Where has that rose-scent – heady gone?
Has it dried and blown away?
Leaving just the husks left behind –
Like from Miss Havisham’s wedding day?
Or have they been picked with bright intent –
And now with tears – gone far away?
Like the blooms of which Pete Seeger sang
On tombstones now displayed
Where has that rose-scent – heady gone?
May they fresh in your vase be found –
Each day with enduring and pure emotion
And may you with your loved one dwell
Roses a symbol of an undying devotion
Photo Challenge #323
When feelings long buried – towards the surface climb
When dark and painful memories – their ugly heads rear
When emotions overwhelming – from within you explode
Remember peace and comfort are for you – ever near
There is for you – One – who unlike any other –
All of these burdens – will help you bear
And there are among your sisters and your brothers
Those who will bestow their love, and show you that they really care
“Honey do” and Honey don’t
Every word – to be obeyed
Even if contradictory
Leaving you dismayed
You may think you’ve heard it all before
Same old thing – on another day
Have you listened close enough
To think why it might be that way?
Listen carefully – Don’t just hear
Find the meaning in the things she may say
Her words may not be about the things you do
But in how you understand, and love each day
ToWitt, Towitt comes the nocturnal cry
Then waiting for partner’s distant reply
Voice heard and understood,
Though but single phrase echos in the wood
The pair thus linked, no words they need
For they are bound together in heart and deed
What are lovebirds?
Is that a thing?
Is it only that couple –
That together – Coo and sing?
Is it those who
In tandem take to wing?
While such things are cute and sweet
A lovebird is so much more – A deeper thing
The other’s needs to meet
True lovebirds are there
For each other
Through all that life’s journey may bring
FOWC with Fandango — Lovebirds
Your head resting upon my shoulder
A fleeting smile and suggestive wink
Caresses upon a summer’s eve
Your clutter above the bathroom sink
These things I long for –
To name but very few –
What I am trying to say –
Is in the end that I miss you.
Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: End a piece of prose or poetry with the phrase “I miss you”
Colleen’s challenge this week is to pen a syllabic poem using synonyms for “transition” and “harmony.” I have used the reverse cinquain form to approach this. I have tried to capture the melding of the two people into one which comes when individuals become a couple in a relationship. I hope you will enjoy it.
A metamorphosis of life
Grow ever more in tune
Colleen’s 2020 Weekly Poetry Challenge No. 177 #SynonymsOnly: transition & harmony
The piano’s silent now
And yet your tune* goes on.
*My wife Dianne was a classical pianist and musical accompanist. I lost her back in September, but her “tune” still fills my life.
Weekend Writing Prompt #155 – Tune in 10 words
I have followed the blog of an amazing young woman named Caralyn ever since I began blogging myself. In her latest post she asked a simple but important question – “What has this quarantine taught you?”
I have learned that in the end it is tolerance and compassion that makes us the true survivors. We are touched by people who we haven’t heard from in years who send messages to just check that we are okay. It is the 99 year old veteran that walks around his garden to raise money for the doctors and nurses. It is the pastors who delivers groceries or prescriptions to the weakest of their flocks. It is our own ability to love and understand our friends and colleagues when they try to make a health issue a political one (on either side). It is when we stay in to protect the vulnerable, and yet will pray for those who flout restrictions, or hoard supplies, or even deny there is an issue at all. It is about “loving our neighbours.”
The year after a bereavement is “a year of firsts.” The first “first” for me came only three days after my wife’s passing as she went to be with her Lord just before our wedding anniversary. Yesterday was another of those “firsts,” the anniversary of our “meeting.”
My wife and I “met” in a chatroom for single parents. This was no “online dating site.” It was a Christian site with the purpose of discussing being single parents and coming up with advice and strategies for dealing with the responsibility of that role. We seemed to have much in common as far as approach, and that in turn showed other things we shared. Our online contact moved on from that and about 3 months later we met for the first time face to face. God works in wonderful ways, and through such an unexpected medium, I found the perfect partner and wife.
A chance meeting while seeking help
No thought of what it might become
Discussing with strangers the issues of life
And then we became as one
How odd, our meeting was while far away
In a help room for sharing advice
And then we would click, bond, and grow
And you agreed to become my wife
So simple a meeting, no thought of a link
Lone parenting our only aim
But it all came together faster than you’d think
Our destinies proved the same
Dianne you are loved and missed.