Returning Poems

Returning Clouds-TSF

Each day,
I wake -
within,
a hope
for warm,
sunny,
blue skies;

and like 
flower
petals,
with care,
slowly  
open
my eyes.

Today,
I see,
just like
many
days ere, 
dark clouds,
and so,

I sigh, 
"I thought,
I got 
away -
yet, once
again,
laid low".

The Return

The Return 

The quietness spreads thickly,
the atmosphere even thicker.
Nature has lost its voice
as the house glowers down at him
caped in silent stillness;
a muscle waiting to twitch!
 
Side-stepping the house’s deafening glare,
he slips into the secluded garden
where nostalgia waits to ambush him
with memories unfurled everywhere;
hanging in the trees, draped across flower beds
lounging on the wooden bench.

On Returning Leftover Peppermint to My Neighbor

Digestion liquesces peppermint. I chew
the leaves for both of us, an aftertaste

when stillness is an afterthought.
Dust gleams like the raised plastic on a debit card.

Winds seem to bank and then burst through a window
in a venetian blind-slatted sunshine;
bars slit across you on the floor.

Strangers make front entrances where shoes scuff the rug.
The briefest, jagged arcs

Returning Wish

I threw a penny down a wishing well
But I didn’t make a wish
I was returning a wish
I had been holding onto this penny for awhile
Thinking that my wish would return back to me
But that’s not how life works

A wish only has so much life to it
I wish it could be eternal
I wish it could last

Returning to the Flock

The grass seems greener on the other side, so we sometimes forget that the Lord will provide. We step away from the safety we receive so we step into danger and then we start to grieve. The wolf hides among us and we naively don't see the snare, until we're caught up in the unknown

Me at 83

MR ROGERS KEEPS RETURNING

May we be blessed to teach our children about love
and to the words of Mr. Rogers keep returning…

By giving our children the chance in life
to practice what they’re learning.

Returning an Order

When something arrives and I learn
That it’s going to need a return,
It’s annoying to wait
For a different date;
Getting rid of it is my concern.

Yet when circumstance doesn’t allow
Me the chance to return it right now,
I will stare at the box,
Which will seem like it mocks
Me for ordering it anyhow.

It may sit there for several days,
Even

returning home

the old mill reposes in the middle of the peppered autumn trees
spruced up under the jurisdiction of golden, yellow, red, maples
the scene cannot be captured in a photograph, it is soul searing
My throat clogs up and I gasp, full of childhood memories

I sit at the edge and watch the revolving spokes of the water wheel
the

RETURNING UTOPIA

       

         Refuse death,
         giving impulses to life...

          cheer up the body
          breathing and dreaming...

The Memory Speaks

The Memory Speaks

I leave…
But…I come back — again.  Again
I’ll return
    through time’s opening doors,
…Fleeting through peripheral halls
    — their floors — so well cleaned 
    and polished to such perfection, I see
How they mirror my changing face ~ 
Traveling 
Off in the hours
  

Returning To the Snowman

We built a snowman the other day when winter had the gall
to visit North Carolina…in the middle of the Fall

We went back the next day to visit our snowman…
to the exact post we set him on
but since Fall had regained control of the season…
our little snowman was gone.

About the time we were lamenting…thinking our snowman

Returning Home

Born
         Baby
     Raises head
 Crawls everywhere
 Starts to walk 'n talk...
   ...Old age sets in
   Wheelchair-bound
     Slumps down
          Dies...

Returning

Something sits unsaid
and never takes form
but seems lifelong, a shadow
that occupies a space 
and yet has no shape
nor gives a hint of where
it's from.

It falls across the mind
from up ahead
or reaches out of somewhere
behind, way back where 
memory hides or comes 
falling from above out of air
or rises up from a pit.

It curls up in

Returning Home

Returning home

After decades of wandering over the globe
I am back here at the point where I started 
My home at the top of the lush green mountain 
Stood along the canopy like a  monument of time

Through my Mahogany framed windows
I see the cloud capped Seven Virgins
That shook the aviation history
With an unfortunate chilling story
When

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