Tag: writing

poetry, writing

Small Wins

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

We couldn’t find the right boxes;

They’re somewhere in the disaster

That we call the bottomless pit, er, garage.

Finally, I relented and gave up,

Wrapped the silver ornaments

And stored them into a different box.

I know I’ll never find them again.

But it’s a small win, so I’ll take it.

Now the last of Christmas is finally away.

Which means Spring has sprung early….

I really love putting out my bunnies.

Even if the day of love has not yet passed.

Besides it’s already in the 80s today,

And strawberries are ripening on the vine.

Yes, yes, it’s time for springtime.

1
writing

Adventure Starved

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

From the depths of the sea floor,

To high above the peaks in the sky,

Starving to see it all;

From the arid deserts to the rain forests,

And sunny beaches to shady mountains,

There is just so much to see.

Historical places with significant meaning,

To rarely seen nature deep in the jungles,

No place is really the same as another.

No wonder world travelers scour the earth,

Looking for their next adventure

Then making the rest of us drool like fools.

1
poetry, writing
Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Waves lapping against the bridge;

Blue skies dotted with clouds;

The alarm sounds and gates fall;

Slowly the creaky grates rise

All for a tiny sailboat with a tall mast.

Put the car in park, lower the windows

And open the sunroof fully

Letting the salt air in while waiting.

Peer through dark sunglasses

Over the smooth glistening water.

Perhaps a dolphin or two will swim by.

Gulls and pelicans dip for snacks,

While we wait a little while longer.

Finally the groan of the lowering bridge,

And a jiggle of the span below.

It’s time to finally cross over

To the island and beach just beyond.

One of these weekends, I’ll get back home to enjoy this. It’s been too long and I miss feeling the soft sand between my toes and seeing the sparkling clear water. Just me, the sunrise, surrounded by coastal beauty.

1
poetry, writing

French Delight

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Crusty, crunchy, flakes go flying.

The tender buttery layers give way,

But the crisp outer shell snaps away.

A smooth chocolaty center tickles the tongue;

Appreciate the hours it requires to make

Each of the fifty five layers it takes

To make the delightful pain au chocolat.

1
writing

Chaos

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Anxiety starts to set in, nervousness too.

This is what happens when avoiding meds.

But stomach issues and other concerns interfere;

Nothing has been right for weeks on end.

Find your calm, return to center.

Resume your meds, and remember…

Breathe.

Time to get back to handling the basics,

Walking, writing, and cleaning if you have to.

Something is needed to take the edge off.

Sleep is fleeting and napping is not enough;

Dark circles and exhaustion show on your face.

Time to silence yourself in meetings;

We can’t let our struggle show,

It needs to be kept in check.

It’s how we moved forward in the past;

Time is now to do it again.

1
writing

Third Degree Burns

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

This world is small, so, so small,

Everyday it shrinks in size.

But I don’t know how to handle

Three degrees of separation.

I know him. She knows you.

He knows her. It just can’t be.

Is the world really this tiny?

Have we known, gasp,

each other all along?

You know my darkest side,

The one I rarely share.

But now I’m worried;

Are you already in my world?

Should I stop all of it cold

Knowing no good from this will come.

But I’m already addicted;

The attraction is so strong.

Don’t be mad; I just don’t know;

How can I go on?

0
poetry, writing

Waiting to Bloom

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Pale stripped bones reach to the sky,

Bleached by the sun and starved for rain.

Winters’ cold blasted, pushing towards death,

But life still pumps in its inner most core.

Will spring revive, renew, and nourish,

Allowing for buds of green and pink to return,

Will the fragrance of life fill its arms once more?

1
writing

Brownstone- Part Four

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Melissa walked up to the three story brick building from the bank address given to her. It didn’t look like a bank. She pressed the buzzer.

A stern voice came over the p.a. “Do you have an appointment?”

Melissa was caught off guard. She stuttered, “I wasn’t aware I needed one.”

Silence greeted her for 30-seconds. Then the voice boomed, “Well? Who is it?”

“Melissa…Melissa Whitney. My cousin left…”

The speaker cut her off. “No accounts here with that name. Who sent you?”

Flustered, Melissa responded, “As I was about to say, my cousin Jane Millside left me directions to come here.”

Again silence. Melissa looked about anxiously, wondering if she was even in the right place.

“Okay. Come in,” the voice announced as the door buzzed and released. “Someone will be right with you.”

The voice seemed to soften as it trailed off.

Melissa stepped into the building onto a polished marble floor. As she looked around the foyer, she noted touches of ebony and gold inlay fashioned in the art deco style. She remembered how her cousin seemed to love that era, although it was decades before her time.

A stocky woman dressed in slacks and a loose fitting top hobbled toward Melissa. Her face, initially grimaced, turned to a smile upon seeing Melissa.

“Hi, Melissa. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Kathy, I knew your aunt,” Kathy almost oozed as she spoke.

“Nice to meet you,” Melissa shook her hand. “Jane was my cousin technically.”

Kathy just smiled back. “Okay, well, let me show you the way.”

Kathy led Melissa up a flight of red velvet covered stairs. On the landing sat two opposing desk of cherry wood. Beyond the desks were three vault doors.

Melissa thought to herself, what an odd place for a bank.

Kathy sat down at one desk and punched a few keys. “Come here Melissa. This is your console. I will be on the other machine.”

After Kathy stood up, Melissa took a seat and looked over the screen. A camera was pointed at her face ready to take a a photo, and the picture showed up looking back at her. She moved a lock of hair that hung across her forehead.

Kathy’s voice rang out, “Smile!”

Melissa pasted a smile on and the camera snapped. Then the screen turned black for a moment then displayed details about Jane’s accounts with the bank.

Melissa read over them, puzzled. “What is this list?”

Kathy sighed, “Oh dear, she didn’t get to tell you. Well, I guess I will have to show you.” Kathy abruptly stood up, almost toppling her chair over. She straightened her blouse, then waved to the third vault. “No time like the present!”

Kathy placed her hand on what looked to be a tablet, then had Melissa do the same. “There, I have transferred Jane’s accounts to you. You may enter when you are ready. Just spin the handle on the gear.”

Melissa felt like she was about to open the door to a prize on some tv game show as she cranked the gear. The thought What’s behind door number three? played in her mind. Finally the lock clicked loose and the door started to open. She hesitantly walked inside.

“You have the key, dear?” Kathy questioned from outside the vault.

Melissa shook her head then looked around the room to various lock boxes of differing sizes. She pulled the key up and realized there was a small inscription on it with the number 410.

The key seemed to guide her to a medium sized lockbox in the far corner of the room. She walked over and gently guided the key into the lock. The door opened and revealed another box inside.

“Go ahead, you can take it out and bring it from the vault,” Kathy beckoned.

The box was heavier than its size would predict. Melissa lugged the small box out and made her way to the desk.

As she stepped out, Kathy pushed the vault door closed and it made an echoing thud. “Don’t worry dear. We’ll put it back when you are done. I am going to give you some time to go through the contents. If you need me, just ring that little bell on the corner of the desk. I will be just downstairs.”

With that, Kathy left the second floor landing and Melissa was left alone to discover what Jane had left for her now.

4
writing

Nothing but Trouble

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

The ticking of the clock grows ever louder as darkness fills the room. Finally, the dimness gives way to a lonely desk lamp flickering in the night.

Keys are struck vigorously, seeking answers through tired, glazed eyes. Numbers and figures dance endlessly, but never reveal the truth behind them.

Pushing on, but growing weak, a weary head rests on an unsteady arm. Nodding off triggers a snap of the neck and a flutter of the eyes. Caffeine calls once more, so finally a break from the screen.

Searching the air for answers while the tea pot boils. Options and solutions roil and rattle through the brain. Finally a whistle returns to the moment, and a pour and a steep gives a break for five minutes more.

Fresher eyes resume their focus as the sips go down. No, it couldn’t be that simple. Was it there all along?

A quick stare out the window and the skies are starting to glow. Is the sun already returning once more? Back to the screen as a second wind kicks in. A handful more of keystrokes and cha-ching! It’s a win!

Finalizing the work goes quicker than that cup of tea. Now hopefully the sleep-starved can find their 💤.

3
poetry, writing

Changes

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Burning the midnight oil, their heads begin to bob,

Another late night install, but it’s their job.

Toiling and deploying, testing and such,

Why does a simple fix cost so much?

It keeps people employed and busy too,

One day, this is something automation will do.

Some of us can’t wait to focus on other pursuits;

While the rest will have to learn to wear new suits.

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