There is a piece I've longed to share,
which, up 'til now, I wouldn't dare,
where courage pushes fear aside
and shackles up my foolish pride...
To put to words, as much for me,
affection in simplicity,
and say those things I wished I could...
that chance may now be gone for good.
I near succumbed to COVID's wrath;
now, barricades deny clear path -
a bottleneck for oxygen.
So much to tell; where to begin?
A battle raged; a drawn-out war
that ended with a winning score:
I pulled ahead - a blessed reprieve;
the reaper's gone; yet, still, I grieve.
For scars remain; we coexist.
Not given up; I will persist,
but dreams? There was one 'mong the few:
to hold you close and sing for you...
A tune that melds our hearts together,
and keeps us warm through stormy weather,
a lullaby to ease all fear
and let you know how much I care.
But vocals won't cooperate;
on ev'ry nerve the raucous grates.
Those singing days are done, it seems;
some visions, sadly, dwell in dreams.
If fate insists that I must wait,
this voice will ring at Heaven's gate!
So, pardon, if I'm way off-tune;
at least, at last, Love will shine through!!
Jodie
5/23/25
the breath of forgiveness
.
some say the music still plays
in the empty doorway, shaded with time
past an eternity of yesterdays
and melodic songs with words that rhyme
.
only in silence can you hope to hear
the forgotten songs that used to play
while harshly made noises of a foregone year
chase the sad gospel songs away
.
i see a badly peeling wall
with faded red bricks crumbling into dust
and an old man who once answered the call
whose ministry died when exchanged for lust
.
i felt a song begging for time
to be released into the waiting air
back into the heavens on a spiral climb
whispering for grace and mercy as a pair
.
in time all singers have surely died
all songs returned to their pillow clouds
with the purest music buried deep inside
where vagrant noise is never allowed
.
'til now the lonely cry of music's death
rests upon six waiting guitar strings
while the song has taken its final breath
and in heaven, a host of angels sing
.
.
© tolbert
With the cover designed by a student
(In a contest where everyone tried),
The yearbook impressed
And, as you might have guessed,
Pumped 5th graders and parents with pride.
Filled with photos, including class pictures
From their very first year up ‘til now,
Every child’s beaming face
Showed in every place
That the layouts would neatly allow.
There were pages for each of the seniors,
With some photos and maybe a quote,
Plus their hopes and their goals
For their future-self roles
Which, one day, they’ll be shocked that they wrote.
Here follows a curious song,
a question 'til now delayed:
Oh, what miracle set us abroad,
then here among the Lakes?
Was it a mutual desire to feel
what new cultures and
languages reveal?
Or that God wills fate to help and
to heal?
Each path, unmet, untold.
Yet, one moment,
one alter,
two hands for each to hold.
STARS OF CLARITY
The stars look down as I look up to them
I sense meaning in the darkness between
The tiny twinkles of light I see and respect
Accentuate what appears as the black void
They offer an insight to solve life’s problems
‘Til now, lurking unseen in the undergrowth
But these stars of clarity offer a new prospect
To examine all the pits and scratches of life
And for the first time, see the bigger picture
Perspective is the first real step toward sanity
Yet I wonder, who else sees stars in this way
Maybe millions, but billions just see blackness
Like a meteor shower
Hailing down from heights unknown
TRUTH bombs dropping every hour
Into a heart where WORD has been sown
Opening up new possibilities
Unimaginable til now
The VOID in every door jam
Beckoning rhythm to bow
Sorrow and grief want to dance
With depression upon the back
Swing, two three, jump, and glide
Over the dip, missing the crack
...where LOVE embraces lack
Written by Trudy Schrader on 11-19-2023
Lots of things I haven’t done
While I have been alive,
Yet there are trials ahead of me
Into which I must dive.
First and foremost, I must learn
To write with my left hand
And when you hear the reason
Maybe you will understand.
For up ‘til now, I never fell
And broke a bone I need.
Today I did and challenges
Await me, guaranteed.
Why?
A question for which,
There's no answer surely,
I'd honestly hoped,
You'd've had one for me,
Save who or what, when or where,
Even how,
Or is it which?
It's escaped me 'til now,
I'll tell you,
As confidently as I can,
With as much enlightenment,
As can come from a man,
I have a solution,
Though you may not like it,
Definitive and thoughtful,
Though fulfilling, not likely,
To the inquiry looming,
The outlook seems bleak,
But a word is a bond,
Even if tongue-in-cheek,
To be true, there's no answer,
But please don't be piqued
For it isn't an answer,
But a question you seek.
The word of the day is cakeage;
It’s when restaurants charge a fee
For bringing in an outside cake,
Which never used to be.
In fancy places, oenophiles
Prefer to bring their wine,
So there’s a corkage fee, which many
Seem to feel is fine.
But up ‘til now, I’ve never heard
Of anything called cakeage,
Though dot com dictionaries likely
Don’t make a mistakeage.
None of them have been me ‘til now;
Not trying to come off highbrow;
I’ll let you find out and say ciao;
Have a pow wow, have a pow wow;
They will all feel like my shadow
as they sit putting on a show;
You’ll feel it as soon as you go;
A notch below, a notch below.
... if I'm a One too...
then Who might be You
and if I thought that three
could be a cloud
then four might also
be adore for core Sounds
"... I'm loud and clear..."
said Clair to her Heir
and they might have thought God
was just a voyeur, til now...
"... I like your pants..."
she reminds
and then in a flash
at the depths of his mind
a second life
where he happen by Chance
found an old Soul
in a hippy armband...
"... I like that bracelet..."
he said
"... and I like to rewind
the time..."
I knew back then
we're two of a kind
"... I got the code..."
if you...got the jam
I waited a long time
Many times after you said goodbye
When was your last goodbye?
When you said it out of time
I stayed a long time
Too many times after you disappeared
You left me alone in no time
Even when you said everything are all cleared
I believed in you all the time
In all things you showed me
I believed in your precious time
In many times you swayed me
I will believe you for all time
Because I love you the way you are
I will love you for all time
Because you are a promise that you are
I never asked you to promise me
To be with me all my life
But you reneged your word to me
Leaving me all my life
Now you are coming back
Making me believe you are still the same
How can I love you back
Make myself believe you are not in shame?
Many years passed and wasted
You have forgotten me
Through the years I waited
You have forsaken me
Tell me now
Are you a real promise I must keep?
I kept you from then 'til now
Are you the real one I loved deep?
My husband’s hip’s titanium
So he’s accustomed to
A pat-down at the airport,
Right in everybody’s view.
Yet ‘til now I’ve not experienced
An agent treating me
Like I’m a lowlife criminal
Who just might up and flee.
She touched my arms (extended),
Then my waist and hips and back
And next, each thigh up to the groin.
(How she deserved a smack!)
She let me know beforehand
That my buttocks she would feel
And when she did I thought
That all of it was just surreal.
I guess I was a random pick
But I was awful pissed
To be treated, out in public,
Like a thug or terrorist.
In my linen closet
There are sheets that go way back.
In going through them, I have made
A quite imposing stack:
The brown and orange flowered ones
Of hippie-ish décor;
My husband’s, used to cover
His old mattress on the floor.
Our first set as a couple,
With bamboo boughs, colored peach
And all the rest on shelves I need
A ladder just to reach.
My kids’ twin-sized cartoony ones
Or those with baseball themes;
The extra-long sheets for the dorm
Which held some college dreams.
It’s finally time to winnow down
All those we haven’t used
In many years and which to ditch
I’ve up ‘til now refused.
I’d heard the ASPCA
Accepts old sheets and such
So they will find another home –
I will not miss them much.
Yet still, I’m sad to see them go
But I won’t be too vexed
Because I’ll have to face the fact
The towels will be next!
As a tree outlives a flower,
A blade of grass, a red, red rose,
I guess it will not be too long
Before my eyes are closed
And life was something of my past
I’d lived these many, many years,
Three score and ten and eight 'til now -
Through laughter, joys and tears.
For some tomorrow, I will be
No longer conscious to this life
When all my energy is drained
And I have no more strife.
In years to come, a hundred or
A thousand strong or many more,
Who will remember I lived now,
This side of my death’s door?
W.C.Hull © 2014-29-9-854 (E)
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