I will take this day
just as it has come to me
and make it my own.
I will see the world
through eyes bereft of judgement
and life will be good.
And when the day ends
I will smile and say ‘goodnight’
and I will mean it.
#119
Category: A New Poem Every Morning #2
Things
Things worth pursuing;
sun beams and prism rainbows.
Things worth sharing;
warm touch and laughter.
Things worth giving away;
forgiveness and praise.
Things worth keeping;
true love and memories.
#118
Calendars
It’s that day when the sun comes out
and melts the skiff of snow into muddy
puddles and the sky is that soft shade
of blue and you can’t remember
whether it’s late fall or
early spring.
That’s when you catch a fleeting glimpse
of why calendars are such
stupid things.
#117
Rings
When I sleep I dream of things
I’ll get done today, brass rings
I’ll grasp, grand schemes come true,
the looking glass I’ll sally through.
But now I find, once I’m awake,
my plans are slightly more prosaic.
Like tiling walls, then, if I choose,
installing a new low flush loo.
I’ll do the things within my grasp
Though my brass ring be made of wax.
#116
Nature’s Song of Light and Dark
Darkness drains between the branches,
spills across the forest floor,
hides in shade of crumbling logs
left from trees that went before.
Hides in shadowed nooks and crannies
hidden on the forest floor.
Brightly singing sunshine rises
pushes darkness farther back
hounding shadows into hiding
into deepest, darkest cracks,
as if day were in denial
that the night could e’re come back.
But soon enough the song will change
as sunshine slides away to sleep
and the shadows all unwind
to begin their upward sweep.
Cooling breath that sings the scales
from earth to sky in upward sweep.
Night to day and night again
the endless dance continues on,
and though our brains try to ignore it,
hearts beat out the ancient song.
Long to dance in light and shadow,
Long to beat to nature’s song.
#115
What it’s For
When it’s dark I can believe
that there are still leaves on the trees
and blossoms bloom outside my door.
That’s what imagination’s for.
And when I close my eyes and see
my long lost friends and family
I’m not so lonely anymore.
That’s what memory is for.
And when the world looks far too grim
I load my paintbrush to the brim
and paint a new world to explore.
That’s what inspiration’s for.
#114
I hereby invoke the power of my poetic license to absolve me of the guilt in ending sentences prepositions with.
Word Geek
‘Eye to eye’ means I agree
with you, and you with me
and ‘nose to nose’
might come to blows
though not usually.
‘Toe to toe’ means no holds barred
(There’ll probably be scars)
But ‘cheek to cheek’
is kinda sweet
when dancing ‘neath the stars.
So I’ll ‘be all eyes’ and ‘follow my nose’,
I’ll make sure I ‘stay on my toes’,
and if you call me a ‘word geek’
I’ll simply ‘turn the other cheek’
#113
I Was
I was like a paint by numbers
missing half the pots of paint,
sporting blank white blotches
on my soul.
You came along and carefully
filled in the empty spaces,
with the colours of your love
you made me whole.
I was like an empty window
looking blankly at the world,
impervious to sunshine
and to rain.
Till you hung a prism inside
and a whirligig beyond
and I discovered how to
live again.
I was like an empty suitcase
living on forgotten memories
until you packed your heart
inside of me.
And I promise that I’ll keep it
safe and locked away from pain
and only you and I will
have the key.
#112
Really?
Some would have us all believe externals do not matter,
that everything resides within and we control our fate.
the former may be true but I tend to doubt the latter
‘cause minus forty’s deadly no matter what your mental state.
It isn’t safe to disregard what’s really real around you
and think you can control the laws of physics with your mind,
but yes, you can ignore the window dressing that surrounds you
and walk right by the foolish ads, if you are so inclined.
The trick, it seems to me, is knowing what is or isn’t real
and knowing what to pay attention to, or leave alone.
Adjust yourself to fit the facts no matter how you feel.
Adjust the fiction to fit yourself and all the stress is gone.
#111
It’s a Freakin’ Winter Wonderland Out There
The woods outside my window
that not too long ago
were green and lush and filled with birds
are now just filled with snow.
I’m hoping this is just a drill
a sloppy, wet ‘dry run’
‘cause I’m not done with autumn yet,
there’s still a lot of fun
I haven’t had and bonfires
I never got to light.
It’s still too soon to trade the leaves of gold
for piles of white.
If I was in charge of things,
if I could have my say,
snow would fall on Christmas week
then quickly melt away.
Brisk autumn weather would prevail
with lots of sunny skies.
But nature is a fickle twit
who likes to improvise.
The woods outside my window
are white but I still dream
that twixt Chinooks and El Nino
we may still see some green.
We all cope in different ways
to overcome our trials,
so for the next six months I think
I’ll slip into denial.
# 110
Linda Studley 