Tag: Life

March 2

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Am I At this Point in My Life, Really?

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Her Cholesterol

Is approaching the limit doc assures

Her Cholesterol

Is dictating new morning protocol

Warm gruel and exercise she now endures

Hoping this simple lifestyle change cures

Her Cholesterol.

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(A Rondolet Poem)

February 25

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Fagus grandifolia – An Elegy

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How tragic to see your current state

A fraction of your former self, age lines exposed

Your web of roots continuing to operate

Despite trunk, branches and sky being juxtaposed.

Your large beautiful being we did celebrate

You’d live forever we supposed

Your community contributions did motivate

And to your untimely death we were opposed.

As the value of your life we contemplate

We know another could never duplicate

You will never cease to fascinate

More of you we will try to cultivate.

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(An Elegy)

February 24

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Fagus grandifolia – An Epitaph

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Here lies an American Beech

Who cleaned our water and scrubbed our air,

Kept animals safe from predators’ reach

And to wildlife, her beechnuts did share.

*

In her community she played a large part

And though her absence will be profound

Generations will continue, thanks to her heart

For now where she was, the sun hits the ground.

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(An Epitaph)

February 12

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January 12

Life is Sweet

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Why do you let your dreams

Settle at the bottom of your life

Under the weight of the day to day

Like an unstirred blob of honey

At the bottom of a warm mug of tea

Not sweetening the drink

Not making a difference

Resulting in something less enjoyable

Than it could be?

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(A free verse poem)

January 31

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The Beginning of the End

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He would not tell her what that paper said,

Turning pale after scanning what it read.

“Why won’t you share? What is your fortune?”

She thinks they both need to hear something fun.

Ghostly, glaring he eats the cookie instead.

*

He flicks the crumpled slip her way with dread

“A new love is blooming” the fortune read.

Eyes lift up from the words, “what have you done?”

He would not tell her.

*

“What have you done?” repeatedly she plead,

Heart and stomach dropping, as if of lead.

Knowing the challenges have just begun,

Knowing this was the ending of their fun,

Knowing the life as she knew it was dead

He would not tell her.

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(A Rondeau Poem)

January 30

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Foot Stomping

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I am not too old

For wishing for a snow day.

I am not too old

To have a very large toy box.

I am not too old

For bike riding with my friends.

I am not too old

For making snow angels.

I am not too old

To dance to the songs on commercials.

I am not too old

To enjoy pizza dinners and ice cream desserts.

I am not too old

For stopping and smelling the flowers.

I am not too old

To slide across the floor in brightly colored socks.

I am not too old

To strap into a snowboard and slide down a mountain.

I am not too old

For coloring colorful pictures.

I am too old

To bother staying within the lines.

I am not too old

To fling myself through rapids in a little boat.

I am not too old

for learning.

I am not too old

For lifting bark on rotting logs to look for bugs.

I am not too old

To leap from boulder to boulder.

I am not too old

To try new tricks.

I am not too old

That the glorious feel of cool crumbly soil escapes me.

I am not too old

To delight when my skirt puffs up as I spin and twirl around.

I am not too old

For falling in love again.

I am not too old

To do anything that makes me happy.

I am not too old.

I am not too old.

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(An Anaphora Poem)