Rows upon rows, green leaves of three,
The tick tick tick of sprinklers quench their thirst.
Full sun feeds them as does the sandy dirt below.
A white clapboard home sits along side,
A welcoming wrap around porch awaits.
A pair of rockers sway a bit as
The lace sheers flutter in and out.
The open windows invite the breeze.
From inside, she sips her tea,
Happy in this dream she’s built.
Strawberry fields bring her peace.
Rich earth and gritty sand,
Swirled together to make the land,
Quick to drain, moisture holds,
Roots dive deep, grow bold.
Leaves of three, flowers of white,
Stalks green and bright.
May your berries be oh so sweet,
Florida perfect winter treat.
The page on the calendar turns,
The scene shifts from summery delights.
Shelves loaded with pumpkin and spice
Greet frenzied shoppers thirsty for relief.
Finally, heat gives way just enough
Giving just a glimpse of drier cooler air.
Inspired to decorate overcomes,
Leaves, gourds, and acorns are bountiful.
Funny how a cooler season makes us warm up;
Bring on sleeves and more! Ber! Is Here!
I’m the evil one in someone’s story. The other one they blame. Life is rushed, time is precious, quick answers are not meant to be “short.”
They held it in, never asking for clarification, perhaps not wanting to understand. Not realizing how highly in regard they were held.
Instead, they lash out at the end, citing events they never discussed. Never wanting the details, only focused on themselves. Not understanding the tears, confusion, and anxiety they caused me at the end.
I feel betrayed. I feel so misunderstood. A simple conversation would have eased the issues which they cited.
But above this, I feel sad. Someone in this world needs me to be the evil one in their story. I never want to be in this place, but I will carry it for them and wish them well as they move on. And hope they find what they need.
The vine curled,stretched, reaching to the sky.
Drawn by sunlight, uplifted by its rays.
Another tendril from a nearby growth swooned.
It hoped to follow the others lead, leaning in.
Gently, it looped around, making itself known.
Her purple flowers intrigued his leafiness.
Together, they played in the morning sun.
As the heat of the day came on, they faded
But yet they stayed entwined, knowing.
In the coolness of the evening, they danced
Under the stars in the soft breeze.
Then slipped into slumber, waiting.
Tomorrow the sun will come again,
They will grow taller once again,
Twirl about, and entwine ever more.
Sweet little town, westward pointing.
Passage to and from Ka’anapali
On each island exploration.
Devastation swept the mountainside,
All the way to the shore, destruction took hold.
Gentle sweet blossoms, ripped by the wind,
Flames taking over, frightening fast,
No time to stop or escape the fire’s force.
So many lost in the unstoppable blaze.
But some bright spots amid such heartache
Precious cacao trees, surviving the burn,
Thanks to an engineered wind break…
Could this be a solve for the future?
Scared little lives, puppies and kittens,
Finding their way out or hiding safe,
Now safe and sound, returned.
The land will recover, the town rebuild,
But for now, mourning the lost comes.
Be Strong Maui; Be Strong Lahaina.
Soon your blossoms will bloom again.
Like a hot knife through butter,
The oiled wheel spun.
Threads of fabric gave up,
Yielding to the sharp.
No longer tearing or ripping,
The slices now clean.
Amazing how much easier it is
With a fresh blade.
It’s the little joys in life while sewing on a hot summer’s day.
As the sun sets down, up comes a chill
The cold creeps through this house at will.
Night brings the dark, distant noises echo.
Once familiar things become foreign.
Curl into ourselves, blanket in hand,
As quiet befalls the surrounding land.
Rest weary heads on makeshift pillows,
Made of other’s arms, jackets, and such.
Morning will still come, no stopping it.
Let’s hope we make it through to see it.
This is a big milestone.
Or so they say… They who?
What do they know?
How are you always behind?
So I send a snarky wish across the wire.
For some reason, it makes me smile.
Miles may separate us, as do our lives,
But yet we find ways to check in
Keeping the line alive.
Yeah, I know, I’m still older…
Glad it gives you solace.
Enjoy it while you can;
One day, you’ll catch up!
I could never be a lawyer.
Legal writings drive me batty.
Agreements, amendments, terms,
all seemingly made up on the fly.
Everything needs to be defined.
Statements conflict with others,
Right in the same document,
Right in the next paragraph.
Incorrect facts, can’t say lies,
But an unawareness of reality.
An understanding of how things work.
I’m no lawyer, but goodness,
That might be a good thing.
Do you go with the letter,
The intent or the spirit?
No wonder laws are chaos.
How does anything get done?
Dawn Renee Writes 