She Fretted

For years

fear held her captive

as she walked

the long, dingy corridor.

Sweat beaded her forehead

and soaked her fine, gauze dress.

Drenching her in

ITS fetid stench.

"I must escape

this dungeon

of my own making,"

she pined to the floor.

Turning away,

she trod slowly, steadily,

head no longer bent.

Gleaming, she arose

from the inner sanctum

where she'd gathered

 instruments of transformation.

This time 

striding purposefully, forcefully

towards the door.

Eyes no longer focused on the lock.

She forged her escape.

Columns of color 

trailed along familiar pathways,

until, unbidden,

her heart leapt itself upside down.

She had done it,

freed herself from the past.

This poem was written for Magpie #172 

To visit more incredible poets visit

http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Whispers, Carousels, Lollipops and Balloons !!!!

Anyone who knows me

knows I love to play with color.

"If it sits still, mom will paint it!"

my daughter warns anyone 

who enters

the household.

I can't argue.

It's true !!!

*****************************************************************

Yesterday, during a dull

dreary, winter morn,

faint whispers of creativity beckoned me, 

"Come." 

"You have a craving for color, we see."

Threads of ether connect us three.

My ears perked up, "Yes, I think you are correct!"

"You know it feeds your soul, dig deep

and you will connect."

I have learned to listen to the small whispers,

and follow their cue, 

so off to the garage I flew!

I headed into the depths,

began rummaging through,

my not-so-secret stash,

peering into tubs with a view.

I grabbed handfuls of paint tubes,

wearing my favorite hues, 

 then hastened to

my makeshift studio,

to create a doodle-do.

I plopped down the pirate booty,

 perky conduits of color.

They scampered willy-nilly

hoping, I think, 

to confuse and confound her.

Then feverishly, I set to work.

"I won't be undone. You are the Best, 

the Brightest,

and now our work has begun!"

Queen Canvas of Ply Board,

all primed with wonder,

anxiously awaited

her concert of color.

I squinty-eyed the silent tubes

then finally pronounced,

"Who wants to be birthed?

Who is truly, completely ready 

to prance about?"

Iridescent White was first 

to whisper a plea,

"Pick Me! Pick Me!

PLEASE let it be me!!!

I squirted a blob onto fresh, apple green,

grabbed a fan brush,

then swirled, and twirled...

until she danced supreme.

My excitement grew.

Color by color began to squawk.

Light Blue, Dark Blue 

blurted from their tubes

"We're Luscious Lollipops and 

Bouncy Balloons!"

Light Red, Dark Red 

not to be undone,

shouted from their metal jackets,

"We want to be Big, Bigger, Biggest.

We will be second to NONE!"

Pretty Pink

whispered a perky line or two,

"Let me play,

Let me play,

I can bounce like a balloon too!"

Sunset Yellow entered with a trumpet blast,

"Paint me, Paint me, I want to be LAST!"

And with Sun setting atop a whole carousel tune,

I bid you all goodnight.

I bid you adieu.

"Thank you. Thank you 

for playing,

you're fun. 

My

Tints with a Tune

our dance is now done!"

copyright

Sharon Weir

Come Little Sister

Come little sister,

I'll hold your hand.

Let's go together,

into the far land.

 

Our dreams await us,

excitement builds.

 

Skips and giggles,

I'll share with you.

 

Hold long little sister,

I'll guide you through.

 

Come along now

little sister,

I LOVE YOU.

Lazy, Winter Day

 

 

 

It has been snowing for a couple of days,

we have shoveled the walkways,

and the big driveway.

 

Now, it's time to settle down

to a nice murder mystery.

 

Three littles,

one big,

two blankets,

a kindle,

and me.

 

A perfect way to wind down 2012.

Tomorrow's the Eve.

 



After the Storm

My last post on this blog was extremely prophetic. Little did I know the January 31st post would be my last until now, one of the last day's of a momentous 2012 year.

So much has happened in the intervening months, of course, a stupid comment.

The physical world did not end on December 21st, though the personal world I inhabited in the January posts most certainly did cease to exist.

What a year.

 

Don't even want to relive it.

 

I only want to move forward from here.

 

So there !!!!

 

2013, here I come,

 

ready or not.

Atomic Bombs

A bomb went off today,
I felt it as it neared.

Experience
rang true.

"It's your fault,"
They said.

Could not steel the heart,
though desperately I tried.

I do not speak their language,
being a foreigner
in a strange, new land.

I come from
A land of long ago.

One soon to come
for them.

A bomb went off today.
It blasted loud and clear.

The battle cry sang out,

Prepare for your burial!
WE ARE HERE.

I Give You

Red Spot II, Wassily Kadinsky

I give you my heart

rent from my chest.

It no longer belongs to me.

I see 

it excites you.

You make music

from horns,

and beat drums

declaring your victory. 

 

I beg you,

be gentle.

For IF

you drop a beat,

I will return,

to reclaim

my lifeblood.

Be gentle.

I do not wish

to dance,

nor sing

a solo life tune.

For Magpie #102 http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/2012/01/mag-102.html