Some problems
Cannot be solved with money
Do not have a clear cause
Do not hide behind words
Some problems
Appear out of nowhere
They live right where we do
Like furniture or crockery
On the table or in the sideboard
Or like the view from the window
On a clear day, or at dawn
When winter sets in
Summer days will be frozen
In the photo archive of years gone by
Memories will flood back
And there are no problems
Some problems, fortunately
Disappear of their own accord
Without anyone’s involvement
Like snowflakes melting in the air.
As old age upon us descends,
we view the past through rosy lens.
It seems to us that bygone days
were far better in many ways.
The memories of better times
help us cope when life serves up limes.
They give us hope that better days
will soon return, like Dawn’s bright rays.
But dreaming of the good old days
can cause us to live in a daze
and rob us of the good in life
that abounds amidst its strifes.
The good old days had their fair share
of heartache, trouble, strife, and care.
The present times, in many ways,
are better than the good old days.
Treasure the good from bygone days
Let them inform your present ways
So, you can reap the very best,
As you progress in your life quest.
There are days when my capacity for anguish runs thin
I can’t grok suffering as deeply as once I did,
In those carefree days of work and timelessness
Lacking the necessary sense of direction to ask
Is this place where I find myself truly mine?
I’d gladly rehash now this desultory vision
To fill the desperate need of balance and calmness
But it always occurs too late to be changed.
Who can tell why the autumn brings this anxiety
In a hindsight, what looks like a budget movie, poorly directed
As if I’m passing some young guy
On a shady street, in a lunch hour
In whom I would never recognize myself
With whom I don't have a word to share.
Body aches
heart breaks
negatives vibes
help from my tribes
moving forward
healing inward
Monday was for me a day when I felt blue.
Tuesday was not much better, I would say.
Wednesday meant work for the week was half through.
Thursday saw the weekend coming. Hip hip Hooray.
Friday was when I’d collect my pay.
Saturday more fun – if the cash was not all spent.
Sunday I would go to church and hopefully repent.
When we were young, with songs unsung,
glad hearts, bright minds is what you’d find.
Time then sped on. Years came our way.
We grew and loved. We worked and played.
Those Happy Days!
With Kith and Kin, I’d sing and grin.
But must concede, that time did speed.
On dif’rent paths, we spread our wings,
and went our ways, saw dif’rent things.
On Happy Days.
From Jesus Christ, gained truth and life,
learned sacrifice, since love is right.
So we obey, since it’s The Way,
to His good grace, to see His face.
Oh! Happy Day!
Some time to go, before I sleep.
Promises due, are yet to keep.
I look now, back, o’er all the years,
rememb’ring both, the joys, the tears,
of Happy Days.
Life tasted sweet. Now I’m most spent.
Soon, friends I’ll meet, where there’s no end,
to Happy Days.
When going to school at a tender age,
The little girl would put on her socks and shoes,
Give her parents a goodbye kiss,
And run out with her school bag and lunchbox,
A smile upon her face, filled with joy and happiness,
Excited to learn a new word from her teacher.
Days turned into months,
And months into years,
Until finally came her graduation day—
The day she would leave those beautiful school days behind.
Afterward, her school uniform and school necessities
Rested quietly in the wardrobe,
Becoming memories of her beautiful early days.
She looked at them, sighed, and said,
"Indeed, this is where you finally ended,
After being with me through my beautiful early days." ??
From an earthen pitcher, a few intimate letters
fly away as birds, written in the language of water.
Flowing across the breast of the R?-manobi in the bridal chamber,
the leaves from the story of the wild rose in the eyes of the forest doe
cause no loss of life.
A blue whale rises
from the Pacific Ocean and plays football
with a village boy. Then no one remembers
the cup of the melancholy emperor. On the restless heads
of cows and buffaloes, I too keep sprinkling holy water
and continue searching for
the botanical life of unmarried kholamkuchis.
Citizen rain and those khichuri days
had increased the fertility
of my disappearance
Hooray autumn is on it's way,
the long summer has been way too too hot.
Cooler days are what I want,
with a soft cool breeze covering me.
Pretty leaves falling down,
colors are a patch quilt carpet.
The welcome mat now reads autumn.
As sung to the tune of
Help Me Make It Through the Night
The Original song was sung by Kris Kristofferson
Once gold was my long blond hair
But summer's changes turned to fall
Now there's wrinkles on my skin
Lines of memory of it all
Yet you're still here by my side
Love by day and through the night
Flyin' fast, our walk-through time
Hand in hand walk in the Light
And we're still singin' our song
Though baby, I don't understand
How yesterday's tomorrows,
On earthly plains, somehow must end
Many tomorrows are gone
That were once far outa' sight
With you, I've never been alone
Lovely days of golden light
Lord, I'm grateful for this life
Lord, I'm grateful, I'm his wife! <3
Happy 49th Anniversary Jerry, I love you!
A 49th Anniversary song (Sort of a parody!?) to my beloved husband Jerry, from his loving wife, Betty Jo.
As sung to the tune 'Help Me Make it Through the Night'
Original Songwriter: Kris Kristofferson.
365 days
By Michelle Morris
28/08/2026
It's been 365 days
And I've loved almost every one
You and I, almost, almost
But sadly, I think we're done
Because I knew from the very start
You were the love of my life
But it's been 365 days
And I don't think you feel we're right
365 days of our love
365 days of our shared life
365 days we made memories
365 days when it felt right
And as much as I have loved you
As much as I cared so much
I know I have to set you free
So we can separate our stuff
The stuff that might have blinded us
The stuff that's in our hearts
The stuff that's not been resolved
The stuff that's broken us apart
It's been 365 days
And I've loved almost every one
You and I, almost, almost
But sadly, I think we're done
© Michelle Morris, 2026
365 days since you left and so much has changed yet nothing feels different at all.
I still feel empty and cold
and the pain of loosing you changes me more everyday… in no way for the better.
My life has been filled with pain and loss but nothing prepared me for this.
The loss of loosing you,
My hero,
My defender,
My biggest fan.
There’s a hole in this world without you.
A fear, because I know I’ll never be who I was before.
I am a fatherless daughter.
A failure of all the things I never got to be before you left.
Of all the memories left unmade.
The words left unspoken.
What a burden,
what a burden life has become.
For I am a fatherless daughter.
365 days and I am a fatherless daughter
And so much has changed….yet nothing…. nothing feels different at all.
The door opened again
?For 26 days
26 days of hoping?
26 days of praying?
26 days of suffering
It was like 26 days in hell
?Around you, I could never be well?
Talking to you, I felt like I was in jail?
So now I quell you and never dwell?
On all the pain that made me fail
I don’t want to go through it again
?So I’ll finally close the door
?Hoping you won’t find a pit?
To make me fall back into it?
And make me suffer?
For another 26 days
the end of summer
when heat begins to dissolve
welcoming relief
Where’s the gravy train I rode
In those days of waggy tails
With no thoughts of getting old
And no precious aim to chase
I can’t recognize the wreck
Whose each morning’s waking up
Counts as luckiest comeback
But it’s me with coffee cup
Course I had that vague idea
What those better days acquire
Mary Hopkin puts it clear
There’s no point to join the choir
Days of pleasure, wine and smoke
Days of roses, lovers lanes
All has gone beyond the joke
Though the joker still remains.
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