I waited awhile for your smile,
perhaps too long.
It never came until too late.
I shall never know
why you made me wait
until I said, “I’ll
be going now.”
Your face lit up in joyful prose
and told me all I needed to know.
Tag Archives: loneliness
AUTUMN NIGHTS
Nights are too short, dear
when you are here.
Nights are too long
when you are gone.
Morning weeps humidity.
Birds sing sad songs.
Bees wander aimlessly.
The sun hides a weary face.
Voices sound too loud.
Emptiness becomes full measure
of the hearts lost treasure.
Garden critters stay hidden.
Fruit on the vines wither,
bitten open, useless, forbidden.
Your leave-taking reminds.
The world can be coldly unkind.
You rose with the dawn.
Showered, and now, are gone.
Filed under POETRY
LEAD WITH THE HEART
Lead with the heart
and the mind will follow
a path of peace and hope,
strong enough to carry
dreams and generosity
for all those you meet.
No matter how difficult
the journey it will not be taken
alone, silently, fearfully.
The heart knows best what matters.
The heart knows the best path.
The heart unites us joyfully.
The heart beats life determinedly.
The heart overcomes strife.
Lead with the heart and do your part
to create a world worth living.
Some paths are famous and large.
Some paths are unrecognized and small.
Every path matters to those
who walk it and make it their own.
Every path converges as we move
into the great unknown.
Filed under POETRY
THE AGE OF PRETEND
We find it charming, not alarming,
when children pretend.
The young boy child,
towel tied beneath his chin
and spread across small shoulders
waves an imaginary sword high
and suddenly feels bolder;
his power felt from head to toe,
ready to defeat any foe.
The young girl child,
Her American Girl doll in tow,
and dressed for the next chapter
she reads in her book which will show
how she can claim her place
in a world within her safe space.
It is a world of their own.
Children too often feel alone.
Childhood play is a godsend
when the acceptance of fear
is boldly met by playing pretend.
It does not stop at adulthood
when we need for ourselves to fend
and parents’ efforts subside
as children claim adult pride.
Adults, too, need a reprieve
from threats vaguely perceived.
The woman alone in her bed
seeking a strong chest
upon which to lay her head,
clutches her pillow instead
to lessen her dread.
She seeks a strong arm
to lessen her alarm.
The man alone on his couch,
in front of the TV, leaps from a crouch
and shouts with untamed glee
when the quarterback throws free
and the opponent is defeated,
the pass completed.
The victory becomes his own.
At every age we pretend
to overcome what we fear,
what we do not feel strong enough to overcome,
what we imagine might cause unknown harm,
what we cannot imagine we can handle alone.
We are never, really, fully grown.
We fear we shall always be denied
the connected love our hearts need most.
We pretend the pride which allows us to hide.
What if, we stopped pretending?
What if we reached out for community?
What if we sought requited love in unity?
We live in an age of pretend.
When and where will it end?
Filed under POETRY
MERE POSSESSION
Being part of a collection
may not be
lack of true affection.
In truth, it may mean
one is a treasured possession.
Such lonely, lonely honor
disturbs connection.
Dust gathers on the shelf
as one is admired upon occasion,
and coats the confident self
in dismay and utter confusion.
Untouched, unfelt,
as time passes, hearts
become too hard to melt.
Harder to recall all one felt.
Until one feels
nothing at all.
Filed under POETRY
THREE HUGS A DAY
The need for connection
upon reflection
explains the violence
unleashed in silence
within the soul, combined
with alienation of the mind.
Touch is such a powerful greed.
Three hugs a day is all we need.
Yet, too many wait endlessly
for a single, tender touch, daily.
If love does not connect us over too many days
we struggle to find connection in other ways.
The eyes of the lonely tell a story
of diminished worth, and the loss of glory
that belongs to every human being,
and keeps us from loving and truly seeing
the lonely person cowering inside;
afraid to show their loss of pride.
Shouting never brings us closer.
Flying fists simply make us cower.
Violent words have hurtful power.
We hide away from the course force
of those afraid to share lonely discourse.
Hugs would be better
to bring us together.
You may think this only a woman’s view.
I assure you men need hugs, too.
So, hug three people today.
Do not let false pride get in your way.
Thus, three hugs will come to you
and peace may one day be renewed.
Filed under POETRY
THE NARCISSIST
IN LOVE
what goes around
comes around
in never-ending
ripples of affection
and deep attention
one to the other.
Love is communion,
the gasping union
of recognizing self
in one another.
Love is only love
when it is both
given and accepted.
Love that goes one way
is not love at all;
but manipulation
and destruction
of any chance for union.
Love that goes one way
inevitably rings false,
a masterful deception
which destroys communion.
Narcissism gives nothing,
but takes all it can get
and more, of those who
cannot accept love
in all its forms and favor.
Accepting love is too hard
for those who are its stranger.
Accepting love warns them
of the past disappointments
when their hearts were in danger.
The narcissist breeds more fear,
and warns them to resist
the call for love both given and received.
In this way, he deceives.
He alone is worthy of love and safe,
so in his arms they place
every dream of being loved.
Love must go both ways.
Always.
One-way love is not love at all.
It only brings destruction and our fall.
Alone, and unloved, we remain after all.
Filed under POETRY
TOO LATE TO FALL
The days are too short and I am too late to Fall.
Already squirreled away are days of memories.
Flights of fancy replace flights of geese as I stray
along paths emptied of those I loved and knew.
No masks can hide the loss of smiles
stolen by chronic illness and despair
that movie theaters, museums and restaurants
will ever be safe for those who struggle to stay well.
Longer nights are a blessing in disguise,
where one can hide the lack of company
and loneliness subsides.
Too late to Fall. Too ill to conceive a winter
depleted of all company.
With the sun hope rises, only to set too soon.
In the midst of all this, it is too late to Fall.
Only so many years are left to share
with friends and family, if I dare, at all.
I am too old, too sick,
too late to Fall.
Filed under POETRY
AGING
A single year’s length
has deprived me of the strength
seventy-four years built.
Like sand it has been seeping
from muscles knotted and bemused
by excess effort and misuse
and a lifetime of abuse
by Amazonian female dreams
of living by independent means.
Of course, all is not lost
and I need not count the cost
since enough strength remains
to tend what I must
before this lovely body
bites the dust.
Filed under POETRY
BY THE GATE
I stand by the gate and yearn.
I did not build the fence.
It serves a purpose, I suppose.
I did not build the gate.
There was no intent to close
the being standing here inside.
I stand by the gate and yearn,
by the gate which keeps you away.
It has no lock.
You could lift the latch.
But, you simply wave and walk by.
I stand by the gate and yearn.
For what, I no longer know.
It was not always so.
There was a time
when you would have leapt over
the fence, the gate, any enclosure.
Now, you walk by and wave.
I remember now. I yearn
for you.
Filed under POETRY
