the smile on that bear’s face picked up the Christmas pace
A card from the fifties, yet it still holds love and grace
Who mailed this card? From whom could this treasure be?
I never found out, though I tried to through 1993
Finally deciding it did not matter whatsoever
This Christmas card lightens the worst weather
The smile on this whimsical polar bear
Tells me that someone does love me and care
she put on her autumn jacket and her favorite pinecone hat
marched to the post office and mailed the letter first thing flat
Santa Claus has never failed her; she knew he would reply.
Now all she had to do was wait for that red sleigh in the sky.
When I was a girl,
Every once in a while,
I’d receive in the mail,
Because that was the style,
A letter to copy
And send to a name
At the top of a list,
Which in that letter came.
When you copied the note,
You’d add your own address
To the list, while deleting
The top one. Success
Came when after some days
You’d receive quite a slew
Of the letters, from strangers,
Delivered to you.
If you followed the rules,
You would have some good luck.
If you didn’t, without it,
I guess you’d be stuck.
The letters back then
Needed stamps and were mailed
And the fun part was knowing
That you had prevailed.
Now my granddaughter sent me
A chain in a text:
“Sent to 15 new people
Or what happens next
Will be lots of bad luck
For 3 years if you don’t.
If you do, you will get
A new phone.” (No, I won’t.)
“You will also be getting
The pet of your dreams.
Everybody will love you!”
I guess that’s how it seems
To the youth of today,
But with this kind of chain,
As I wrote to my granddaughter,
I will refrain.
Think of your life
Before Amazon came.
At gift-giving time,
You had no one to blame
If the present you purchased
For a certain date
Wasn’t mailed out in time
And arrived much too late.
It was all on your shoulders -
The shopping, the wrapping;
Too bad if the calendar
Caught you out napping.
Now you click on the site
And you order away
With your gift, in a day or two,
Well on its way.
Impersonal? Yes,
But it gets to the door
Without much of the hassle
You dealt with before.
An occasional gift
Sent in old-fashioned style
Makes me marvel that someone
Went that extra mile.
Sunsets putting stars to shame
As I pray to the you in the Lord’s name.
I would have written you a letter or mailed you a card
But finding heavens address was a bit too hard.
There’s no golden mailbox for this special envelope
So that He will translate this message to you,
I can only forever hope.
It’s April 18th, your special day
But there’s just one thing in the way…
So tonight I’ll pray to you under the sun
About how you left just as your life had begun
I miss you so much more than I thought I ever would,
And as I go more days without you
I miss you more than I thought I ever could.
I just wanted one more birthday with you
But I guess this year a prayer will have to do.
I’ll wish you happy birthday through this special spoken note,
That I felt your presence as I tearfully wrote.
“Happy Birthday, Easton, don’t party too hard in heaven,”
although I know you’ll be forever eleven.
picture mailed
vet will see....
I'm trying
Wrote a letter to Santa.
I mailed it on a snowy night.
Crossed my fingers for luck.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I rhyme for coins,I rhyme for fame,
But landlords rhyme with none of the same
They want rent,not metaphor
They say'' your poem won't mop the floor.
I wrote a sonnet,soft and brave-
He mailed it back: ''Pay or Pave!''
So now I rhyme to save my head,
My muse sleeps hungry, my landlord's fed.
Celebrating in my brand new car
But sadly, I didn't get too far
Judge wailed quick as a wink
Express mailed to the clink
My rum ass parked my car "in" the bar
Plump and odd if it be round, for it being not its true girth,
albeit a perturbed belly is lacking as a mind revels in mirth,
as distant time and nigh rebels cause to fester pains worth.
For time begs the favor of that quill’s revival to regale its destiny,
as written walls forbearing thoughts, courses the spirited a remedy,
paper I have, but envelopes are in want, a late hour, a store's journey.
A store tends only a box of purple envelopes, as its price kills me more,
I relish the idea of the recipient who mirrors my mind on an even score,
ha, as I laugh in the gloom of no measure, stands I, keyless at the door.
An open window saved me—somewhat, as I grasped the desk nearby,
I felt it squished, splurting the unfinished work and my efforts applied,
loss bears its weight in value, I mailed graped purple, a knock replies I.
The love song with no lyrics
that is the reality of my life.
The empty tin with no noise
that is my cry.
The holes I patch
Open up new wounds.
The pressure of pain bursts out loud
like a broken water pipe.
All my memories are stored away
in a dark cloud
that rains
every time I recall
the fantasy of our love.
You wanted laughter,
so I rehearsed a smile.
I tied my soul to my words for you.
I learned to hold the storm,
swallowing the thunder
so your sky stayed clear.
The beautiful storm,
the sweet salt,
the calm sea,
the perfect love
oh, what a fantasy.
I patched the flame
with borrowed words and lullabies,
played our record
until it ran out of words.
I became fluent in silence
just to keep your peace,
but it screamed inside me
louder than love ever did.
I held the door open for you for so long,
I forgot how to close it on myself.
Oh, the irony of love.
Every smile I wore for you
left bruises on my soul.
Now I drown in the floods
I never let out.
And I wonder…
was my love letter
mailed to the wrong address?
special delivery the snail-man said as he came up the walk
the recipient was so surprised, she forgot how to talk
the letter had been mailed from Viet Nam in seventy-two
How many years back? Let’s see…..fifty-two
what kept you? she asked, her fingers shaking the envelope.
I brought it straight to you, said the snail, thinking she was a dope.
He had brought it to her as fast as he could and on the double.
Maybe hiring snails to deliver mail is asking for some kind of trouble.
Quote By: Sofia Rojas
The wrong person will find you at peace then later leave you in pieces
The right person will find you when broken and help you find peace again
Both are necessary in the development and learning of your existence.
So many years of trying to find the right partner
all I got was pain and heartache, where did I go wrong ?
Guess I spend too much time trying to protect my armor
lost in my loneliness I always felt like I didn't belong;
Then I learned to self soothe and sing my own lullabies
stitched my hopes to trust then prayed him in, Who knew
that the right one would come along and hear my cries.
Yes he came to my rescue, right on cue !
Sometimes we need to meet many Mister Wrongs
before we can finally find our Mister Right
It doesn't mean you failed,
it just means your prayer never got mailed....
Energy.
Twirling around, lying down.
But your eyes are going out of focus.
You make a blurry wish.
You wish not to fall through the couch.
Focus, and you’ll be able to sit upright for a minute.
Then sinking, and shrinking will occur with use.
You haven’t had coffee in two days.
But you’re more coffee than ever.
Empty cups and turning them over to wash and dry.
All day, the conveyor belt rolls toward you.
You need to wash huge pots and pans.
The conveyor belt continues.
Cereal and milk, pouring, pouring, pouring all day.
You haven’t gone to the coffeeshop in a week.
Or anywhere.
Just listening to clicking, and shaking sounds.
Trying to listen.
Energy.
But without caffeine.
Is like roller skates within you.
Nothing gets done until nighttime.
Make cookies at 3:00 am.
Come to life.
Dancing cookies.
Coffee.
You still never mailed that electric bill out.
Power down.
Lights out.
But still-
Energy.
So romantic love letters mailed
Now enchanted by the perfume smell
Amethyst art on cherry blossom card
Indigo ink drawing poetic little hearts
Lavender love language shines like star
Melodic moods within winged words
Arresting my heart soon as heard
I’m hanging on each silver sound
Living for love wherever it’s found
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