Are you a leader or a follower?
I am thrilled to hear Carole King
Sing "where you lead, I will follow"
Every time the verse gets me to
Tap my toes. I follow along. I join
Her song. I sing with the track, my
Apologies for that; it's your song,
Ms King, your voice, your vision.
Let me just follow where you lead.
List your top 5 favorite fruits.
The peach, it's peachy
And summer fruit is the
Best. It's wonderful when
Summer is in your bowl
Or drips down the side of
Your mouth. Sweet and a
Little sassy. The tart plum
Brings more summer but
Is solid and stoic. Apricots
Have a sudden moment
When flavor is heightened.
Other seasons have a right
To their tastes like when a
Pear is perfect and ripe or
The perrenial apple makes
Its varietal abundance known.
Kindness won't break your heart.
There is room enough for you to
Show care for everyone. Let your
Heart and soul swell with love for
The strange strangers and errant
Fools who populate our world. Be
Kind. Be courteous. Be grateful.
The heart will expand to meet the
New, the sad, the joyful with love,
With kindness. It is a courageous
Organ. Fear might break it, but
Kindness cannot break your heart.
Does love have an expiration date?
A boiling point? A Finis or a c.o.b.?
So many love affairs find a terminus
Or an off-ramp that leads down a
Cliff to an unhappily ever-after no
One anticipated. Unwanted endings
That cannot be glossed over in a new
Chapter are sadder for surprising us
And unwelcome, especially when we
Unexpectedly run into each other
Across town, waiting for gas or picking
Up some Twinkies and chocolate milk
The rioting birds fill the trees.
Spring is, after all, in full swing.
We bob our heads looking where
Their chirps begin, looking as
If we were about to fly away, too
Ready to take wing for a higher
Branch. One hidden by greenery.
What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?
Daily prompt
Jobs are boring, compelling,
Competitive, exciting, tedious.
Jobs are a daily-grind, inspiring,
Inspired. Jobs are what I do, not
Who I am. I am my job. My job,
It's me. I am my work. My job.
The daffodils think highly of
Themselves. They know who
They are. They are the flowers
Of the field and flowers are
To be prized. They are special.
List the people you admire and look to for advice…
A list, no matter how heartfelt,
Is such a boring approach, but I
Get where you're coming from
And where I want to go. My peeps
As I call them, to myself, if not to
Them, are universally patient, and
Unstinting in their help. Always
Of good cheer and right to chide
Or redirect me. I go to them for
A guiding hand, in admiration and
With total gratitude. The list is
Silent but well-known among us.
Opening doors, closing doors,
Moving parts; it's a jumble. I
Look to see if I should slide in
Between what is gained or just
Changed and what is lost. One
Door closes to find a different
Opportunity open up. Where
Does it lead? Whom do I follow?
Where has my poetry flown?
It is at this moment on the
Tip of my tongue, at the tip
Of my fingers. Not quite ready
To emerge as song or theme.
Waiting for inspiration can be
A long wait, yet wait I must
Til it marches forth in words
Both poignant and colorful.
I hope for poetry's wings and
Yes, I wait with the fortitude of
A writer whose muse is near.
Tamara, really