I don't feel 50.
I don't feel any age.
I'm in love.
And I miss him terribly tonight.
That is ageless.
So, I'll drink a little too much, cry a little too much,
fall asleep without him, thinking of him.
And understand how wonderful this all is.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Valentine's Day, reprise
On Valentine's Day
Two hearts
who had stopped beating seperately
began to beat together
On Valentine's Day
A question asked was answered
A heart given was met with another
being offered in return
On Valentine's Day
I lost my fear
of joining my life with another
and held my joy
in the love that I feel close.
On Valentine's Day
I let myself fall
and fly
into the place of the unknown
A place of deep loving and trust,
after those .20 seconds of insane courage...
On Valentine's Day
respect
honor
friendship
family
joy
and something more
something truly beautiful
met.
On Valentine's Day
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
valentine's day
Valentine's Day is coming.
I've posted before about Valentine's Day.
With the notable exception of 1985, this day has always been a bust in my world.
It's not that I've ever put expectations of any kind on it, from anyone.
Truly.
This year, however...
I'm just silly in love.
So, there are cards for each of the girls, little gifts for everyone. Just because I want to.
And there it is.
I've posted before about Valentine's Day.
With the notable exception of 1985, this day has always been a bust in my world.
It's not that I've ever put expectations of any kind on it, from anyone.
Truly.
This year, however...
I'm just silly in love.
So, there are cards for each of the girls, little gifts for everyone. Just because I want to.
And there it is.
Monday, February 2, 2015
drafts drafts and drafts
Just so many drafts.
I have a scribble book, as I call it, filled with poems and musings.
I know that there are writers who say, finish them all. But that's not always possible.
The thread gets lost.
The feeling gets burned.
The moment is beaten.
And it just goes by the by.
For me, my poetry these days is fairly fragile. It's deeply personal and I'm not willing to put my heart out on the table for just anyone to see. In fact, not for anyone to see. I get close, but something happens and I turtle it in.
Essays, no big. Like my opinion, don't like my opinion, I don't care.
Musings? Take them or leave them. They are mine.
So, off of here I go. And will those poems ever see the light of day?
Who knows. I'm afraid those have to be earned.
I have a scribble book, as I call it, filled with poems and musings.
I know that there are writers who say, finish them all. But that's not always possible.
The thread gets lost.
The feeling gets burned.
The moment is beaten.
And it just goes by the by.
For me, my poetry these days is fairly fragile. It's deeply personal and I'm not willing to put my heart out on the table for just anyone to see. In fact, not for anyone to see. I get close, but something happens and I turtle it in.
Essays, no big. Like my opinion, don't like my opinion, I don't care.
Musings? Take them or leave them. They are mine.
So, off of here I go. And will those poems ever see the light of day?
Who knows. I'm afraid those have to be earned.
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