A Risk to Miss You

It’s a risk to glimpse
your image
in a photograph
or reminisce about
the good old times
when you were a
constant in my life.
A risk to wish
for one more touch
a smile
a nudge when
I’m feeling low.
A risk to hope
for one more waft
of your scent
as you wander by.
A risk to miss you,
but I’ll dive in
you’re worth the
energy I’ll expend
treading this river of my tears
wishing you were here.

Beauty Within

Caramel and golden hair
not from a box
but from genetics we
didn’t know we could produce.
Legs that reach the clouds
where her mind spends most
of its time.
She shines with
radiant smile and apple cheeks.
But her chestnut eyes
don’t sparkle as her image reflects
back to her.
Her smile fades until
she frowns.
Her beauty hidden from
her pre-adolescent eyes.
I fold her underneath my chin
wrapped snuggly within my arms,
she doesn’t know her charm
her grace
how much I wish I had her face.
But then she whispers up to me,
“Why can’t I be pretty like you are?”
She doesn’t see the extra weight
the lines settling into place,
she sees the person I am inside
the kind heart I never try to hide.
I point out all her perfect features
her warmth, her love
her slender silhouette.
But never will I forget
her reminder that I often neglect
to see the beauty within me,
just as I remind her to see.

In the Not Knowing

Comfortable in the not knowing

much about you.

Why’d you have to ruin it

find a way to bond with me

pull me in to your inner circle

with kind words and smiles?

Now I’m caught in your grasp,

have to attend all your bashes

laugh at your jokes

hold your hand when you crumble.

Of course, you do that for me too

so maybe I am just a fool

to forget the joy you’ve brought me.

A friend of a friend turned friend,

loyal until the very end

and I’m grateful in the not knowing

what would have been

if you hadn’t offered me a smile

that caused me to tumble for you.

“My Many Colored Days”

I used to have many colored days

a spectrum of yellow to green

joys and hopes and happiness

reflections of blossoms in spring.

But now my days are gray

with only flecks of colors frayed at the ends

brightest when I’m still at home

in the morning and once my day ends.

A palette smeared and blurred and frantic

from self-inflicted want for growth

but now I’m stressed and overwhelmed

and for hues of orange, I grope.

Waiting on Christmas

Pretty packages peak from under the tree

as needles once perky now sag.

Children hover, but don’t touch

as they count down days, hours, minutes

until Santa arrives.

I try

not to drive my husband crazy

fretting about

money spent

on gifts to thrill and delight.

What if I did not spend well?

What if the gifts are not quite right?

What if I replaced the one each longed for

with the one merely mentioned,

a passing interest,

a fleeting desire now expired?

So I count down days, hours, minutes

as well,

hoping that smiles will swell

and my frights will dispel

once the wrapping is ripped and

treasures revealed.

Until then, I must wait

tasty cookies on my plate

and the smell of aging pine in the air.

inspired by Poetic Bloomings prompt 34

Prompted, An International Collection of Poems

I am very excited to announce that Prompted, An International Collection of Poems is now available for purchase. I have two poems included in this anthology. All profits from the sale of this book are being donated to an international literacy foundation called LitWorld. Follow one of the links below to order your very own copy.

http://www.amazon.com

http://www.barnesandnoble.com

You

("love" prompt at Poetic Bloomings)

Moist eyes

each time you succeed

or try your best

filling my heart

it takes up more than my chest

fills my belly as well.

It almost hurts

how much I love

you.

(for my children: Ashlyn, Darrien, Emily, and Lathaniel)