I’m thankful for you

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I’m thankful for my friends
The ones both far and near
Who always steer me right
When nothing is quite clear

Without you in my life
I know I’d never get through
And the happiness I’ve felt
Is really all because of you

© 2018 Michelle Cook

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I’ve been thinking about love

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I’ve been thinking about love
And how for a brief moment
I held it in the palm of my hand
I was filled with a hurricane of emotions
Something my heart could barely withstand
So powerful was the force
That it took me by complete surprise
And my heart now wonders
How such a love ever became compromised

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Wilting efforts

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If success is only measured
By man’s own heart
Than what the hell have we been doing
From the very start

We live each day
Trying so hard to get ahead
And with all this mindless shuffling
It’s a wonder we aren’t dead

We scurry and worry
Then we sigh and we cry
While all along never realizing
We’re really just living a lie

Because this isn’t actually living
It’s not about what we’ve done
At the end of the day
We aren’t even having any fun

Instead we’re torturing ourselves
Frustrated by our lack of gain
Each day is just a wilting effort
Driving all of us insane

We’ll never accomplish everything
And never be all we’d like to be
It shouldn’t take our entire lives
For us to finally see

We’ve got to stop measuring our happiness
By the world’s standard views
And take on the dauntless challenge
Of living a life of a whole new hue

Daring to risk it all
Our regular lives might come with a cost
And yet without even trying to change
We forget we’ve already lost

© 2018 Michelle Cook

*This is what my brain produces at 3 am when I can’t sleep.  Lol… Have a great day everyone!  😉  ~M


Writing prompt:  Wilting efforts

The Mystery of Milmonyville

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The town of Milmonyville
Was such a curious place
Lined with quaint shops
Filled with wares of fine taste

It was like stepping back in time
As you walked down the street
And men would tip their hats
To every woman that they’d greet

Most thought it rather odd
That the people were so welcoming
And many would never go back
Because they found it so unsettling

It was almost as if the town
Was too perfect in some regards
Everything was polished and sparkling
Something you couldn’t disregard

And that old town of Milmonyville
Is still a mystery even today
Especially after heaps of bodies
Were found floating in their pristine bay

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: The mystery of Milmonyville

9-11

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In the midst of all the insanity we silently wait for hope

The fog has still not lifted
The faces in the crowds are still much a blur

We can’t quite hear the sad song
Twisting and twirling on the cool night air

But we listen so intently that our hearts begin to bleed

We know the song, its angry notes ringing in the night

It’s a lonesome frightful song that never seems to end

Until we realize the shadows are standing in the corners
Watching and waiting
We will never fully understand our fate

The leaves are turning into dust now
Sliding across the patent leather of our shoes

We try to wipe the dust away

But it’s too late
The damage is done
And all is lost forever in that twisting twirling breeze
From beyond that which we do not know or seek

We do not hear those cries that scream out in the night
But oh how we know they are there

Instead, we hide in darkness
Living and hoping that life will give us one more chance

Praying for mercy
We never fully understand the wickedness of our ways

Until the end, we shall never know

Our fate lies within the creases of our hearts
And our destiny is an unwritten page

© 2018 Michelle Cook


*This is one of the first poems I ever attempted to write.  I decided to leave it as is, even as tempting as it is to rewrite it.  Let us never forget what that day did for this country.  It was one of the worst tragic events we have ever faced, but it also brought unity to our nation like none I’ve ever seen.  We need to find that again.  Let’s not wait for another tragic event to do that; but instead, let’s try to be like that always.  We should all be supporting each other and reaching out to those in need every single day.  It should be something we do for the rest of lives.  ~M xo

Blue pencil boulevard

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Poised and perfect
She looked divine
Standing there on the corner
Of twelfth and nine

Flawless and fashionable
Causing all eyes to divert
A forbidden temptress
In her blue pencil skirt

Dignified and delicate
A picture perfect scene
A shame who she really was
Would forever go unseen

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: Blue pencil boulevard

Imperial units

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Down the line
They made their way
Those imperial units
Marched all day

Duty called
And they were there
As the world slept
Most unaware

Tensions ran high
But they stood brave
Not a single soldier
Dared misbehave

They knew the drill
And worked as a team
Just like a well-oiled
Solid machine

Flinching not
Each straight and sturdy
Awaiting instructions
For their long journey

Always prepared
Formal and ready
Holding their heads
High and steady

Determined and fearless
For the mission ahead
Knowing that some
Would at last fall dead

This was their place
Each determined to strive
For this was the calling
Of their chivalrous lives

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: Imperial units

*Dedicated to my hubby who has given up so much of his life to protect our country.

Woodland white

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She stumbled upon a forest
Littered with crimson foliage and woodland white
And serenity found her there
Amidst the heavenly glow of the flaxen moonlight

The shadows were oddly comforting
Wrapping her in solace from the branches up high
And as she traversed her way through the verdure
She was awestruck by the moonlit sky

The old spotted owls called out to her
Welcoming her in like a dear old friend
And the peacefulness she found there
Was something she knew she could forever depend

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt:  Woodland white

September sunrise

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Your smile is like a September sunrise
The warmth of it permeates to my very core
And with every amusing expression you give me
I can’t help but want you more

Butterflies appear out of nowhere
Whenever you’re around
And sometimes I’m afraid you’ll disappear
If I dare breathe or make a sound

You’re like a wonderful dream
Seeming too perfect to actually be true
But my hope is that all my September’s
Will now be more resplendent because of you

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: September sunrise

A touch of perfect

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He was a touch of perfect
And yet perfect was never meant to last
And the problem seemed to stem
From when the present became the past

Over the years he changed
His familiar face I could no longer see
And it was a heart-crushing moment
When he was no longer who I knew him to be

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: A touch of perfect

Poor Petunia

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She heard him stumble in
Smelling of smoke and cheap wine
It was half past two
And he had crossed the line

She’d been sound asleep
In such peaceful repose
Then he staggered in
And began licking her toes

She tried to be nice
Even gave him a quick wink
But she was tired of his shenanigans
Whenever he would drink

So she rolled right over
And ignored his advances
He needed to learn
There were only so many chances

© 2018 Michelle Cook


*This is Petunia’s side of the story, you can find Peter’s here.

Poor Peter

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He came to her
With eyes sparkling bright
It was half past two
In the middle of the night

He was grinning wide
From ear to ear
And had a message for her
That was crystal clear

She winked at him
Then went back to sleep
He was left dazed and confused
Yet made not a peep

His mischievous smile faded
As he gave up the go
Accepting the sad truth
That there would be no show

© 2018 Michelle Cook


This is Peter’s side of the story, you can find Petunia’s here.