Pitter patter in my heart of gold
As it’s stepped on and stomped apart
You’re too broke down to carry me
My head is so full of what’s been said
I cannot fathom each day without you
Your words like a circle in my mind
They just keep going round and round
Will I ever be okay?
via Daily Prompt: Circle
The fear inside screaming out loud
You find yourself in the middle of pain
Looking for that tiny little shroud
Of hope…keeping you steady and sane
Torn up… on the deep of your insides
Causing your heart to feel panicked
Your mind going on roller coaster rides
You find yourself feeling quite manic
Struggling…not able to breathe in and out
The pressure on your shoulders hold you down
Teetering on what is real or what it’s all about
You feel like your under…ready to drown
via Daily Prompt: Panicked
If you have one
You’ve only just begun
You don’t wanna jump the gun
Because we are just beginning the fun
It’s better to have something
Because all of nothing is none
Some of something is some
A lot of many things can be a ton
Time to run!
via Daily Prompt: None
My virtual world sometimes takes over my real world. It has a control of me that I cannot explain. I make all these plans to get tasks done, and then hours pass with me still playing my games.
There will be more posts tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who has followed me and commented. The control shall be mine tomorrow…I hope! 🙂
via Daily Prompt: Control
She walked in the door
Dressed in all her splendor
Her look caught his wandering eye
He went to her with candor
She outstretched her hand towards him
A merry meet on her mind
He balanced the soft of her hand at his lips
Bringing an explosion of energy so divine
Her knees went weak
His kiss trailed up her arm
No intentions of stopping him
No need to throw the alarm
A new feeling filling up her heart
Her past brought nothing but tears
She could get used to the treatment
An apprentice to his love for years
via Daily Prompt: Apprentice
via Daily Prompt: Yarn
Whenever I think of yarn, I think of my grandmother. She was always crocheting something beautiful. She would sit there on her little love seat, no matter the season, and craft away at a new blanket with her yarn purse at her side. Her crochet basket was always full of so many colors, needles, and patterns…granny squares covered the cloth bottom.
She had a small closet under the stairway that went upstairs, and it had shelves stacked from top to bottom. Guess what was in there? Oodles and oodles of yarn organized by colors filled the shelves, of course, all protected by mothballs. It looked like a closet of rainbows. As a child, the scent of the mothballs mixed ith the yarn was a pleasant one. I loved walking into that closet and seeing all the different reams of string that she had picked up.
I remember we would go to K-Mart specifically to get yarn. I was always excited to do this because I got to pick out some spools of it too. She liked Red Heart, and I liked anything that felt soft and fluffy. I would usually get the calico colors…the ones that changed as you pulled them out of the spool.
We’d check out and head back home. Then she would put her new yarn in her basket, make me something to eat, and get to work on her new project.
Man, I miss her so much. I see her face now smiling with that needle in hand…a cigarette burning in the ashtray on the side table. It’s such a good memory…one I haven’t had for a while.
via Daily Prompt: Perfume
The smell of your skin
Lingering upon mine
That sweet scent of love
I sniff and reminisce
Your essence like perfume
Bringing memories to illuminate within
Radiating to all my senses
Luring me to breathe you in
Longing for more time with you
I find myself craving your presence
You’re my love drug…
I can’t get enough
Knackered and sprawled out across my bed, I weep
All these aches and pains are making me weak
My muscles feel weary and my tendons tight
My body full of insomnia and keeping me up all night
Tears upon my pillow and blankets cast aside
Tossing and turning and flopping like an ocean’s tide
My neck feels kinked and my shoulder is stressed
Should I give up and just go get dressed?
I’ll try once more to attend to my slumber
But I believe the sheep I’m counting have my number
Struggling to find comfort in my sleigh of sleep
Finally, it’s over! Now don’t make a peep!
I sat there staring at the blanket of flowers
Laying upon my father’s grayish, silver casket
Roses, carnation, and tiny baby’s breath
The greenery accenting their beauty
It was closed.
I couldn’t see him.
Are you in there, Dad?
All I can see are the flowers.
A blanket of them keeping you safe.
The preacher’s words flew through me
Bringing tears to my eyes as he spoke
Still, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the box
Covered with a spray of beauty
Thinking this was still all a big mistake.
It wasn’t though.
You are really gone.
I miss you.
I need you.
I love you.
Watch now as the words come to me in rhymes
You’re my inspiration from deep inside.
You cover me with your love.
Your words guide me and lead me here.
Your my blanket of flowers keeping me safe.
Electrified from the fury of the storm
A lone tree stands under attack
No longer will its limbs be able to form
Once so thick and full of life
It’s roots traumatized by the flash
Dug into the ground bound to strife
Dying little tree with just a jolt
Helpless after the fury of the light
The roots have no hope after that bolt
The tree that stood proud now water drunk
Withering away with each passing day
With its bark laying at its trunk
As I was sitting here attempting today’s daily post, I was having trouble finding a direction. Just when I had backspaced and written and backspaced again, a bolt of lightning struck right outside my window. It was so loud I can still hear it echoing in my ear. It hit a beautiful tree that I spend time looking at when gazing out of my window, so this poem is for that tree.
Daily Prompt: Roots