‘Help’ can be a hard word to say,
be gentle if it’s said to you.
A sunny day March sixty seven
The day that you and I were wed
Together we did pledge our troth
A life together for us both
Two years passed
Then we were blessed
With our precious son
Our only one
~~~
We had our ups
We had our downs
But mostly smiles
Not many frowns
In latter years despite our fears
Cancer took its toll
We moved to be beside the sea
For both Pisceans
You and me
With bulldog Bill
We happily
Embraced our precious time
Then one sad day Bill slipped away
Two months on and you were gone
~~~
So now I sit alone and ponder
Our life together
Our love forever
At 3pm the sun shone down
On this our wedding day
My lovely dad gave me away
Me twenty then
You twenty three
So young were you and I
~~~
Now standing gazing out to sea
My darling dear
I send to thee
All my love eternally
Oh joyous day
I celebrate
Our Wedding Anniversary
Written 25th March 2021 ~~ married 25th March 1967
Contest All Yours (Mar 26)
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Sixty-seven going on thirteen.
My face fools people.
My friends know this.
Sixty-seven going on thirteen.
I am invisible at work.
The others are under forty.
Sixty-seven going on thirteen.
Reflecting my real age in my writing
I make young friends.
Sixty-seven going on thirteen.
I am only unafraid to show myself in poetry and art.
So hold on if you want the ride.
“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.”
Rumi
It was the summer of 1967 and the sun was almost bran new
me and Tony L. skipped to the corner to raid the candy store
sometimes we bought a paper bag full of small penny candies
other times it was a fancy box, full of Cracker Jack popcorn ...
We grew up like sleuths on 2nd Avenue by the rubble of Miron
sludging through dried clay and playing with colorful marbles
As we played with washed up marbles, we grew up in time
laughtering our days until the sober rays of adulthood arrived
No one will ever forget that place on St. Michel dear bro,
it was where the pine tree grew, when life was spanking new
all the prizes that we won, are still laying on the concrete floor
Written by : Mystic Rose
Sixty seven minutes
Help the poor every day is
Mandela day
Sixty seven minutes
Help the poor every day is
Mandela day
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