The TV showed a tyrant tumbling towards our house.
I was weary and wanted to leave before it hit, but
My mom was too weak and too old to leave her bed.
She couldn’t leave so I sat, sat and prayed.
I boarded up a window standing on a chair—
Waiting. It was hurrying our way in the shape of a hurricane.
My mom said, “Remember Hurricane
Betsy back in ’65, we survived that in this house!”
She was trying to comfort me in my chair.
I was trying to stay calm for my mom, but
I was worried, so worried and again I prayed,
Watching, waiting and wondering over her bed.
As I walked to the window; I looked at my bed
Of roses freshly planted and hoped the hurricane
Would spare their lives, ours too! Then, me and the roses prayed.
Suddenly and without warning the power left our house
And a window cracked and crashed close to my mom’s head, but
She was ok. She was calmly asleep. Then, I sat in my chair
With a flashlight and waited. My old chair
Was calm and sturdy like my mom’s bed.
Throughout the night I sat confident that we would hold, but
Finally the overwhelming weight of the heavy hurricane
Broke the levees and lunged an ocean into our house.
I cried “Mom we have to go!” She woke and then she prayed.
And as she prayed
The water rose and knocked over my chair.
I picked her up and carried her to the roof of our house,
And we waited and waited—she missed her bed.
At last a boat came, on the side read “HURRICANE
RELIEF”. I told my mom it was time to go, but
She didn’t want to go, she was sad. But,
I convinced her that we couldn’t stay. We got in the boat—everyone prayed.
Then we waited and waited in a big silver dome with other hurricane
Survivors, all were thirsty, none were cold. “Mom…Wake up!” She lay dead in a chair.
So, I got some rubbish and filth and made her a bed.
I covered her up—I missed our house.
When I returned I found my chair though it was not the same, but,
I sat anyway and then I prayed. I put my mom’s ashes in a brand new rose bed
And begged another hurricane doesn’t take away—my mom and our house.
Copyright © Mike Butler | Year Posted 2010
As the first red rose blooms
The first bloom of summer__see
It reminds me of you dear
For I know how much you
Love roses especially those of red
I long to see you soon
But our eyes won't gaze soon
I'll have to enjoy the blooms
All by myself__ they are red
Like all my blood flowing see
From my broken heart that you
Broke when you left my dear
I loved you so much my dear
But you found another love soon
I just could not share you
But miss you when roses blooms
There is another that I see
And he really doesn't like red
I'll just dig up roses red
Then I'll forget about you dear
This new person I finally see
I will really enjoy marrying soon
We will marry when pink blooms
Adorn the running rose__ forget you
I'll just forget all about you
Except now when blooms roses red
Next year there will be blooms
Of pale pink everywhere dear
I will enjoy planting them soon
I hope that you will see
All the red roses disappear see
Soon they will go then you
Remember our lost love very soon
Every time you see roses red
You will remember me my dear
You'll remember when red roses blooms
Red roses see over there red
Ones that you really love dear
Full bloom soon red rose blooms
(First try at a Sestina...Thanks for the challenge Jared.)
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010
Like East and West you rose when I fell,
was that all we ever were?
Two poles that tried our best to,
with smiles like puddles, fit together right.
As gum does under a wooden table,
We dried up and hardened.
Your expression, once radiating untouched youth, seemed hardened.
And once your brow furrowed your smile fell,
like a fussy babe’s milk from the family table.
Acquaintances are what we had become, what we were.
Finding any fault in you solidified my right
to curse your name so I could feel something too.
Then I marched you forcefully to the guillotine to
damn and release you. Since my heart hardened
I felt our love had lost its rights,
a condemned criminal who lost it all when his defenses fell.
We looked at the time, which was more precious to you, as it were,
and you just tapped your feet under my table.
I cried “enough” and turned the tables.
Your indifference towards it was all too
much considering what we were.
But my will had hardened
and we could never last, come Fall.
You kissed my brow softly before you left and nothing felt right.
My heart, on a seemingly straight path, turned right,
and was consumed, ferociously, with silver forks on a table
by my loneliness, which rose when we fell.
And then I cried, not many tears, just two.
Once the salt from my tears had hardened,
I reassessed my emotion and tried to forget what we were.
But the shadows in my room you left behind were
keeping me from believing that it would ever be all right.
And though, when I let go my resolve for your absence hardened,
as I watched you stroll away from my table,
I couldn’t help but think we should still be two.
Defeated hopes and desires had nowhere to go, so they fell.
But the distances between us were so much more than a kitchen table,
And the intentions could never be right or natural too.
So I will rise and gain my hardened place in the sky and you can wait to fall.
Copyright © Kelly Doyle | Year Posted 2010