Tempest of Hate

Frenetic winds of chaos
Blowing in our face
An ever-growing frenzy
Throwing us in a daze
Stunned, a few wonder
At this tempest of hate;
Where did we learn to
Speak in tongues false
Write in crooked ways
When did we go silent
And chose to turn away?
Is there hope still
For truth and trust,
To recover our lexicon,
Or all is lost in this storm?

Addiction

My mind melts, like ice on sherbet
Under a pink moon
In a summer glaze
A resolve that breaks
A resilience that fails
Poison on the rocks
Trickling into nooks
Golden liquid, crimson tears
Soothing with shallow intoxication
Pain of the mind, not of the soul!

Balancing Act

I am wandering, wondering
How to balance life
To surrender or strive
To capture the moment
Or let the memories fly by!
In the space between thoughts
Where I often feel lost
I am seeking answers
To saunter, gallop, or stop?

Daily Grind

Sublime requests
Of my creative mind
Overturned by demands
Of a cerebral strife.
Shackled to cubicles,
Paints and brushes
Paper and ink
Yarn and hooks
Painfully exchanged
For butter and bread.
Amusing musings
Garrulous silence
Thoughts playing
Hide and seek in
My restive mind
Wanting to break free
Of the daily grind.
Unfinished pages now
Brittle and yellow
Mocking blank canvas
Waiting for a splatter
Of pictures and words.
My mind is where
I left the crochet hook
An unfinished work
I can’t wait to unravel
Start the lace afresh
As new patterns emerge.

Wrinkled Memories

Time after time
I return to the glade
Of joyous thoughtscape
Silver dandelion
Golden sunrays
Aroma of a picnic lunch
Love notes in the basket
In windswept letters
On fragile paper
Gossamer stories
Of loving, leaving, longing
Blowing in the breeze
With yellow petals
Wrinkled memories

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