Wednesday, November 19, 2014

True Colors



True Colors

Outside, it's cold, and the wind spins the snow.
Inside, a poinsettia sits, perky and defiant,
proud, by the window.

The plant, thriving from a Christmas past, is green, 
a LOUD, boisterous green,
On the leaves, not a speck of red can be seen.

I tried to make the plant turn red for the season.
With a mind of its own, the plant remained green, 
ignoring tradition, ignoring reason.

I know some people who are like that too.
They fly their own colors: create their own hue.
It makes no difference what others think they should do.

Variety is good, though. Don't you think? 
Leave the poinsettias and the people alone.
Let them be green or purple or pink.

It takes all colors to make the rainbow.
Different perspectives change the spectrum.
The more you see, the more you know!

Friday, November 7, 2014

Raindrops Play a Lullaby

Raindrops Play a Lullaby

Raindrops play a lullaby 
against the window pane
in a soft chorus of voices.
In spite of this sweet serenade,
sleep has been elusive,
as thoughts ricochet in my brain,
mulling over decisions and choices.

I open my eyes and stare at the shadows.
Then, from under my blanket I rise.
I drift to the windows to peer into the dark.
Autumn trees have lost their leaves. 
They look barren, lonely, and stark.

Street lights emit a golden glow,
like hazy stars in the rain.
The silvery pavement below 
is shimmering, glistening.
Cars slip by, their tires swishing,
while I stand watching and listening,
listening, listening to the rain.

Small glints of light 
reflect from the chrome 
on cars parked along the street,
flashes of light like sparks 
dancing with frozen feet.

I look to the windows
of other houses and wonder 
what secrets they might keep.
My worries suddenly seem small.
I climb back in my cozy bed, 
hoping to return to sleep.

Raindrops hit the window pane
singing a lullaby,
repeating the words in sweet refrain,
"Dreams are worth a try."
I drift and doze and close my eyes,
and soon I'm fast asleep.
The rain was right
with wisdom deep.
Dreams are worth a try.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Super Heroes

Super Heroes

Those fellows of mine convinced me to go
to see a movie about the latest super hero.
There was a lot of noise, flash, and thunder
and unbelievable feats of strength and wonder.

By crashing and bashing and throwing things around,
the hero pinned the evil-doers down to the ground,
saving all of us from the proverbial bad guys.
(It's amazing what you can do when you're wearing a disguise!)

But I see bigger heroes in the people all around me:
Mothers comforting little ones while bandaging a knee;
Volunteers helping strangers after a devastating tragedy;
Peacemakers changing animosity to solidarity.

My super heroes are the ones who are kind
to those who have been bullied, ignored, and left behind.
They value gratitude, sharing, and generosity.
I admire their attitude, caring, and philosophy.

My super heroes still believe in love's power.
They recognize the healing grace 
that comes from planting a flower.
They believe in the higher good. 
Of course they do. We all should.
They give us someone to look up to
 every second, every minute, every hour.


Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Another Step, Another Stage

Another Step, Another Stage

As long as there are those who love me,
and the sun still shines above me,
I won't worry about my age.
It's just another step, another stage.
Quite clearly, this is how it's supposed to be.

My knees can no longer be trusted.
My dreams? They need to be dusted.
My joints are achy.
My hands are shaky.
Like the Tin Man, I fear I have rusted.

Still, I have a stack of books to read,
and there's hot tea in my cup--what more do I need?
There's music to listen to and art to create,
so what do I care if the hour grows late?

I miss the days of feeling bold and sure.
My insignificance grows the more I mature.
swear I am still young inside,
and I do try to take aging in stride,
but being a grownup has lost its allure.

As long as there are those who love me,
and the sun still shines above me,
I won't worry about my age.
It's just another step, another stage.
Quite clearly, this is how it's supposed to be.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Kaleidoscope in the Sky


Kaleidoscope in the Sky

Come hold my hand and stroll with me
beneath this brilliant canopy.
We'll wade along the drifted street 
through dry scraps, 
curled and crisp beneath our feet.

A breeze will swirl the colors,
 a kaleidoscope in the sky,
sifting blessings over us, 
a whispering lullaby.


Sunday, October 5, 2014

A Closer Look

A Closer Look

I walked along the flower trail,
finding joy in each detail.
I was the only one around,
(I thought),
but then I heard a buzzing sound.
After taking a closer look,
let me tell you what I found!

Two bees danced around the morning glories




and another around the daisies.


Black-eyed Susans were quite an attraction
to lightning bug ...


and spider action...


and to an inchworm measuring, measuring 
fraction by fraction.


A wee, green bug perched on a purple petal...




while a beetle with spots 
chose orange 
as the place to settle.


A green and black 
dragonfly fellow
stood out clear and bold 
against his choice of yellow,


but his brother nearby 
could barely be seen
hiding in plain sight 
against the green.


A Mourning Cloak 
with ragged wings 
lit on a plain leaf nearby


while against the glory of a lily 
lounged a common housefly.


All of them among the flowers:
 butterfly, beetle, and bee
add to the details that delight me
 and make for good company.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Diner Therapy


Diner Therapy

We come home
wearing the long day
like a heavy bag 
slung across one shoulder.
Our feet drag.
Our spirits sag.
We feel weary, defeated, older.

Everyone is hungry,
but no one wants to cook.
The refrigerator holds nothing inspiring,
no matter how many times we look.

And so it is decided,
tonight we'll be dining out.
We head to our usual spot:
the mom and pop place on our regular route.

We're greeted with friendly smiles
and shown to our favorite seat.
We open up the menu
and decide what we want to eat.

I order the gourmet chicken salad
with craisins, walnuts, and grapes.
It comes with pecan-crusted banana bread
and warm cinnamon scalloped apples
from which taste-tempting steam escapes.

We settle in and unwind
and let the day melt away.
Enjoying a little diner therapy,
we laugh and talk and find things to say.