A writing prompt: My Emotional Weather Report

winter '04 walk-in

A cold chill looms in my subconscious.

Awake, there are flakes of doubt whether,

I will weather, future rains on “my parade”

With a calm front.

We live not in the doldrums for very long.

 Clouds come and go.

I will focus upon the clear skies…my horizon.

Stomping in puddles,

Making snow angels,

And building sand castles on the warmest days.

For the winds of change are unpredictable,

Yet, I’m certain, the sun always rises in the East.

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Taking Pause

seeds 112#1In Autumn, the forest does not die

But folds her arms tightly

Embracing a fine satisfaction.

Reflections are brightest then.

When color flashes and fades

In one instant of hurrah.
No regrets.

Life becomes life,

Passing knowledge in subtle shades of gold.

One great pause

To emphasize what matters most.

Timing is everything.
No regrets.

Shining days of resurrection.

A whispered promise

On a chilling wind.

Awkward seedlings will persevere

Built upon your rituals,
your wisdom,
no regrets.

——————–

For my granddaughters.

The Heart of Things

seeds 002between

When children don’t like green beans,

I ask them just to taste.

There are so many new things,

So little time to waste.

A new idea’s a wonder.

Embrace it, oh so, much.

The world is ours to play with,

We must reach out and touch.

“Seeing is believing”,

That’s how the saying goes.

Appreciate those pictures from

The part of life that shows.

Give everything a sniff test.

Aromas stir the mind.

 What’s good or may be rotten,

Applies to all you find.

Best of these, you listen.

Collect, then take apart.

Senses are your data bank,

but,

Actions need your heart.

——————————————–

This is my 600th post in my blog.

I wanted it to be special…

Doctor Hopper

designallDoctor Hopper, a handsome dude,

 Only eats from happy food.

A helping hand or handmade gift,

Gives this fellow quite a lift.

He always shares and travels miles,

Seeking kids who offer smiles.

Wanting things, just isn’t why,

A person, sometimes, needs to cry.

Being glum is not okay.

It’s not your birthday every day.

A sour frown’s no good to eat.

Insects only like what’s sweet.

You’ll find this superhero bug,

In every single happy hug.

The doctor wants the world to know,

Nectar comes from the love we show.

Cheer for your friends, and family too,

Keep him fat, he counts on you.

Sweet Ending

I breathe deeply.

It’s been weeks since I’ve inhaled,

and felt alive.

The waning growing season

is less about endings, to me.

Stagnation and swelter

Have lifted.

It is far better to be busy.

Survival is an active process.

The depth of silent winter,

White and cozy,

Hasn’t any power to suppress

my spirit.

As the woolen, suffocating blanket of summer lifts,

I remember to be happy.

Once Pondered

It was summertime.

Season of sounds

Without limits

Daylight, endless hours

Searching and seeing

Breathing and being

curious.

A pond is one universe.

Sodden with life

For children

Frogs tell it best

Not needy

Hiding an option

Temporary adoption

Be gentle.

Understanding our existence.

So very easy

In summer

Solitary inspection

Waters and reflection

living.