I remain…

I remain in slumbered thought
And yet my mind aches to go
To be what I should be
To know what I should know

And yet here I sit as always
My body fighting with my mind
The balance between them both
So off-kilter so unkind

The brain at war with the bones
The bones set in stubborn recluse
I fear not even an earthquake
Could shake my body loose

Stuck in that realm of isolation
Peering down on a grand parade
Wishing to be part of everything
Will no one come to my aid?

I’ve become like a stone statue
Watching the crowds pass by
Already in my coffin
Stuck in my mind’s eye

The world hums around me
I’m a lone spectator to the buzz
I remain in sequestered solitude
Free from what the world does

© 2023 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/sunset-woman-field-terrace-sun-5842173/

Anything is possible…

Their connection was unique
Formed from remnants of dismantled dreams
And wiry bits of tattered truths
It was the kind of connection
Which everyone assumed would never last
Even time seemed to consider it a lost cause
But somehow between the layers
Of their oddly structured foundation
An unbelievable bond was formed
Secretly this tie grew stronger
Day by day and year by year
And without fail they proved the impossible was possible

© 2022 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/forever-word-heart-text-seem-red-771012/

Do you ever send whispers on the wind?

Do you ever try to send whispers on the wind,
and if you do, what do you say?
Are your murmurs pleasant and cheery,
or do they come out more cold and gray?

What if everyone sent messages on the wind;
do you think we’d all feel more heard?
Imagine a chance to say all you want
and never be deferred.

I often wonder if our soft soliloquies
do sometimes make it to their intended;
to be able to pour out our hearts without reproach
seems like it would be quite splendid.

Confrontation can be so intimidating;
I often wish others could just feel my words.
Spoken sentimentalities drifting on the wind,
is it really all that absurd?

© 2022 Michelle Cook

The key

Here waiting
by this old rusty door,
the key to my future
and all its splendor.

Walking through the door,
a brilliant light floods my path;
darkness dissipates behind me
as I make a mad dash.

Finally, free of all
I’ve ever known and endured,
your outstretched hand in front of me,
so gentle and concerned.

At long last, finding the place
where I belong,
wrapped in a love so tender
and yet so strong.

Your embrace whisking me
away from this world,
the depths of our desires
at last unfurled.

© 2022 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: Here waiting by the door

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/heart-castle-love-symbol-romantic-603214/

Virginia

In whispers along
those distant easterly winds,
I hear you yearning
from deep within.

A hushed desire,
a shushed thrill,
waiting and wanting
as the cold night stills.

Desperate longing,
so loving and sure,
making all these miles
so hard to endure.

Racing thoughts
as cravings run rampant,
yet suffocated by sheets
where warmth is absent.

The days tick by
while our breasts lay bare,
but dreams they beckon,
flourishing in the air.

Our fantasies morph
into realistic pleasures
and dancing after dusk
is our favorite endeavor.

But it’s there in the shadows
where we truly find our way,
into each other’s arms,
where we strive to stay.

Desperate for one kiss,
appeased by a calming sigh
hidden in our hearts,
all the many reasons why.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-nude-body-erotic-sensual-5815695/

Originally written: June 2020