of an uncertain life.

The day had been gray from sun up, but it was not clear if the rains would make it. The grass, the trees, the plants wept with joy now that they had water to drink. The lake surface danced with each pelting drop.

Chauncey watched lazily through the rain splattered window from his make-shift throne upon the pillow tops. No birds to chitter after now, just reeds and branches blowing in the wind to entertain him. Sleep came easily to him in this kind of weather.

Sister watched from the bed, wishing her cuddle partner would give her a nuzzle. Things still weren’t right between them, but at least the hissy fits subsided. She stretched her tiny paws out and took up as much space as she could on the king bed.

It rained today. Most notable for the cats.

writing

Bending Light

A single ray streams in, too strong to be stopped.

The light must go somewhere, so it bends.

Reflecting, shifting, separated into smaller streams.

Bringing color to the silhouetted world,

Often veiled in only black and white.

Cherish the differences, for we all are unique.

Fighting against a single narrow mold.

Bringing light to the darkness.

Bringing hope to us all.

Enjoy the rainbow!

writing

Turning Point

It hasn’t been calm since the vet,

Hissing and turning cold, brother and sister rivalry.

Finally, the angst between them subsided.

Something caught their attention,

They chittered at the window.

A different bird sound came from outside.

A lone whistling duck stood, wanting a friend.

He looked at the window and paused.

He didn’t want friends with claws.

Soon landed another, echoing back.

They danced a moment then off they waddled.

Brother sighed and settled back down,

While sister huffed and left.

Hopefully calm has returned,

All thanks to two lonely ducks.

writing

June Time Memories

The joys of summer as a teen flew.

Heat rose from her shoulders, touched by the June sun.

They smelled smoky, but not like cigarettes,

More like the scent of a candle’s flame, or that of a dying campfire,

Mingled with the freshness of coconut and plumeria kisses.

The white streak from her suit left its mark,

As her freckled tan deepened with each summer day.

Swimming, tanning, finding ways to the beach.

Family vacations to the mountains, playing in streams, wandering dirt roads, and skipping rocks.

Such good memories, such sweet memories, of June.

writing

Paradise Magic

She stepped off the plane in her tropical print pants and black top. The weather was drier than she expected despite the rain. She had lined up a lei greeting for them and expected magic to start to unfold.

The leis they received were beautiful, but the greeting was far from Fhloston Paradise. Her heart sunk a little. But she was tired after the cross country plus cross ocean flights. Maybe tomorrow would reveal the true beauty of the island.

Their accommodations were beautiful. The resort was well manicured with all things tropical. The ocean was in view from their balcony. Many mornings however came slow, her eyes often open at 3:30 am with no sleep in sight.

Perhaps it was exhaustion, but the next few days were a blur of sleep and food and sites, but still no spark of excitement. It was vacation, perhaps her mind and body needed more of a break than she thought.

There were highlights and fun times at a luau, driving the Road to Hana, even touring a ranch on ATVs, however inspiration escaped her. She forced herself to write in a journal, but instead of spinning delightful ditties about adventures, it became lists and rundowns of each day.

It wasn’t until the very last day that something magical would actually happen.

They walked in to a little cafe tucked into an office building for lunch. The menu was limited but they only wanted a lite bite as they were headed out on a flight later in the evening. It seemed to be another basic experience, but that had become the norm.

As they placed their order, in the background, a group of older folks started strumming on ukeleles and singing old timey Hawaiian songs. It easily could have become cheesy, but they decided to stay and hear the music at the owner’s encouragement. After they settled in, two young women came in to also order lunch.

The owner started gushing over the women. Turned out one of them was a local pageant contestant. The girls finished placing their order then the owner talked them into joining the group in the back.

The music quieted as the elders and the young people talked. A few minutes later, the two women stood in front of the musicians and struck a pose to start dancing the hula. The musicians began to play.

She got a chill as she turned to watch. The gentle movements of the girls complemented the music. The spontaneity of the moment filled the cafe. She felt as if she were peering in on a secret being revealed.

The dancers and musicians wove an enchanting story in those moments. The strumming was rhythmic. The smiles of the troupe became infectious as the performance peaked. The hula was entrancing.

Paradise’s magic was found in that little cafe that final afternoon. She finally felt her trip was complete.

writing

On The Attack

No, that rainbow painted truck is not an attack on you. That Pride Parade is not telling you to change your family structure or personal beliefs. No, that gay man won’t make your son gay.

No, having a gay character represented in a movie is not indoctrination. If it is, so is having a heterosexual character. Maybe we should eliminate it all for anyone under 16. Do we really need to become asexual in all things? Oh, and they’ll learn about it all in other less reliable ways.

If a child insists on saying he is a she, or she is a he, or they in either case, it is not the place of the state to dictate and force the issue…this is a parental decision on how to approach this and work with their teachers and their child. P. S. See how easy it is to use gender neutral pronouns?

If you need to use God and religion (Christianity specific) to justify your belief that you can dictate how others should act and be, you kind of missed a whole section of the teachings.

Religion is a personal choice, not to be used as legal justification to impose beliefs on others. If you don’t want Sharia law; you shouldn’t want Christian law or Jewish law, or any religious based law.

Calm your jets, stop the attacks. Your -isms are showing. Your way of life is not under a microscope. That rainbow painted truck is not an attack on your beliefs.