ROSE'S UNIQUE POEMS

Feeling down about not being with our East Coast families for Thanksgiving, I tried to cheer myself up by listing a few of the many things for which I can be thankful.

For What Am I Grateful?

Bright sun in the sky

Much food on my plate

Roof over my head

Free time to create

Strong man at my side

Phone calls from our kin

Close friends to enjoy

A set point to win

Seven letter words

Live, verdant houseplants

Sweet dreams when I sleep

Good books if I can’t

Green hills in our view

A fresh mountain breeze

Ideas to write down

My piano keys

After surviving the worst of times, it's often hard to take the first step toward a happier, more fulfilling life.

(I'd love for someone talented to put this poem to music, rap or rock.)

(Drawing by Rose Marie Boyd)

Never Too Late

Rolled out the dice, took a chance on life;

The cubes crapped out, caused all kinds of strife.

Rode out the storm, survived the rough patch,

Walkin' on eggs till some good breaks hatch.

Waitin' for answers, as the handles turn,

Watchin' time fly, as the hours burn.

Gonna rise up, slip into fresh shoes,

Tap a new song, no more singin' the blues.

A gave a poetry toast at my daughter and son-in-law's wedding.

"To Jessica and Justin...(OOPS!)...I mean Jessica and Brian"

Jessica promptly stood up and clarified, "Justin's my brother!"
for the benefit of anyone at the wedding who might think he was an ex-boyfriend.

Clicking Together

Love, like any fine wine,

can be savored by two.

Although it may taste livelier when fresh,

its flavor can improve with age.

But, if it’s bottled up and sits gathering dust,

there are no guarantees it won’t go sour.

So keep your love uncorked and, with hearts pumping stronger,

you’ll enjoy a healthier, more satisfying marriage.

The distant hills visible from my front window remind me of the ocean.

A Calming Sea

Disturbed by stormy thoughts,

I glance out my porthole

At the rolling waves.

Absorbed by the green swells,

The turbulence within me

Drowns in their wake.

It's not always easy to focus on the positive. But it may be worth it in the long run.

Fleeting Moments

Like clouds in a windy sky, days breeze by

Jam-packed with emotional haze.

Some are filled with the moisture of tears

And cast dark shadows on your dreams.

Others float by light and airy;

They shade you from the feverish pace of life.

Since they all fade into vaporous memories,

Dismiss the gloom and cherish the buoyant joys.

In honor of Judy Bross, the grandmother of my Little from Big Brothers/Big Sisters, who lies dying of cancer.

Serenity

May you cantor to a peaceful place,

To a meadow where those who

Have galloped hard through life

Can rest their weary hooves.

On my birthday, I contemplated what the day meant to me and came up the following poem:

Another Milestone

The older I get

The longer I set

Pondering the ways

To get through the maze.

The turns and the blocks

The big and small shocks

The triumphs to cheer

The risks if I dare.

This labyrinth called life

Full of happiness, strife

Each cycle I chart

An end, a new start.

What are the odds? Are they as random as I imagine them to be?

Random Odds

by Rose Marie Boyd

The days, long weeks, short years

New loves, old hates, the fears

The where’s, the what’s, the why’s

Wide grins, loud laughs, soft cries

Hothead, warm heart, cold feet

Burdens, demands to meet

Things to learn, to teach

People to hold, to reach

The challenge, triumphs, joys

Silence, the shouts, the noise

The weak defeating strong

Knowing what’s right from wrong

Fresh sights, strong tastes, the feel

Imagined, wished for, real

Deep wounds, rejection, pain

The wind, cold snow, wet rain

To know and trust a friend

To fight, to hurt and mend

Long tales, the truth, the lies

Big loses, wins, or ties

Anger, a curse, deaf ears

Too sad to shed the tears

Soft music in the breeze

Photos, mementos seized

To greet, enjoy, depart

Absence, a broken heart

Nature, a painting still

Ideas, a mind fulfilled

To have, misplace or find

A heart, a soul, a mind

To eat, to drink, bad taste

To save, to toss, much waste

A dream, a thought not clear

Take hold, keep close or near

Fitness, health, the cancers

Questions, search, no answers

A birth, a life then death

First cries, one chance, last breath

A poem I wrote for a relative's wedding ceremony.

Shelf Life

Does love always taste the same?

No, over time its flavor changes;

Its once-spicy tang mellows.

But add a pinch of understanding

Then pepper it with affection,

And it’ll store well in the heart’s cupboard,

Scrumptious and ready to be shared

At a moment’s notice.

When my father came down with Alzheimer's disease, we saw him slip away. At first it was for short bits of time; but then the lapses grew longer. Although his body lingered on for years, he no longer seemed to be with us. Where was he?

Present Yet Unaccounted For

The more unfocused minutes pass,

And sand slips through the hourglass,

The days, they seem to disappear,

What happens to them still unclear.

Though cause unknown, brainwaves resign

To be confused by common signs.

They seem to journey somewhere far

And flee the now in ways bizarre.

Perhaps they seek the distant past,

Nomads who roam through days recast,

For there the route was somewhat clear,

With far less conflict, far less fear.

Can minds demented, damned by fate

Have conquered time, have found the gate,

Unbolted it and used the means

To fade away like time machines?

Image Source: http://michiganelderlawcenter.com/resources/was-a-loved-one-diagnosed-with/alzheimers-disease/

Two poems inspired by the weather.

RESTORATIVE POWERS

Raindrops slide down transparent window panes.

Salty teardrops caress a hollow cheek.

Torrents plummet, the thunderous storm wanes.

Sobs exhausted, the future seems less bleak.

Weathering the Storm

Rain falls and gloom prevails

But light breaks through the clouds

And reflects hope against the tears

Creating an optimistic rainbow of light

With a promise of bright tomorrows.

I spotted this small bridge in the middle of someone's front yard. It didn't go anywhere. It got me thinking where I might be headed. Do you know where you'll end up?

THE Bridge of Life

Where does it lead, this span so short,

the days, the years that time distorts?

Its tread is worn from soles that passed,

that took it slow or crossed it fast.

Hold tight the rails, impede the stride,

or wind up on the other side.

The end traversed, the last plateau,

what lies beyond…a flame, a glow?