Every day starts with a new thought. Today was no different.
The past few days I have woken to water views of The Atlantic. Her blue waves are far worse than mine. The first day we met, I settled into the sun breaking free from her horizon. The warmth cut the chill enough to sit on the deck chair and zen the morning away.
I suppose this morning is a warning that the carefree moments never last longer than a brisk wind’s cold slap to the face. She woke up wild. I woke, arms wrapped around a blanket, hot mug in hand, giving thanks for her hospitality the past week. And for a relationship that has just begun.
Good morning. We got rain yesterday evening, starting around four in the afternoon. The winds came rushing in and we lost power. We needed the rain desperately. So I am very grateful the storm popped up. Here is to a week of cooler temperatures in Mass and hopefully the rain pours. How is the weather by you?
I left a bit of blue in the photographed sky, as a hopeful promise. To escape the blackened feeling of Covid, drought, and people’s unrest, keep peace in your heart this week. Love your neighbor and look up!
Printmakers paper, acrylics, ephemera, found leaves, coffee stains, and a piece of my poetry. With painted pages ready to add additional words, feathers, pressed flowers or leaves, and whatever else a heart desires.
Found in the Lost Pile of Civility (Jan 2019)
Seems to me as we slowly decline we beat around the bush contemplate how to survive.
Generations realize this drift on a sail-less boat the cloth wrapped around our bleeding hearts words confessed on bended knees misses the sliver in private eyes.
Same old, same old story. The beginning is the end. The terror in other's minds now belongs to us. Realize hungry is, as was, and nothing eaten satisfies.
Measure our words against ourselves need I stand upon a soapbox add my rhetoric to humanity's misery?
As ash buries the smoldering coals are we aware we are wandering found among the lost pile of civility?
i recognize not
the girl in a mirror
i should be progressing
but my mind rattles.
here, sit awhile,
i promise not to startle…
then off i dawdle
to find some words,
express my heart
though rather curt
i sought me
lost along the way…
oh, but i found
amusing visions yesterday
(i brought home their cans and put them in the recycle bin.)
toil in my brain,
promptly tempt my lips
with your sexy care
my heart resides
the trash can
ugly and obscene
insides even so…
forgive the past
the broken walk
tripped up feelings
hoping i return -explore
Not sure i belong here… getting a feel! Bathing in WP love from many of you. I oft question my idea that i am a writer. How do i escape what feels like a prison? I get in these rotting moods… where i trash everyone and everything. I want to purge… i purge… than wallow in my loneliness.
Go ahead, throw me back in the pond!
On another front,
a new home,
a new town…
the comfort found
slowing my pace of life.