Weren't we partners in everything?
Didn't we talk, study and sing?
Weren't we innocent?
Weren't we kids?
Why aren't we so anymore?
Why each has a life?
Why each has a door?
Weren't we there together?
Weren't we enjoying spring and summer?
Why aren't we so today?
Why can't we have fun and play?
Why can't we share our talks and say?
Didn't you promise me to be my soul?
Didn't I feel shocked and suddenly fall?
Don't you remember... anything at all?
We aren't partners...
We aren't... at all!
Looking back the way I came,
there was really no one to blame
We bonded and became friends
Over months of happiness and refrain
enjoying our company which depended
On writing from your side or mine with a pen
Like a flower in spring, you stayed a season
Long enough to exchange reasons
For long awaited friendship through hard times
Without much encouragement except for rhymes
Claiming visions of poetry and grace
out the door you flew without a trace
You didn’t say goodbye , just ran off with some foreign guy
Attracted like a school girl to the first refrain
French is the language of love , so often proclaimed
With the lie on your lips you didn’t bother to explain
Writing makes u free you say , then why do I feel so sad
when I write of you from former days
Leaving nothing in return, You have come and gone
friendship only left memories
when there should have been songs
Still I’ll remember thru long winters nights
of happy talks , spring flowers and golden lights
Where you’ve gone I don’t know,
but memories will keep me thru December
When spring comes once again
I’ll plant a rose to keep me warm and remember
You should have seen this tree before the winter came
Before the sun broke faith with its suckling leaves
Before the heavy ice of time sagged its limbs
Before its roots were singe in a frigid flame.
Did you know HG Daniel then, did you walk with him
Through spring and hear him sing of his king
Did he teach you "the elements of survival," when Eden
Closed its gate on us did he tell you its lore
And make you long for earth's long lost heaven
Though he struggles "not a man as before"?
I knew this tree when spring was a leaf of tongue
And poets sip the nectar of imagination young
I read him in rhyme and works of tribute
To fair Barbara and other members of the soup
Before the strokes, his loss of wife, and the loop
Of pall upon his hand with which he paint his love.
He is a noble tree, a great one in our forest of rhymes
A brother in arms of faith, a comrade, a friend
I send him prayers today, and wait for yours to come
This tree still from autumn mist a few fruit holds
Of friendship, love, and loyalty to the babbling scrolls.
The days go by
as I walk around the man made lake,
churning the tides of time backwards
making butter from the gold and brown broth
a solitary wanderers on the same gravel path.
Always a person for whom the flow meant danger
from spring to summer, I walk the scene
with cheery “mornin’s”
popping the insular bubbles
of self imposed
The days go by
as spring returned to my aged step.
The flow lures the weary mind tired of treading water.
Glassine eyes cataract dimmed clear and lift to blue skies.
Familiar faces grin back hooked
on a cheery “mornin’”
Marshaled resources clockwise turn.
Forward thinking, right sided, occasion walks
from summer to fall
popping the insular bubbles
of self imposed
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
Each morning, for several years,
We’ve fed the squirrels and birds.
Oh, the fun we have watched
And the beautiful songs we've heard.
Families have started and grown.
Once two squirrels, now eight.
Cardinals, among many other birds,
Know feeding time….are never late.
Cardinals mate for life and prefer
A permanent nest to call their home.
And if food is readily available,
Even their young won’t roam.
So, now our trees are filled
With morning Cardinal song.
Our cats are old and fat.
All is good and life is long.
A bigger Cardinal, I call him Big Red,
Is first there every morning.
I think he’s the elder whose job it is
To sing out his ‘OKs’ or issue warnings.
He watches from the trees as I feed.
He used to hide, but no more.
He’s been coming closer lately,
I guess by now he thinks he knows the score.
This Spring morning was so ideal;
So, after feeding, it was coffee on the patio;
Watching all the critters nosh
As they come and go, come and go.
Quite suddenly, not even ten feet away,
The big Cardinal landed on the patio.
Surprised as could be, I was very still.
“Hey, Big Red.”, I said, sure that he would go.
He stood his ground, giving me the eye.
I could see his mate on the fence,
Watching so intently,
Probably wishing he would fly.
Slowly I lifted my cup in a toast.
“Cardinals rule.” I said quietly.
Then, something very special happened.
For a time, he sang....to me.
It made me very happy.
Under a tree of wet blossoms, shimmering to life in the sun, one honey bee is circling around two burly men, who wave it off, with childlike dramatics...arms flailing. One of them, wearing heavy leather boots, leaves his deep imprints in the grass, still wet from yesterday's storm. I wince, as the toe of his left boot squashes a purple pansy that is growing along the border. Oh dear, her prized flowers,....they are like her babies! She has always had the greenest, thumb..and the prettiest yard on the block!
a white blossom rush hour traffic... a crushed pansy
lands on her shoulder.... bees circle the tree still beautiful in my palm...
a goodbye gesture droning with noise lines in her face
Both men seem irritated, and anxious to get on the road, as they stand next to the giant truck, which is parked against the curb. The shorter man, nurtures a butt of a cigarette between gloved fingers with such intensity, it's as if he were sentenced to be hanged at noon, and this was a final puff. He inhales deeply, then, after a careless toss of the stub, they both climb aboard, into the cab, and squeeze their husky frames into the cab, like two coiled Slinkys , ready to spring into action. They start up the engine, and trails of cigarette smoke are left to mingle with cloud-white petals, that drift from the tree.
smoke spirals up from a spent cigarette...... truck coughs black exhaust
two nosy neighbors watch from dark windows.... crows gather on grapevine
The moving van,... a huge, battered dinosaur, wearing a big red proclamation, "TWO BROTHERS-VAN AND STORAGE",... looks so out of place, parked along my street. I begin to feel it vibrate the sidewalk and it deafens our ears. Slowly, it begins to roll, and we watch, as it lazily, lumbers down the familiar street. It turns the corner, and disappears out of sight. I lean over to grab her hand, and she is crying
and I find myself breaking the promise not to.
muddy truck tires....
follow from behind
I suppose it shouldn't matter to me now, but can't resist, and lean down to pick up the discarded, lifeless cigarette butt, and walk it over next door, to the trash can, that still waits for Thursday's pick-up. I blow my nose and dry my eyes. It won't help her, if she sees me fall apart.
I remember the day she moved in, over twenty years ago.
We were strangers then, ...but sisters we became.
Now it seems all those years are packaged up inside those cardboard boxes, wrapped in newsprint, taped shut, now moving on to another state, to somewhere I don't belong.
Her husband gently clears his throat, as he patiently waits by their car, giving her one last moment.
Her eyes glisten with tears. Mine sting too...but I had promised I wouldn't cry...so I am biting my bottom lip. A quick hug.. "Yes...we'll write...we'll visit...we'll call!
Soon! I promise,.........soon!"
She hands me a box of tulip bulbs. "These are the red ones... the ones you loved so much, something to remember me by."... I want to plant some in the new place, but have been saving some for you too"...
"Next year when they bloom, think of me, will you? A part of me to keep you company."
She walks to her packed car, turns once more with that familiar smile, the same little wave, that she gave me on that very first morning, as she stood at her mailbox. She jumps in next to her waiting husband. He starts the engine, and soon their car is heading down the street, that is no longer her street. Around the turn at the corner, that is no longer her corner
Tomorrow the SOLD sign comes down.
Perhaps a new wave, another smile, someone gathering mail ...will brighten my day.
But today, .....I will plant some tulips.
my garden awakes coffee brings comfort
from muddy slumber.... sipped from her favorite cup ...
lively red tulips my cat for company
For Deb's Contest: Spring haibun
Soy sauce drains
Into the white, clustered rice
spills . . .
Soy sauce taints
The whiteness of the grain
It slips out of my hands
No use...no point in crying out in rage
Though I was starving,
I'll just eat another thing and start on a new page
I'm hungry like a swine
I wish I can earn back my snack!
I'm as angry as a bull
I'm about ready to attack! Attack!
Soy sauce packages
Fall unto the dirty school ground
By bratty, conceited teens
They really need to eat their greens
Instead of junkfood and pizza
They should drink some water
Instead of drinking sugary drinks or
Sucking on popsicles obnoxiously
Why did the soy sauce spill? Seriously....
Play The Radio
Get Up And Dance All Night Long
Music Heals The Soul
I do not know?
Unknown to those with no curiosity
Buds, that dream of one day blooming
Being, more than they are
Touched by those who love
Protected by those who wish to love
Wishing to be more than they are
Buds, not truly knowing if they are ready for the world
Hoping they are strong enough
Wishing to be the best
You, Me, Us, Everyone
Effulgent sun proffers love
Above the undergrowth…of
Thorns and weeds
The moon unravels wonders
It’s spring, show me the green,
no not the flowers and trees, but
the turf of the sacred bowling
where the smell of wood and leather,
the jack no heavier than heather,
clicks its chattered, woody song,
to sparrows’ scarpered throng
let me taste and smell your sweet
ground’s mighty swell, as it’s pitch
and rise mirrors, beauty of the dell
and with this Spring’s weighty call
a million miles from nature’s fall,
comes the season of our glee,
friendship’s spine, and bowls
Winter's icy gray gives way
to a Spring time day
where the white and blue
of Sky is new.
We crack our eyes open
and crawl out of bed
thankful it's gone, ole Winter's dread.
Up and about
soon we're out
to see and smell
and give Spring a shout,
a happy "Hallelujah"
for new life abounds
over formerly brown, now green grounds.
the grasses and the trees
along with the buzzing of bees
as they help create
the most amazing flowers
while other creatures find a mate.
I don't blame them at all
for in you I've found
my mate, my partner
and in us Love can abound
with the Lord as our gardener.
For He alone planted us,
watered and fed us,
protected us and brought us
together in this walk of life.
When all the blooms
and the bees
its warmer, moist air
that tells us Summer is here.
We walk toes in sand
hand in hand
wanting ocean sprays
to counteract the Suns rays.
To sweat and burn
something in which we both have a turn
is what can make Summer
a sometimes bummer.
But, to walk and swim
we have to experience again and again.
For I'll never tire
of your Summer attire,
a sun dress
or a lot less
when we shower off
the sweaty sands
and keep touching each other with our hands.
O Summer, O Summer
how I love those long days
and how you show me all the ways
that your love for me heals
and my love for you still feels.
I want our walks
to feel like they'll last forever
as we hold hands and hug
we're being healed inside
during all these seasons of our life
along with God as our guide.
The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.
It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…
that beautiful frame of mind.
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.
I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.
This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!
But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…
Walk with me through this garden.
communication from above the air
random as it doesnt compare
the meet of peoples taste
so many exceptions, unknown where it leads
but a friend can call on formiddible times
can suprize and place you up there
on that higher ground
where we all belong
they can be the calling we need
the lift that stands
the love we crave
we all meet at random places
or odd situations
we have the best times
the moments we never forget
the memories we look back years later
and just smile
thankful we had the time
and wish we had all over
again and again
always repeat those days
the real deep and meaningfuls
for what time we may have these tresured lives
that we share
may not be for long
but id never let go of those times
they made me who i am
the path i walked on
i might not see them all the time
but i do think about them
how i smile from to ear to ear
money cant buy that
no one can replace that
so with age comes being wise.. at times
and its those days that we had
makes life abit easier to live
they keep us going
and we never forgot them
I spy, a feather beauty bright
With speckled blush on breast
Basking within the thicket light
Dancing round about her tiny branch
Your fluttering sight beholding
Within the snowy briar
Bathing among the warmth
Of the morning's golden glory
Its brilliance your own crown of halo
Like a sunburst that swallows
Up the end of February's sigh
As other feathers flusters zoom right by
The ginger little fellows all dappled, scramble
A merry-go-round within a flight
Threading joyous song throughout your bramble
As further flocks of scurry, hurry fly
On parade teasing wings of faerie sprites
A musical path of crisscross kites
But, you little one are the daring, bursting forth
With higher operatic songs, to startle and scold those spry
Feather beauty bravely
Upon your perch chest thrust out boldly
Nonsense rhymes and a new found might
Chase away the imps of finch and thrush
And keep yourself the sunbeams for its light
And bask yourself once more this time
Among the drops of melting dripping snow
And gather up all tis full
Feasting here, where the wild wild berries grow
But, in the end you are their kin
And soon, my fairy feathered friend you too must go
Out, onto twittering leafy stemmy stem and off...
Into the yonder of the coming spring to rove
The waters clear as I stand by the river
I see the reflection of someone long ago
As the storms come in I know I can't let you go.
Rain pours at times in this life you've given
But the shadows fade when my prayers have risen
Your love for me I've never new until now
When I see the waters clear, my reflection seems so near.
As time goes on I know you are near
Just seeing the way you help me stand
Just seeing the way you remove the fear
It helps my weakness seem so clear
That without you I am small
But as I take your hand, the walls get knocked down
The waters clear, the reflection I see now,
is you in me, this my Lord helps to make me free.
Written by://©Betty Bolden
I do not know?
My Madness, Me...
Confined by this straight-jacket,
strapped in, numb and dumbed,
a washed-out, has-been, also-ran,
body, eyes, the equilibrium of mind,
rattling like stones in an old tin-can.
Still, I am,
and I am unchained,
my dreams taking flight, soaring,
above these claustrophobic walls,
of synapses, and dungeons of stone,
swooping through green valleys,
taking a detour to savour the joys,
soaked in torrential, evergreen memories,
of a younger man, with passion in his bone.
My wings unclipped, unshackled, free,
I am, and though I am unable to see,
At long last,
I do not know?
Those Distant African Nights...
The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,
a cool breeze teasing your bare back,
streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,
as my hands stroked your hair,
kissing your soft mouth,
ever so tight.
You whispered that you loved me,
and I kept silent,
the rain fell,
the breeze teased your naked back,
you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,
the rain washed over our tender nights,
lightning and candlelight,
etching poems on your burnished skin,
a fear gnawed at me,
We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,
now, after numberless thunderstorms,
the rain that falls,
echo the countless tears that I have shed.
You are long gone,
happy, I pray,
yet the memories persist,
those precious moments shall never,
like the Jo'burg rains,
and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,
for it was I who was not worthy,
and it is I who is not worthy,
You were always true,
it was I who always,
to give myself,
completely to you.
I do not know?
You whispered in my ear,
a breathy secret, hushed.
“I love you”, you murmured.
I said nothing,
lost, in your arms,
I found a home. At last.
“I love you”, you said,
I said nothing,
lost in my thoughts,
I found peace. At last.
“I love you”, you said,
words failed me then.
They still do.
Spring with lunch
To play a bunch,
With eyes anew,
A differant you
Sits deep inside,
A differant me outside.
They were given to me,
to use abundantly and wisely...
when I smell the spring roses
redder than blood, or whiter than snow:
everyone should see how I these eyes glow
while their fragrance becomes my indulgence.
These are the gifts for all to enjoy,
how can one not appreciate them as I do?
And whenever they inspire, I indite their beauty
so inexpressible and unable to subdue
with lovely glances that induce a feeling of awe and delight...
have you ever felt this by walking past gardens before twilight?
Touch them as curiosity makes you ponder and surrender,
see unhappy larks fly skyward to seek a new adventure,
follow them and wish you had their swift wings...
to find those places only imagined in night dreams;
much more you can have by using every sense,
waste none of them...value them and show reverence.
Even when they are cut from their thorny stems,
and will be offered to sweethearts and friends who show loyalty...
how beautiful they will be in those caring hands!
Pick some of them: smell their aroma...isn't it as strong as it can be?
I've walked with you down a path from Spring to Fall,
showing you how to revive your senses and be glad to have them all.
Give me a season....give me a reason...to start anew
It's gonna be autumn soon and the leaves are dropping like dew
Give me a season...give me a reason...to change color
I bet I'd be the color blue....Ohoohooooh... But I'm just a blur
Give me a stairway...teach me the baby steps...to start anew
It's gonna be a tornado...pretty soon and the wind is blowing so true
Hold my hand...hold it tight...give me your trust...give me a sign of contentment
I bet you're the color yellow...like the burning sun....ohoohoooooh...we'll set up a tent
We'll be together at last...the ocean won't separate us...ohoohoooooh no!
We'll be partners at task....the mountains won't make us give up...ooh ooh no!
We'll be together all the time!
We'll be together...no matter what time...
What season...what day...what hour
We both got the power
And we won't cower!
We will blossom up like a flower
And we will be as vigilant as a tower!
I'll change the season to spring time
Just for you...just for you...
I'll obliterate the darkness and destruction...I'll wipe off the grime
From your hand...from your hand
Our friendship will never cease
And we'll create peace...
Peace in mind
Peace that you'll find
In the Spring time
There is a time
For peace, love and hope
I'll do what you wish and never say "nope!"
Because we'll be working together
And we will conquer!
And we will be stronger!
And we'll create peace...
in due time...we'll have peace in mind
Peace that we'll find
In the Springtime