They're treasures to me, so I don't mind.
My Aunt Ellie in tow, right behind.
I climb the ladder, lift wooden door.
There are piles of stuff strewn the floor.
She recites the story about Aunt Jean.
How she cursed her antique sewing machine.
Under material, maybe old drapes?
My cousin's old stereo, played 8 track tapes.
There's a carpet remnant, rolls of paper.
Aunt Ellie says the 70s, I think much later.
A box of dishes, perhaps wedding gift?
Not used Thanksgiving, too heavy to lift.
A pile of records, Walt Whitman Victrola
A photo of a young man on Venice gondola.
It was where my uncle asked Ellie to marry.
Damn, I sure miss my late Uncle Harry.
I relish the memories in this dusty loft.
Didn't realize Uncle Harry liked to golf.
Aunt Ellie glances around, teardrops flow.
All she wanted were her Christmas bows.
Written for Eve Roper
Took a 2nd place win.
Copyright © Rhoda Tripp | Year Posted 2017
I don't have all the pieces together;
This puzzle is just too much,
But God already has it figured out
As He is solving this from above.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome.
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome.
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.
Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2013
My mom was a strong woman, and stubborn too,
Yet she had a soft side, between me and you.
That side she would show, when you least expected,
But let me tell you, she was well respected.
Mom was quite unique, and was one of a kind,
She was set in her ways, so keep that in mind.
The youngest of nine, she had gotten her way,
Spoiled by her siblings’, almost every day.
Right out of high school, she had married my dad,
Blessed with three children, plus fifty years they had.
They both were hard workers, in all that they did,
My dad taught himself, from when he was a kid.
My mom was a smoker, for forty-six years,
Some day it would happen, she’d face all her fears.
Lung cancer she had, and inoperable too,
Her time on this earth, would be shortened we knew.
Radiation and Chemo, had done their thing,
Remission set in, tears of joy it did bring.
We would go out at night, to shop and to talk,
I knew she enjoyed, getting out for a walk.
Two years had gone by, after Thanksgiving Day,
Her pain had returned, but was afraid to say.
She’d lie on the couch; it was strength she did lack,
We knew in our hearts, that the cancer came back.
We shared lots of laughter, but many a tear,
I tried to assure her, she’d nothing to fear.
“Please watch over your dad, this one thing I ask.”
“I know it will be, quite a difficult task.”
One morning in March, Hospice called us to say,
You may want to come, for she’s slipping away.
For the night before, mom told me to stay home,
“Be there for your kids, you can call me by phone.”
When we all arrived, for a moment she woke,
Her eyes said it all, not a word had she spoke.
We stayed by her bedside, just holding her hand,
“It’s time to let go mom, we all understand”.
A few days had passed, not ready to let go,
For it had been raining, but letting up slow.
The sun began shining, the clouds disappeared,
Opening the heavens, for mom’s time has neared.
We gathered together, her forehead we kissed,
Whispering so softly, how much she’d be missed.
“Your time has arrived mom, just follow the light”,
She left us so peaceful, she gave up her fight.
It was time to drive home, in the car we got,
Then something had happened, while leaving the lot.
Huge drops of rain falling, it had to be fate.
They were tears of joy; she was at heaven’s gate.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski | Year Posted 2009
Meddlesome acknowledgement was my gift to many
I wondered where the nutrients were coming from
I was absorbing your words, parched by my own dimming light-years
There I was stunned by the legion of black-faced martyrs
Exasperation of the undeniable misunderstanding of every conceivable word
Left me with another path onto death
And not nearly dying, but regenerating in technological, factorial woe
Demon thoughts squeezed bile from the brim of subconscious drivel
Accelerating the ghouls from the gull of my esophagus
I was held down from the dreams of the fortnight
From words of architecture ascending from the brims of the archangels
Eyes remained closed
And I felt the actual descent of my downfall
I did not open my eyes at all
I did not mean to pry into your life, oh beautiful soul
Please accept my gift today
My fierce gaze into your lavishing grail
Led me to accept and love where I often fail
I am no longer smothered in your intricate designs
Though I am surely small to you
Though I feel only a fraction of a fool
I am the hidden spark under the timbers of lies
I am the hidden spark under the timbers of lies
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
It’s the silence that is killing
this cold November chilling
Natures beauty with frost, stillness, color but no sound.
A wiser woman knows the inner temperature of the soul paints the
landscape to match their own
a fool discovers the surfeit of despair
This Thanksgiving day bleak, weak, sick, sad, still, quiet, reflective
I had not to give the love you sought so you walked out,
And the past knew you were to come…
And like a reverberation of the all the relationships I’ve known
The past and to come will follow the ripples of that first stone,
I cannot love you in November I loved you all the months through
September, many decades upon each, watching entropy teach me the ways
I make no sound but inside screaming
Nature may be jesting in her seeming to mock whole
the lamentation of all the secret silent sorrows of each soul.
Copyright © Toni Orban | Year Posted 2015
Tires squeaking from exhaust… high in volume
Racecar spews out smoke…
Blinding the eyes of a thousand fans
Explosions avalanche downwards
Racecar drives fast and furiously
Awesome feelings launch through me
Projecting panic and twisted bliss
Catching the audience’s full attention…
Tension between challengers increase
Who could stand in their way… not even the coaches
Racecar screeches on the racing street…
Ain’t this competition neat? Come! Take a seat!
This event is brilliant – it’s such a treat!
Producing thrill or disappointment…
Car organs, fragments, shards, remains, limbs, veins
Spurts out in flames… flying at every possible direction
Countless racecars… barely functions – this scene is extremely horrendous!
Yet, the victories are gracious!
Vibrant applauses and thanksgiving triggers enlightening cheer
Have no fear!!!
The moment is ever so precious!
Racecar…you make so much racket and suspense!
Rowdiness is in your nature…who will pay the expense??
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Once upon a time there was a girl.
A girl who had a good heart.
She tried to help everyone.
Everyone except herself.
Once upon a time there was a boy.
A boy with a good mind.
He thought of ways to change the world.
He had problems though..he liked to party with drugs.
That girl ,The one with a good heart.
Went to Camp she was suicidal though..
She walked down stairs to the patio.
There she walked by a boy.
The one with a good mind.
That boy,The one with a good mind.
He saw her and he said Hello?
That was when they met.
Once upon a time there was boy and a girl.
They fell in love.
The suicidal girl became more and more happy
But more dependent on him for her happiness.
The philosophical boy treated her with care
took her places she had never been which was many
because she was a small town girl and he was a city boy.
There were things the girl didn't know about the boy,
he had told her he no longer did drugs...he lied...
she found out and started to cry...
It wouldn't have bugged her if he would have told her.
But he didn't. She confronted him.
He said you act as if ' perfect i didn't want you to think i wasn't.
Not even a week later the day before A national holiday
The boy with a brilliant IQ let the girl with a good Heart go.
He whispered "Darling the distance is too much,I'm sorry."
The phone drops from her hands and She falls to her knees.
How could this be She whispers. H-he said he loved me.
The boy yells through the phone. Don't let this ruin guys for you
Don't pick up a razor and hurt yourself don't harm yourself.
Then they never talked again.
Once upon a time twas a girl and there was a boy
They Had been in love but their love for each other wasn't enough.
One left the other and the other was left crushed.
The girl was left and even months later,
She cant go a day without him on her mind
She swears he has no hold on her,That shes over him
She has a new boyfriend He's good to her and he swears his love is true.
She can't help but doubt that it's a front.
The boy before him crushed her and he left her.
Once upon a time there was a broken girl
she had lost all her trust and she lost what she loved.
She didn't have a choice in the matter,
She will always remember him he was her first kiss and her first love,
But she will heal with time she will heal.
At least she hopes.. "
Copyright © Megan Johnson | Year Posted 2015
Because life is a short and fragile thing
I'll take the time to play and sing
And because life is dear and lasts only so long
I'll spend my days in games and song
Not a day goes by where I'm not face-to-face
With the joy and the strength of the young
And I pass not one day's embrace
Without hearing a song that is nearly sung
Each day will take one soul away
From me, so I'll cherish whom I am among
And the things that come so easily
Will bring pain before my song is sung
As it approaches what matters is made clear
And no thought is wasted as it draws near
With purpose I seek and hold to what's dear
And to be forgotten becomes my only fear
There is no way to know the last day
So today I will play and sing
And love and cherish whom I am among
And never forget when a song's been sung
Copyright © Brett Teal | Year Posted 2016
I wake up before the sun from a cozy bed
I walk outside and feel the crisp autumn chill
So I put a stocking cap on my head
I walk through the back yard
heading for the woods
doing something city boy
only wish they could
I arrive at my stand
and check the direction of the breeze
before I climb up ole faithful
a dying, dark barked maple tree
I make myself comfortable
as the sun stretches its arms
for the sky
producing iridescent colors
I live for the outdoor
and that's one of the reasons why
Not far behind me a freshly cut field of hay
in front endless rows of cornstalks fill the way
I begin to think of a tradition
My son and I on thanksgiving day.
he is still here with me
even though last November he passed away
I start hearing cars doors shut
its coming from over the hill
carrying an aroma of cinnamon
It's my favorite! Pumpkin pie
Justin, I'll be back, But for now Goodbye
Copyright © C.J. dont have one | Year Posted 2013
My fingertips are black now
From the picture in the obituary
It brings me back
To the day before thanksgiving
And I'm sorry that I wasn't there at the end
My cowardice runs deep enough
To hit my bones
This town isn't big enough
To hold all of my ghosts
So lets spend tonight
Singing along to warped 45's
My sins would kill you
If you were still alive
I used to have these secrets
They ate me up inside
Now we're out in the open
A pale fires replaced my bright eyes
And I'm sorry that I wasn't there at the end
It all ends in tears anyway
Copyright © K.M North | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
i do not sing on this Thanksgiving spring
The turkey is not on my table
No one is passing the cranberry
A silent gasp as the holidays pass
My voice is not up to the challenge
Of trying to rejoice with sweet verses I cannot
bring myself to interpret
Copyright © Bart Jonas | Year Posted 2006
Ginko almost solid yellow
Just a bare touch of green
Means the first frost or freeze
Is nigh on most any night
The color on the horizon
Is nothing spectatcular
Almost a clear sunrise
But the beauty is felt
In the quiet peace
The roosters are just
Softly crowing as if
Their vocal cords are frozen
Sea and land container
And truck go down the
Road and interfer with
Quiet of this glorious morn
Cindy comes around
Wanting me to feed
Her on the cold morning
I shiver she's comfortable
When i first came out onto
The porch there was a bird
That flew from the giant oak
To across the road almost silently
I believe it was the hawk
That has lived down the road
I enjoyed seeing that family
They became part of my life
Sea and land truck goes out
As does one eighteen wheeler
Sea and land hauling old
Machinery to coast to be shipped China
This is from a plant that once
Employed nearly three thousand
Now it is being torn down
After being sold three times
I am getting chilled so I
Must not stay out on the porch
Thank you God for the time
The time that you allowed
Thank you, Thank you
For the warmth of the house
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2009