Our Lucy

It is 8 sentence Sunday. Writers submit 8 sentence snippets or poems each week. You can see more here, at Weekend Writing Warriors.

I have no introduction for this poem.

Our Lucy

I want to see you

But you are not here

I see you everywhere in my minds eye

My heart, it’s too hard

Please come back one more day - romp and be naughty

Bug me at my desk, sit on my keyboard

Sit on my papers

Jump on Panda and chase her

I spin you on the desk chair, while you swat at my fingers

You purr, incessantly

You pounce on a mouse outside

And play with it for hours, leaping straight up in the air

Please come back

You are not ever coming back.

Quick Little Ditty

This came to me today, based on something that my sweetie said to me in a text this morning.


When sticky doesn't mean
Goopy
Messy
Or childlike.
No matter what,
When my soul is soaring,
Or mired in the troubles of the day,
My mind
Pivots,
Inevitably,
Towards light and gentleness.
You hold the hand of my heart,
And I yours.
Stuck on you, baby,
I am.

My Mom Has Cancer

It is 8 sentence Sunday. Writers submit 8 sentence snippets or poems each week. You can see more here, at Weekend Writing Warriors.

I have no words to introduce this entry...written in mid-February...

My Mom Has Cancer.
It's sinking in.
I sit
Holding my breath without meaning to,
Reflecting,
On nothing.
I don't know
How.
My heart
Is a little bit broken.
I stand and feel my feet on the floor.
Oh dear God, I love her so.

Arctic Day-Poem for the Week

It is 8 sentence Sunday. Writers submit 8 sentence snippets or poems each week. You can see more here, at Weekend Writing Warriors.

Here's this week's entry. Heavy on my mind, is one of my dear high school friends, whose beloved dad passed away last Friday. My heart has been sad and heavy, not only for his passing, but also because she lives out of town. In times like this, I seek comfort and assurance for her and for me.

I was out driving, doing errands, when this poem hit me. It is untitled.


Swirling, clean and pure Like the driven snow, Fresh, pervasive, There is a presence. There are presences. Subzero outside, Yet I am warm And filled Goodness Light Angels in our midst In my midst.

Passages

It is 8 sentence Sunday. Writers submit 8sentence snippets or poems each week. You can see more here, at Weekend Writing Warriors. 

My offering for this week:
Some days as I reflect, I am filled with hope. Our waves, in life: challenges, love, tears, nerves, and so forth, roll through, but in the end, I really feel like I am in a better place than before. And of course, I have a ways to go. My path has brought me here, to hope and joy. Today.

This one is Untitled. Hope you like it.


Getting clean and true, 
Helps me see things a new way. 
Wonders are revealed,
Nature sings with life, 
Instead of being a washed out backdrop. 
Oh, the joy of a vibrant yellow and orange sunrise, 
The day crackling with promise. 
Or the brilliant moon, Etched in a deep blue sky. 
The morning dew dancing happily on the foliage, 
The cheerful song of the wren trills over and over, without end. 
 Living clean and true washes my soul, 
To reflect out. 
We stoop under the weight of mistakes, regrets, worries and fear, 
Shame our vision clouds. 
Mercy finds us through naked disclosure. 
I see now more clearly, 
Pause and drink in the moment, 
Free.

To Steal a Kiss

It's the Sunday 8-Sentence snippet. A talented group of writers post and share an excerpt or a work in 8 sentences. Check out the other submissions here: Weekend Writing Warriors 

This week's poem: Ah...sweet, new love...need I say more?


To Steal a Kiss

To steal a kiss--
If only.
There you are,
Across the room.
My heart launches
Out towards you.
Those moments,
Private tenderness,
Sustain me.
But
There you are,
So close, and yet more distant than I wish.
I touch you with my gaze,
Or try.
When will I hold you again?
I close my eyes
And dream...

Birthday Girl

It's time for this week's poem.

The past several years have been eventful for me, with experiences and discovery spanning life's highs and lows. My dad, at the age of 80, was diagnosed with end stage lung cancer. It took less than a year to claim his life.

Last year I came to the realization after decades of marriage, that it absolutely was not serving me, and I found myself navigating through separation and divorce. It did not go well. But today I am free and living authentically.

Yesterday was my birthday, and on a flight to my hometown, I looked out the window, and the sky, as it often does, reminded me of my dad, whom I adore.


Sky

Landscape mosaic below me,
Sparkling blue with infinite haze before me,
My mind turns to you -
What lies in your day today?
The time space continuum molts and pulls-
Instead of "today", there is: always.
Do I please you?
I hear your voice, expressing your love and pride in my life's work: my family.
It is still in my heart - dread and fear no longer reign.
Your joy in me, your love, is -
It always will be.
Now I know.
Dadems, I miss you - the bittersweet lies at opposing axes.
I know.


For more Weekend Writing Warriors submissions, go here.

My view as I wrote the poem: