Saudade, the melancholia remains
after someone is gone.
Causing a sonorous emptiness,
melding emotions that overflow,
Ever mindful of your voice,
your smile,
Your warm embrace.
I long for what cannot be.
Yet am content in what was.
Tag: Art
Life ~ with ice cream
We celebrated our 45th Wedding Anniversary yesterday.
With ice cream. Hot fudge brownie sundaes. Two of them.
We joke as usual, we aren’t ready to share, yet.
But we bought the same flavour. Perhaps that’s the secret of 45 years and beyond.
“All that is not eternal is eternally out of date.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
I thank God for ice cream ❤️
The Sad Song ~ sung softly
Softly we sing
The sad song
Of lost love
And fickle fates
Waiting to reach
That fair city
In our minds
Although some say
They have been
Show us proof
We can believe
And welcome peace.
Burnt toast dreams~ 🍞
Sometimes life is filled
With the acrid smell of burnt toast dreams
Unpalatable to most
Yet occasionally there is one
Who will take a knife
Scraping away the blackened ugliness
Salvaging that bit of goodness that
Others miss.
Life is hard- then we drop a stitch
Sometimes it seems life is nothing but hard.
We battle our way,
Not always bravely~ through the days,
No end to issues that fray our mind.
Crippled, diminished, overwhelmingly maligned.
Like knitting, unraveling as we’ve dropped a stitch,
So easy to toss, refusing to admit~ defeat.
Sagely we just keep following the pattern,
Hoping it looks like the gift to others we envisioned
when we picked it.
Vcl©️
Released ~ free verse it is.
Released
I languished in a sea of untamed thoughts
I am powerless to reign
the tempest within
Some say that there are no new stars
But I have never been this way before
Thus my story keens
As an infant born in the bowels of a boat
I seek stormy release
Fearful of the deep
As the word winds sweep
My words land disheveled
In a heap, released safely to shore
Vulnerable but with relief.
Picture credit: Horacio Cardozo
The Tree October 5 2014 Writing Challenge
The tree was gone
Roots and all
My asylum
My space
Where the proud maple stood
Now vacant
I turned my face
To the sun
No longer protected
By branches and broad leaves
Wings clipped
The swing lay abandoned
Forever.
June 01 2014 PROMISING
We Cannot Change. January 28 2014
We cannot change the world.
We grow old before we realize that the world changes us
into beings who are sad but glad to leave.
Nothing is permanent here.
We cannot promise a better world
To the young who watch us grow old, broken,
Unable to change.
They have yet to realize
They cannot change the world
Silently I Creep January 2014
Silently I creep
Down the crowded corridors of my mind,
Tentatively toying with the doorknobs
of rooms containing suppressed memories.
I hear them
Like an overbooked hotel, whispering
Eager to crowd the hallways
In hopes of recognition and validation.
Restlessly I slumber
Unwilling to commit, I strain to decipher
Reluctant to open a door recalling
Malaise, despair or buried pain
The alarm sounds
Silently I face the clock, the murmurs fade
I throw back the covers,
Relieved that choice is gone.
Art: Anthony Gromley
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