The weather changes abruptly
table for two, tea will do
the affairs of two go on sweetly
the weather lets up, but they do not
more tea will do as the affairs continue.
The lanes of Yew trees
in the Garden of Remembrance
cast long shadows
over the wilting wreaths of regret.
The miasma
of the colophons
inscribed
superseded by
the suppressed vignettes
at each service held.
"Sunsets are so beautiful that they almost seem as if we were looking through the gates of heaven."
— John Lubbock
I stand watching the salmon sun set,
It's as beautiful as it can get,
Nothing more divine discovered yet,
Heaven's classic everyday vignette.
wind whispers secrets so sweet
his dark figure casting a shadow
as he looms gently over her
tracing the curve of her lips real slow
memories merge with mounting misery
hurting haunting tearing apart
but her sobs subside with the setting sun
as the birds bring beauty to her heavy heart
Bidding goodbye to single blessedness
beauteous sister braves aisle toward marital bliss
blooming with her bridal bouquet, God*-bestowed
beaming midst hopeful best from heart’s abyss.-
*2 Corinthians 9:8 - And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work.
February 28, 2025
7th place, "Saints and poets maybe - Simplified" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Suzette Richards; judged on 3/9/2025
maybe the bride airmailed me a message
to object to their match would be a mad gaffe
so I found fulfillment in fantasy
as off flopped her head in a photograph
lamenting ripples of the wandering wind whisper
lone tune in the golden glow of the tranquil twilight
shattered dreams serenade the sunset swansong
memory makes stellar moment in sequined night
sweet smell of her envy perfume
drowned that stench of betrayal play
stygian smile blurred by church-white veil
her heart habitually astray
the blushing bride of summer sunset
dances daintily with the wistful wind
forgetting sorrow brought by bitter winter
drying tears tossed by those who sinned
The last of the lights turned out,
drinks and hors d’oeuvres put away,
restaurant returned to its every-day self,
only a few candles in glass lanterns
now left on the bare pine tables.
She sits at one of the tables, and,
wincing, kicks off her shoes, removes
her cocktail apron and name tag,
leans on her elbows, inhaling the
cinnamon steam from her hot toddy.
Exhausted, with her piled-up hair
slightly disheveled, she relaxes.
The bride and groom are off
on their honeymoon to Santorini,
guests and most staff home to sleep.
The neon glow from outside
bathes her in a pink and blue haze
making her look less like a waitress
and more like a girl expecting a date
or actress waiting for her audition.
The hot drink gone, she redons shoes
and fetches her coat and purse
from the kitchen, leaving the cup.
Georgio, the boss, calls “Get some sleep.
You’ll need it tomorrow.” She sighs.
a maiden from Nazareth
fully human,never divine
in a stable did confine
brought forth a child-
human,Jesus,saviour..mine
In Canada, the First Indigenous Communities sadly watched as the ground
penetrating high-tech equipment searched and found the unmarked graves
of residential school children. These children were taken from their homes
by force, beaten, raped, and killed, and buried in unmarked graves in what
is called the Sixties Scope. As an Ojibway girl, I watched too.
In a Manitoba church basement archeologists detected fourteen possible
graves sites thinking they could be human remains of children.
Some in the community said let the dead rest, others demand justice for
these children taken by the government. Is there relativity in digging up
the remains after all this time?
I have screamed to the sky at each revealed grave, why! Oh, no time can
erase the hurt and pain of the Indigenous people. This is part of the history
of Canada. No words can ever remove it. Yes, it happened, it was real !
My wife and I enter a restaurant across the street from the airport, our kids in tow. There is quite a crowd with little room to maneuver. Our name goes on the waitlist. Ugh.
Carol and I are taking turns holding our 2-month-old son while the other holds the hand of our 3-year-old. As I take the baby my wife realizes Daniel isn’t there. She frantically scans the area and sees an older man leading Daniel by the hand toward the exit. Quick to respond, Carol runs toward them, repeatedly shouting, “Daniel, stop!” Daniel turns and the man releases his hand and exits as my wife scoops Daniel into her arms. I am a beat behind. We experience a flood of emotions.
They call out our name. Our table is ready.
I released my breath and reminded myself that this too shall pass. I didn't realise it would be this painful. Tears filled my eyes as yet another contraction racked my body. It came at regular intervals now. I hoped this ordeal would be over soon. But that was not to be.
Half a day later, I was still crying out in agony. This was worse than dying. I couldn't bear it anymore. In anguish, I prayed, "How much longer, Lord?" I was tired and my throat felt hoarse. I never thought I could cry so many tears. I simply wanted to close my eyes and drift off to a painless sleep.
Finally, after TWELVE of the most gut-wrenching and the lo............ngest hours of my travail, my cute, little cherub came into this world. And my! Was I happy!
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