Childhood Joys

  

well-loved children with sparkling eyes,

rosy cheeks, and happy smiles

glittering with unbounded joy

freely bestowing generous hugs and

warm kisses that leave cheeks glistening

with reminders of their passing.

laughter peels from hallway rooms,

giggles rising to the gloriously blue sky,

caressing souls, nourishing hearts

better than steak and potatoes

or a well-read book.

warm arms, tickling fingers

and conversations uninhibited by age.

playground games fairly played

indoors under the watchful eyes

of guardian parents, checking safety,

guarding friendships from the

ills of sibling rivalry.

growing up together in love.

meals broken and shared.

prayers offered with heartfelt sincerity.

special times protecting doors

to teenage rebellion, that tears

families apart, breaking hearts

and erasing the good times shared.

for now, though, life is good.

quiet times of reflection broken only

by stories told and songs sung.

well-love children with sparkling eyes,

rosy cheeks, and happy smiles

glittering with unbounded joy.

Commitment

the story of a marriage

is one of

trials

and

tribulations

forgiveness

and

letting go

of errors made

love

and

anger

compromise

and

patience

walking together

through life

sharing times

good

and

bad

most of all

reveling

in each other’s

company

until death

do us part

   A Sensitive Soul

I was born with a sensitive soul:

hurt covers me like icy water,

leaving me shaken and weak,

unable to walk, to function

as a human being.

 

I weep when others sniffle,

sob when some merely dab their eyes.

inside fires rage and water boils

with an intensity measured

by the Richter scale.

 

Pain strikes like an axe

falling hard on my furrowed brow,

bringing me to my knees

begging for the waves to pass

and peace to come.

 

While some quietly rage, I boil over,

spreading my doom and gloom

everywhere my eyes travel,

making my presence felt.

Discomforting others.

 

Harboring my hurts

like a mother sheltering her young

I cradle them, caress them,

nurture them until splinters grow into

full-blown trees.

 

Letting go is not easy.

I preach forgiveness, but find

clinging vines cover my heart, blocking

my arteries, cutting off oxygen,

inhibiting rationality.

 

The good news is that time heals.

Positive memories release pain

allowing stories to cry away the hurts.

New days begin with hope

for those like me, born with

a sensitive soul.