Poems and Poetry

Smile… Again | A Poem by Paul Tristram

Sometimes it is almost impossible.
The Frown you’ve been imprisoned behind
set in stone and Master
to your outlook, cause and thoughts.
The weight which bears your Spirits down,
ridiculous in its crushing immovability
and that sinking, lost feeling reigns supreme.
Start with the ‘Little Things’
they are the real Stepping Stones… leading… the… way.
Momentum will come, slowly yet surely,
like trickling stream into flowing river
and out into swelling ocean at last.
One crack is all that is needed
to let the light and warmth start flooding through.
Your ‘Smile’ is the Doorway,
Rope Ladder and Self Rescue
out of that miserable dark pit
which you have only too humanly fallen into.
It will lead your ‘Baby Steps’ walk
back out and into those Summer Skies of Blue.

Visit Paul at https://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

The Humming of Bees | A Poem by Isabella Huhn

To hear nature’s humming
If only once more,
To remember the dead
The murdered,
It said.
They lost it, we lost it,
Through ignorance, not hate;
We wept when it left,
Yet all called it fate.
Only the girl with the flowers
Cared for the late,
In unknowing regret,
And the sorrow she met,
During wandering hours
She put on the flowers, and remembered through the humming of bees.

Loop-De-Loop | A Poem by Wanda Morrow Clevenger

there is retirement
and then there’s
chronic disease
a long sometimes short-
lived list of amusement
park rides
the adult rides
the hair raising
white knuckle
you must be
>this afflicted< to ride this ride rides a scurry to keep on keep positive keep active busy bees be busy bees writing–excellent stress reliever I’m told, keep it up you’re doing great come back in 6 months my 80-something recently divorced mother weepy says she’s lonely her children don’t come around she’s still hobbling from hip replacement but the cane is conspicuously absent she plodded past retirement age now has too much space to wallow and weep she has a long list the windows and screens and curtains need washed I share a lunch with her be a good daughter a busy bee riding the loop-de-loop

Visit Wanda at https://wlc-wlcblog.blogspot.com/.

A Slow Trip from the Car | A Poem by Roy Pullam

Her bottom lip drags
She throws the left leg
Like a fisherman casting
Pulling the right behind
A labored cadence
She is determined
To take by herself
I walk slowly behind her
Ready to catch any misstep
Or weakness of strength
Hers is a persistence
A yearning for self-reliance
The effort drenching
Her blouse with perspiration
There is within me
A cocktail of concern
A feeling of unease
That someone so vital
Can be made so weak
She struggles to talk
Possibly the damage
To the brain
Has dammed thoughts
Familiar words
That will not come
But in their place
Pour irregular emotions
That startle me at times
I see before me
The weakness of flesh
That dampens will
Both she and I
Are reluctant to accept
This is the way
It must be