blogging a little of a lot
Do you wrap your shoulders in guilt?
Does it make you feel better?
Of course not.
You did what you did, but the moment has passed.
Perhaps it is regret that you are feeling.
Regret is better. It means you have taken that nugget,
examined it with neutral hands
and learned from it.
So, you wash your hands with compassionate soap
and remind yourself that you are not a fraud
but a human flawed
like everyone else.
Be brave and accept
being flawed only adds to your perfection.
I grow my flowers lovingly
I touch, their pedals sigh
from knowing of their task in life
–delight and mystify.
The rose, it’s thorns protective, pierce
a skin, naive of threat
but once a droplet, red, descends
the memory’s inset
As the milkweed draws the monarchs
quite stupefied am I
to learn a universe as this
creates to gratify.
Early artwork by CD-W (I guess because of its simplicity, it’s still one of my favorites)
No longer can I fill these shoes.
Yet I remember a time
when the patent leather formed neatly around my feet
soft, worn, comfortable
Soles carefree and made of ease
durable for playing chase and hide and seek
or freeze tag in the dark
the lining soft enough for catching fireflies
and my parents goodnight kisses
The tips firm, protecting toes that so easily stumbled.
The heels perfectly made for scuffling
for dragging my feet when it suited
Shoes, easy to pull off for bedtime stories
and tuck-me-in time.
No longer do they fit, those shoes
Yet, it matters not.
I have merely grown into a larger size
the soul intact.
art by C. Dennis-Willingham
So much did she love her wee Sammy Crockett
she kept him tucked safely inside her shirt pocket.
He didn’t much mind the prospect at first
he never was hungry, nor parched from a thirst.
The lining was soft, the fabrics in style
He seemed satisfied, at least for a while.
But the day she took him on a long morning stroll
he started to feel like a con on parole.
He yelled from her pocket, “Enough is enough!
“Yes, I HEAR plenty, but I want to SEE stuff!”
Like bands playing songs, leaves blowing off trees,
a man at a circus atop a trapeze,
the people at market buying their wares,
the making of popcorn at our county fairs!”
Well, she loved him so much she planned to devise
something he’d like that would fit his wee size.
She built him a house from a splendid, smooth boulder
and attached the small building to the top of her shoulder.
She filled it with pillows, a couch and plush chairs
and cut out some windows to give him fresh air.
“Look dear,” she said as they ventured to town,
“The queen has arrived with her shiny jeweled crown!
She continued to talk as she traipsed over ground
But her husband said nothing, no peep nor a sound.
She turned to the silence, looked in the wee house
and there, snoring deeply, lay Crockett, her spouse.
The townsfolk could hear as she said without doubt,
“He seemed to forget that he yearned to look out!”
She carted him home, placed the house on a shelf
and decided to do something fun for herself.
first image- 123rf.com
second image: youtube.com “Walk cycle-the proud naked old lady”
If you can’t get back on the horse
– -well, you can, of course
If you can’t find your way home
you’re not alone
If you can’t lead the horse to water
then, dear granddaughter,
forget about the nag.
‘Cause if you can’t get to the cookie,
eat through the bag!“
and if you bite off more than you can chew
don’t worry, you’ll pull through
Let sleeping dogs lie
and you’ll be fine
‘Cause your guess is as good as mine.
Our mind is but a prayer
of hopes and seasoned dreams
a requiem of buoyant thoughts
afloat on anxious streams.
A life held fast on anchored boat
a bowline knot embraced
to keep our thoughts a litany
of divine and endless grace
On a scale from from one to ten
where do you fit in?
On a scale from high to low
which direction do you go?
On a scale from left to right
undisturbed or too uptight?
On a scale from A to G
what matters is the harmony
Whatever range in which we fall
Quite the keyboard are we all!
Weekly photo challenge: SCALE
You accept not your true self
You stepped, instead
into an guise
and bathed your limbs in bravado
the musky soap of self-deception
Don’t you know
you’re soaked in a false promise
to yourself, unrecognized?
Why shroud yourself in darkness,
within a cloud
of crystalized ice?
Do you not believe in yourself?
Are you afraid of the shadows?
Don’t you know
you’re cloak, soaked in fear
keeps you from paradise?
Shed that tattered, muscled cloak
It never truly keeps you warm.
There is no storm.
photo page source
daily prompt: Cloaked
I’m a full-fledged non-hater
Evil, I’ve fought
A fine moderator
(except when I’m not)
Profound is my mind
It keeps trains of thought
I’m a woman refined
(except when I’m not)
I’m a top-notch debater
find every weak spot
A master creator
(except when I’m not)
I’m the queen idea lighter
weave interesting plots
I’m an excellent writer
(except when I’m not)
I am quick to recover
heal when I ought
I’m an exceptional lover
(except when I’m not)
I’m an fabulous teacher
all subjects I’ve taught
A perfect-made creature?
I accept I am not.
Accepting this non-exceptional self-portrait
Daily Word Prompt: Exceptional
