A New Day: February 2013

Monday, February 25, 2013

storm

holding on.
holding on..
holding on...

hold on
the storm's not over yet
you have to hold on to faith
that it won't last forever
hold on

Thursday, February 21, 2013

leftovers

Breathe

Slow

that thumping heartbeat

Release

those squeezed shut fists

Bestill

my raging anger.

Breathe...

let Go

the Child is found

but,

an unforgiving Look

and Sullen silence

equal Groceries abandoned

at the store today

Let go...

Breathe

let go

and live this mantra...

internal peace op-

timistic understanding

and mother's moments

This too shall pass...

I guess

that's why Moms freeze leftovers -

for this tomorrow...

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

love

Love
so sweet
as it fills a heart
overflows a life
yet always finds room
for yet another moment
to cherish anew
amour
♥

Source: Uploaded by user via Mary on Pinterest

Monday, February 11, 2013

touch

a slip of blanket

over fairy dust skin

covers yesterday's bones

memories

and how your hand felt in mine

before time

stole youth

and left only

your thin fingers

curled around my wrist

so happy to have human touch again

Hmm, if I recall correctly Stranger & Me have a little MFM alphabet game going on and are around about the letter "T". Well, that makes this poem fit then, I believe. I give you "touch" inspired by a visit to my Grandmother's.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Snow Day

Maple Syrup Love

Snow

bringer of sloppy roads

cheering children

and

a Canadian breakfast

like no other

Doesn't bother me none

I slip on snow pants

Grab the shovel

for the snow removal

and start slogging

for my daily Canuck-style exercises

Don't feel bad for me though

After a brief respite

in a snow bank

I dug back in

to create a cozy cave

Big enough for 2 lovelies

or one big kid

intent

on enjoying the best

that Canadian winter

has to offer

Monday, February 4, 2013

A Canadian Dare

Shrieks and laughter fill the air. Children run screaming past one another without a care in the world. Backpacks are scattered on the ground, forgotten until the bell's call to summon them back. It's that magical time between the weekend and the official start to the school week. The kids take full advantage of these last precious moments and run for all they are worth.

Newly fallen snow makes a perfect home for tumbling bodies to fling themselves with abandon down the waiting hill. Pencils will soon be clutched in stubborn fingers, but right now it is all about the best that winter has to offer - snow; light and fluffy snow.

"I dare you!" rings out a voice.

Why is it that boys cannot resist a dare? How is it that manhood rears it's ugly head on the grounds of the primary school yard so early? And yet it does. And every year this ritual gets repeated on school yards across the northern hemisphere.

"I double-dog dare you!" Things are getting serious.

More shrieks fill the air, but the peal of the morning bell cuts playtime short for these youngsters. It is time for school to begin.

Another cry fills the air. This one is a little more distressed; a little less happy in tone. And that is when a woman's stricken face streaks past shouting for help. Her arm points backwards towards a few lone figures still standing by the fence at the bottom of the hill.

The metal fence.

At least the boy wasn't left alone to attempt to rip his tongue off the frozen fence. Nothing that a little warm water won't solve, but terror is not the way to start the week off for any young soul. I suppose he won't do that again. The watching parents that slowly wander away shake their heads at the morning's antics. The boy has been freed. No harm has been done. But his moment of captivity, with soft, fleshy tongue stuck to a rusty metal pole in the dead of winter has been enough to shoot all these laughing adults back in time to when they too stood stuck to their own poles in a Canadian winter.

As who can resist the deadly triple-dog dare.