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


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.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails