Fortune for the day – “When anger spreads through the breast, guard thy tongue from barking loudly.” – Sapho
Anger does start in the chest, doesn’t it? And it has a burning feel to it, that does spread like fire and even sometimes like an inferno. What are you feeling right now? What does that feeling feel like, in each part of your body? Notice it. Stay with it. Describe it. Feel it. Let it go.
New friends, Sundays are our Poetry Workshop days. I share a poem and I feel a longing to have more of my readers share their poems in the Comments section. (Longing is a hollow feeling deep in my core, I’ve noticed) Anyway, it’s safe here. Even if you don’t feel like sharing, write a poem just for yourself today. You’ll find it freeing. You’ll be able to express more than you ever could with regular prose. I promise. Here’s my poem for today:
Sunday Morning
Windchimes tinkling softly
Sun rising assuredly
Lake moving swiftly
Leaves stirring slightly
Mind waking slowly
Coffee brewing steadily
Dogs arousing excitedly
Daughter coughs quietly
Sunday morning arises,
Absolutely, gloriously, perfectly.
Your poem is brilliant!
Maxman, Max0x0x, MaX always.
a love letter poem
you broke my heart
before I ever met you
My husband knew of
your cruel owners.
The anger enraged,
the sadness consumed us both.
The stories I was told
made me love you,
made me want to
commit all my resolve
to rehabilitating you.
I didnt want you
to die
without knowing love.
With already 5 rescues
I silently waited
for a cue
that it was OK to take you too.
We didnt know
if the day would ever come.
The day finally did come!
You were given to us!
You were beautiful in my eyes
You were a pain too! lol
Eating was a ordeal for you,
scared to eat,
eating so fast!
I knew why.
Eventually you balanced out.
And you still
dont like your head touched.
Yet, you are the perfect foot warmer,
I love sleeping you every night,
You are by my side
day and night
Youve made me come
to love being around you
I love hugging you.
You are in 95%
of every picture taken of me.
You are my new forever pal.
13 million dogs
die every year in the USA
I didnt want you to be
one of them.
Max always!
Max always! Big hugs to you and Kit, Max.
Beautiful!
..finallytime…
Retirement should be re-named
“…finallytime…”
Finally time to read,
write, photograph
paint and sip tea on the porch with the cat
or play with the grandchildren.
Finally time to quilt,
grow and cook with herbs,
to catch films on opening night,
or join writer’s groups and swim.
Finally time to sleep in in Sundays,
And maybe Monday too, if you want.
Or to take an afternoon nap…
every day!
And sometimes, not do anything at all, but sit and listen to the wind in the trees.
Yes. I think I am loving
“…finallytime…”
Carla, you are making me very excited for “finallytime” . . . very inspiring!
Finally time. For sure!
Aren’t Sundays the very BEST!
Yes!! Although when you not a finallytime, Sunday evenings can be a bit disconcerting. lol