Some May Say

Some may say
put down the brush,
cover the typewriter,
let it gather dust;
ballerina slippers
on the top shelf of the closet,

but, they don’t see the colors
illuminating from your brush
showering a canvas;

words spilling from fingertips,
lighting every shadowed place

and the glitter
that fills the atmosphere,
with each twirl of the skirt,

with each stroke,
another breath of youth
inhaled.

..

.

.Don’t let anyone tell you that it’s too late or you are too old or any other negative words to hinder your creativity. Express yourself! We all have gifts that we were given to make the world a more beautiful place. Without them, it would be a very dull place. ❤️Day 30 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month) …. I am so late but I did finish. We had a lot of family events recently so I give myself grace.

Decluttering

The only polaroids of you
are in my mind,
appearing and reappearing;

flashbacks of memories
not stored in any album
or box on the top shelf
of the closet.

Some chapters
are better left unread,
some books, closed

and placed in the bin

with other items
we wish to forget.

.

DAy 29 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month) I fell behind due to family events but still wanted to finish!

Unearthing

They sashayed in,
unsuspecting,
avoiding the edge,
while the innermost
chapters
went unread

until looking closer
into the unraveling,

fragile strands
reaching, like ivy,
enticing some form
of sustenance,

while unearthing
the garden

of flowers.

.

Day 28 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

Post-a-Notes

Words caught up in a cocoon
form a knot in my stomach,
hardened,

yellowed with time,

They say, let it go,
so I cover my ears
hoping every syllable
from your lips
disappears,

but the fragments
affix themselves
to post-a-notes
and stick inside my head
where my unspoken words
lie dormant

in a place
they can’t do damage

to any psyche but my own.

.

.
Day 27 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

In Defense of April

Some say April
is the saddest month,
raindrops filling fields,
storm warnings
ruining picnics,

but I say to you, April,
you prepare the soil,
for beauty to flourish,
your blossoms in waiting
for a new season to flower,

just when May sashays in,
blooms, bursting at the seams,
tossing away umbrellas

taking all the credit
for Spring.

Thoughts on Her Graduation Day

First of September,
little flower,
first bud shone in the sun,
into a sprout, twirling,

tiny ballerina
dancing her way
into our hearts.

Pretty, pink blossom,
springing up;
unique,
precious pearl.

Years flew by and she-
a rose in full bloom
on tiptoes,
reaching for the stars,
bending to the earth
in pirouette,
blowing kisses to the sky;

her gifts,
sparkle and shine
all for his glory.

Remnants

Since youth,
feeling like an outcast,
head in a book of poetry;

a book of psalms,

songs resounding
from headphones
escaping the noise;
the clamor of feet

with sweet words

to soothe
a breaking heart.

.

.
Day 24 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

Catapult (Vignette)

I.
Hold on, but not too tight
to feel the wind ruffle your feathers,
let life drag you through the mud,
pull you out again
just to let you fall

six more times, each time further
from the comfort of home.

II.
Roll over and gaze at the stars
Inhale birdsong from the atmosphere
exhale until you realize
how minuscule we are
in the scheme of things.

III.
Joy makes mountains move,
swaying in contentment
with a gentle tug of the heart,

but, valleys
are where lessons in adversity
leave an imprint,
pierce the skin with an ache
that makes you spring up
from normalcy;

stretch your boundaries
past stars you can’t see clearly
from here.

.

.
Day 23 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month.)

Unabridged

Take me to the rock
where we can stand,
out of the world’s view,

counting constellations,

speaking in poetry,
unrehearsed, uninhibited,

an unabridged book of love;

our names stitched across the sky
like scars that healed in time.

.

.
Day 22 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

Let Love

The past stands in the corner
like a ghost,
waits outside in the fog
to trip you up
when you least expect it.

Why can’t we let go;
loosen the chains
that link us
to them

and all the pain between us,

stitch a string of hearts
like drops of poetry
to feed the stars,

let love
bind up every shadowed place;

keep the darkness outside.

‘

‘
Day 21 of NaPoMo (a poem a day I April for National Poetry Month)

Bow Out

She recognized the smile,
the high cheekbones,
his blue eyes looking back,

but that is where the similarities
ended,

brief was the elation,
the joy in something found,
then lost,

but when one door slams,
another opens,
this time, wide enough

to let the light in.

.
.
Day 20 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

Unforgotten Lyrics

How can a poet vanish
and reappear like the sun
words resting behind clouds,

sliding down mountains;
metaphor catching on branches,
latching to leaves,
falling in raindrops
and snowflakes on the tongue?

I see you in rivers
running soft, then rapid
across rocks you once skipped

when laughter was prevalent,
and song was relevant
before the lament

beyond the lyrics of you.

.

.
Day 19 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)