I came for summer
And stayed for fall
Autumn leaves fell
I was still here and
Now it was getting
Cold. The chill did
Not deter. I waited
It out. Spring was
'Round every corner.
I stayed for summer.
Category Archives: Gratitude
May
April was "the cruelest month"
T. S. Eliot had his sway, being
Right only goes so far and now
May comes in teasing, blowing
Hot and cold like a lady in waiting
Flowers, famously made hers
By the showers of anticipation
From the clouds of the month
Before sit unsure of themselves
In beds strewn around tree trunks
Cast too early for their colorful
Debuts, appearing papery and
Transparent in the iffy sunshine
Of overcast May days, seeking
Succor from the chill winds, not
Quite secure in their nesting
Places. Chaucer spoke of the
Renewal that is spring. I say it's
A process and a time of year.
Spring pleasures
Our personal juices
Teasing through our
Veins. We are giddy.
Floral scents and that
Chaos of color makes
Us flighty as a puppy
Chasing butterflies.
It's spring; we crave
Love but more than
That. We're unreliable.
It's spring. Our blood
Is pumped for and
Primed. Renewal is
A reward, a privilege
The love life of flowers
The genitalia of flowers is frequently
On display, even in polite society as
Startling and unexpected as innocent
A pictorial to guide us on their growth
What good
Loving you will save us, although
I know I am powerless, and my
Love can't save you from what
Ails you and rips you from me, I
Know that actively loving, giving
My whole heart in my care for you
Is my salvation. Our lives are on
Parallel paths, but our love is a
Collision course, both perilous
And divine. Love doesn't stop a
Heartbreak, but giving love can
Mend or bend and reunite us
With our better, nay best selves
Feeling
Sex made me feel hopeful
And not just about us but
About the future. About all
Things sinuous, sensual, or
Sensate. About my senses
Hopeful about the sensitive
In everyone. The world was
Open and full of feelings. It
Was good. Good to be. Alive.
Everyday
Every day, not ordinary, not
Everyday. Make more of what
You've got. Days are a gift to
Treasure and enjoy. It's always
A new day that dawns, even
When it feels like you've been
There before. Every day, not
Ordinary, it's extraordinary.
Saturday. Impending eclipse
This is a sky full of expectations
This sky is brewing an epic event
Everyone says so, and I want to
Join in and be the enjoyer, happy
To watch for a darkening sky, a
Portent. An eclipse could bring all
Sorts of myths and tales of odd
Predictions and presentiments.
In sooth, the bleak will not foretell
Future events of a world plunged
Into obscurity. It will happen, but
Not again for a long, many years
Identify
Who am I? I am not
Complaining, mind
You; just curious.
It's easy to wonder
When the world is
Spinning so fast, I
Can't catch up or
Catch my breath. I
Knew yesterday. I
Did; then one more
Revolution took me
(And it) to another
Place, a new level.
Lost in the night
Held tightly in the cocoon of
A blanket, as fears envelop /
Develop into thoughts darker
Than the night. Where am I?
You wonder. Am I lost in the
Night? Would I know my way
In the daytime? Is it only light
I am missing to guide and to
Cajole me? Am I truly lost or
Only to myself so others can
Find me, strip off the cover of
The night and let me see where
I am in the daylight. Am I lost?
Tamara, really 