Fight
for where
the breath
you take
comes
with ease
Audacity
Tag Archives: Poetry
Spirit of the Day
the concern within my eyes –
twilight assumes as its own,
my faith breathes.
gone is nearly today, as dust billows
life continues, work sets the pace
the echoes of yesterday
further behind, as tomorrow
eagery awaits.
Cicadas joyful within the trees,
remembering to honor those
before the sun sets,
pups howl against the breeze.
Light, use your glow,
dusk determines goodnight –
we’ll pause – alongside the tea kettle.
The future, only God knows, yet I whisper ideas as
the spirit of the day settles.
Dreamer
colorful oyster
topography limiting
history repeats
Quite A Shock
she walked along a careful breeze
trying not to upset those she
thought she needed
laughter distanced itself
from her
worth noting the invisibility
fought against a fierce wind
which made her curls
slap her nose, then
silliness of it all encouraged
her tiny nose twitch and dimples to take flight
the giggles were quite a shock
Natural Leisure
wrapped tightly now
opportunity hydrates
freedom giggling
Supernumerary
window wide open
faithful love escapes vastness
wimpering echoes
Innocence
I am the girl
who holds every word
received
in her hands.
Searches each paragraph
with hope,
of finding a piece
adoration for me.
Your Power
When days drag, here in the office alone and the optimism is low,
There’s this; your quick video of the open road.
My smile begins across the eyes, a sparkle creates a giggle, my mind senses your truth.
I’m not there but I feel the energy you often exude.
A tractor trailer rolls on down the road, spit causes the shine, and your power is felt by everyone as you drive along by.
Yet, Little Deuce Coupe, is the tune you’re singing, tapping your cowboy boot against the pedal: a musical pair unlike any other.
And I grin, because I’m proud of you, who you are, and wish I was riding along, Big Brother.
Nebraska’s Emerging Writers – An Anthology
Two years ago I was approached by a publishing company and asked if I would be interested in submitting a short story for an anthology being created by Z Publishing House.
I submitted a story I had shared many years ago and it was accepted.
The head space I was in at the time didn’t allow for traditional excitement over the process, nor did it increase my personal productivity for having been asked.
When the anthology shipped to my house, instead of authentic joy over my name being included with other writers, I chose to pretend the publishing didn’t happen and hid my face.
I didn’t and don’t receive compensation for having been included, however, this process started something else entirely.
Soon, friends, very soon. ♡
Hope is Still There
my emotions, ever present;
continue,
some linger creating a smile
others invite weakness,
which in time fades, as I press
further into the day.
the hope is still there, the daydreaming;
visions of what could be, dancing before me.
Although out of reach,
there’s knowledge love belongs to many,
and I’m grateful to have witnessed.
Treasure
treasures kept sheltered
harbored closely within
delicate layers possibly
sought after, one day
keenly aware, yet
hesitant to believe in
their existence,
he’ll seek
may she be found adequate,
even desirable,
arguably – his purpose,
one day
Passion
The author wrote as if she had met the one I crave, finding him perfectly secure, genuine and honest before her.
She noticed the same details as I, and it shatters me to realize someone sees in him what I do and she may have the chance at a forever.
Which means I’m expendable, just one in hundreds of options.
Ha! Not that I ever stood a chance, I knew the minute we met he’d never settle for less than perfection.
He wouldn’t need to, because he was capable on his own and I added nothing he craved.
In Her Nature
*cardinal calling “here, here”
*cardinal calling “here, here”
Me: I hear you.
*cardinal calling “here, here”
*cardinal calling “here, here”
Me: Where are you?
*standing outside looking up about to get into the car*
*cardinal calling “here, here”
*cardinal calling “here, here”
Me: There you are up in my tree!
*two cardinals fly away happily*
Me: I see you! *calling out in a squeal*
My Young Redhead: *exasperated, yet looking*
Momma, they aren’t five year olds!?!
Me: *sighs* I sounded like Snow White, didn’t I?
My Young Redhead: *giggles*
No, just you being you, Momma
Me: *smiles* Not so bad, is it?
…and our eyes continued to shine.
The Beholder
Driving the farthest eastern reaches of the Sandhills as this scene beckoned. Was it the water, sunset or hills calling names? The topography, a sensuous mastermind, plays within thoughts while memories flood the present.
How dare it.
Just as beauty sets in, and atop the already gorgeous scene, to share this – would have been the only cherished wish left to whisper. A hand held. Hard kiss, even tug of the hair and a reminding of the natural, even recommended design for an alliance.
Useless comes to mind, but doesn’t it always? Untrustworthy. Less than. Nothing deemed attractive found near not even near, by not just one, but from many.
Wicked is fate as she tosses over another just out of reach, if only the physical qualities found irresistible and encouraged were obtainable by another’s remnants. Would life continue to offer beauty with hopes someone might see?
Sprucing Up The Place
deteriorating wall
color combinations weak
periscope, maybe
***
A few housecleaning details for y’all today. I am aware it is Friday, and nobody likes cleaning on the edge of a weekend, but I needed to say thanks for all the recent follows. AND thank you for not giving up on my poetry.
The giggles are returning which is always a good sign. I’ve been writing a lot, but mostly I’ve been working. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. This past year has been incredibly busy with churches closed for many.
When the inevitable occurred it made my day job 100% harder.
I have become quite familiar with bells, whistles, bright lights, more technology, post offices, zoom, louder microphones and standing on my head. I’ve never been accused of having a case of “the look at me’s” so you can imagine what having to do so did for my soul.
My creativity took a beating as did all my relationships.
I’ll be sprucing up the place and working on updating my pages, as I focus on getting things ready for an announcement many have waited years to hear.
Find beauty in your weekend my loves,
Aud
Mellow Flora
bits of sparkle,
the color of mellow,
wild: her mortal teaser.
bouquet of modesty,
prairie grass her fringe,
yet, a classic beauty.
Caught
Encapsulated
Winter’s perfect protector
Autumn was weeping
Felted Armor
delicate felted petals
her armor, really.
bravery: to go it alone,
not what she had envisioned,
but it is, so she’s trying.
some say, “she made it.”
local soil, a lovely bed, complete transparency.
spreading light for those seeking,
while awaiting destiny, is
all that’s left.
Plea of Surmount
thunder sounds like the past
why do I listen?
deep moans of the rumble
cause an aching below, one
I no longer yearn for,
but I do. Passion find me
determined, my plea.
