Tag Archives: poem

Day 58 – An Ode to My Bed

21 Aug

bedThere’s nothing more divine than your spongy pillow top
Upon your memory foam I can’t wait to finally flop
After sleeping in other beds for many a night
Delving into your softness will be pure delight

Climbing to your waist-high plateau will be worth it all
once to slumber-land I finally do fall
Your 540 thread count plum coloured sheets
Against my skin will feel so sweet

Your sturdy headboard and solid frame
I know your comfort will feel just the same
While I was away your familiarity I did miss
The sleep I will have tonight will be sweet drowsy bliss

Sleep will definitely not elude
My slumber this night you must not intrude
Because I have missed my bed immensely
Tonight I plan to dream intensely

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Day 54 – The best days

17 Aug

wpid-20140815_201758.jpgIt’s when the storm passes that I notice the beauty in the natural world.
It’s after a bad day when I notice just how amazing it is to be alive.

How beautiful it is to look up into the early evening sky.
I know that the golden rimmed clouds shine for all to see
but not everyone looks and of those who notice,
not everyone is able to perceive their beauty.

In this rare moment, when I am outside, blissfully alone,
I look up at the sky amid the calm after the storm and I know
the best days are yet to come.

Day 37 – Marginal Way

31 Jul

wpid-20140731_182313.jpg

A wooden park bench
along the marginal way,
sweet ocean mist air.

Day 30 – Ephemeral, wafting

24 Jul

back-to-schoolThis is my summer’s halfway point. While we were watching the news on television this morning I saw my first back-to-school commercial. Let’s get this straight, back-to-school is not Christmas. This isn’t anything to get excited about… well, at least not yet. No worries, I’ll be ready, but for right now I’d just prefer not to think about it. Okay?

I took my mother-in-law to have her hair done today and one of the hairdressers commented to me about how quickly the summer seems to be going. The best response I could muster was, “Shhhhhhhhh!”

One of my favourite Emily Dickinson poems talks about the way summer ends:

As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away—
Too imperceptible at last
To seem like Perfidy—
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon—
The Dusk drew earlier in—
The Morning foreign shone—
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest, that would be gone—
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.

It talks about how the weather changes so gradually that you hardly notice that the hours of daylight are getting shorter and shorter with each passing day, so that summer slips away unnoticed and before we know it, it’s over. Maybe I like the poem so much because it’s this romantic notion of the way summer leaves us like it is ephemeral, wafting into the changing colours of the autumn leaves. Wouldn’t that be nice? Unfortunately, my summer always ends abruptly, with a return to work, meetings and responding to bells like Pavlov’s dog. I guess that’s why I find those chipper back-to-school commercials so grating.

Day 26 – Down by the water

20 Jul

wpid-debbies-toes.jpg.jpeg

Down by the water
my soul feels closer to heaven.
There is no tension or strain.
I have a house in the highlands;
I have a place I call home,
but nothing give me that feeling,
that feeling that I belong.

When the winter wears on,
when feeling life’s pain,
I take myself down by the water
and let it sooth my soul.

Down by the water
my mind is happy and free.
There is no worry or fear.
I have a house in the highlands;
I have a place I call home,
but nothing gives me that feeling,
that feeling that I belong.

When the heat beats down,
when the road seems long,
I take myself down by the water
and ease my troubles away.

Down by the water
my heart is light and open.
There is no stress or hate.
I have a house in the highlands;
I have a place I call home,
but nothing gives me that feeling,
that feeling that I belong,
except being down by the water,
by the water where I belong.

When life get hard
and grief takes over,
I take myself down by the water
and return to where I belong.

Day 23 – Haunting Questions

17 Jul

I love when I read something that makes me think beyond the words printed on the page.  It’s great when writers ask questions that stick. Sometimes the most poignant questions don’t need to be answered because it’s the question that matters. How often do you hear a song that just resonates somewhere deep inside you? How about a poem? No? Well, today is your lucky day… no, no, no, don’t go anywhere. I promise, it’ll be worth it, and if you don’t think it was worth it, at least it’s short. One of my favourite poets is William Stafford and the questions he asks in this poem keep me coming back over and over, just like you enjoy listening to a beloved favourite song again and again.

“You Reading This, Be Ready”sunlight

“Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?

Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life.

What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?”

Day 19 – Time Out

13 Jul

wpid-20140713_085103.jpgPuzzle

Sitting on the deck
with our coffee,
admiring our back garden
and talking about life,
makes for the perfect morning.
You fit perfectly
like the last piece
to a beautiful puzzle.

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