Autumn anamnesis

As summer turns to fall,
I find I’m missing you.
Your face I can hardly recall,
yet still, I’m missing you.
And when summer at last returns,
I’ll be lost in all my usual concerns,
but once again missing you,
when that first leaf falls.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/maple-leaves-maple-leaves-autumn-690233/

Meandering thoughts…

As spring bleeds into summer,
I know fall will soon usher in,
and the memories of you
will just become more vivid.
This was your season,
the one my dream foretold.

You were happiest here
amongst the acorns
and the cottonwood trees.
And you never missed a chance
to tell me how it was the song
of your heart.

As more memories flood me now,
I wrestle with the wind
as it disrupts my tears;
a cold hand for comfort
is all it can offer my soul.

The light of you
left my path long ago.
But I still see you
in every golden leaf
that glides my way.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/tree-nature-grass-landscape-4339191/

Salty succotash and pencil toppers

Pencil topper stew
just wouldn’t do,
but that was all she had
to feed her crew.

So she went to the store
to buy some beans,
but the brand she wanted
were all bursting at the seams.

So she thought for a minute
about what to do
because bursting beans
would need some sort of glue.

The corn looked good,
so she settled on that,
and then she went home
and put it all in a big vat.

By early that evening,
she had an amazing brew,
and even though a tad bit salty,
it was still a hearty stew.

Her kids were all grateful,
and with tummy’s filled to the brim,
they all settled down
to watch some Grimm.

It wasn’t very long
before the kiddies all crashed,
so she nestled them in their beds
while they dreamt of succotash.

Before long, it was her turn
to finally drift away,
catching the midnight train to dreamland;
she was at last gone on a holiday.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/candle-extinguished-smoke-wick-2358276/

Writing prompt: Salty succotash and pencil toppers

Cranberry shag carpet and glinting gizmos

Gadgets and gizmos,
trinkets with silvery trims,
these were the things
that were most important to him.

The old, cranberry carpet
was forever threadbare,
but that was no worry
because daddy didn’t care.

His only real concern
were his shiny new toys,
and when mama would yell,
he’d just block out the noise.

The house was rather unkempt
and in dire need of repair,
but my dear old dad,
he never did despair.

He’d just shrug his shoulders,
in his nonchalant way, because
there was nothing he loved more
than all his junk and disarray.

I think mama finally gave up
cause she knew she’d never win.
Nobody could ever change him;
it’s just the way he’s always been.

I guess I’m secretly proud
that he never gave in.
I think people should stay true
to their passions within.

There’s no telling who he’d be
if mama had had her way,
and I surely wouldn’t be
the person I am today.

So thank you, Dad,
for being true to who you are.
I still love you so very much,
even from afar.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/auto-car-garage-auto-shop-vintage-1868726/

Writing prompt: Cranberry shag carpet and glinting gizmos

How are you?

There are days when you are close,
but mostly days when you are far.
And sometimes, even the stars
seem to wonder where you are.

This pushing and pulling
due to some odd gravitational force
always leaves me to wonder
if you’ve just gotten off course.

And my soul is forever searching,
looking for a definitive sign,
to show me you’re alright,
in the midst of this decline.

I’m always aching to understand
and know for certain you’re okay,
but it’s difficult to know sometimes
when you’re so far away.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit:  https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-moon-night-fantasy-halloween-5712027/

The Perfect Color

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Robin’s egg blue
Takes me back to you

You were the loveliest creature
I memorized your every feature

But cornflower days
Were never long stays

I had you for just a short while
Amidst the decaying dandelion pile

You should’ve had more
A bit of forest green to explore

Instead the pacific blue
Became your life-long hue

Those sea green and periwinkle days
Formed all of your mahogany ways

You stayed purple mountain majesty true
To your olive green and cadet blue

Carnation pink and brick red brown
Followed you into the burnt orange ground

And bittersweet left the taste of gray
As the sky-blue in your eyes faded away

 

© 2018 Michelle Cook

*Just needed to repost this today. Been thinking of my grandfather and his patriotism. He was my hero and loved this country more than anybody else I’ve ever known. He gave me my love for the United States of America and taught me to never say an ill word about our country. I love you so much grandpa. You were a rare gem in this world and will never be forgotten by me and all who knew you. May you rest in peace today and always.

Jumbled like Jenga

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Cardboard boxes
End to end
Will I ever see
This floor again

Jumbled like Jenga
Teetering towers
At this point I’ve got
Superpowers

Lifting, squatting,
Moving mountains
Nothing else rhymes
Except for fountains

Dizzy from exertion
I could really use a break
But my will isn’t willing
To negotiate

I’ve gotta get this done
No time to waste
Cause right now I’m feeling
So displaced

And once this is finished
I’ll have me some fun
For I’ll have earned my day
Of sitting in the sun

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/box-memories-photos-books-1209969/

The true treasures of life

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Every day I realize
More and more what I have
It isn’t my belongings, dusty on shelves
It isn’t the things I’ve accomplished
Or even the things I’ve mastered
But instead, It’s the people
And the experiences
The beauty of life itself
These are the things that matter
The things that are worth loving
The things I want to fight for
I hope I never lose sight
Of the true treasures of life

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/dog-girl-pet-animal-young-female-4286921/

The most valuable gift of all

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Time
each of us holds it from birth.
We’re all entrusted with the same daily allowance
but not all know its value
and some seem to forget its worth.

The foolish tend to use it up
leaving all those leftover seconds
to rot on silver platters
squandering hours away
on useless, selfish desires
believing they’ll always have more
never realizing there is a limit.

And yet the wise
and the perceptive
they protect time with their very lives
savoring every last crumb
knowing it is a measured blessing to be cherished.
They realize time is meant to be held in a way,
which embraces even the tiniest bits of joy.
And those who are discerning
understand the merit of its potential.
For time truly is the most valuable gift of all.

© 2019 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/time-machine-old-school-watch-1450051/

 

Words

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Words
I wrestle with them.
Some are just worth fighting for.

And even one good word can make life worth living — bringing hope to a day, which might otherwise be dark and dismal.

But a bad word can be so disheartening — often reminds me of a rosebud that wilts before it ever has the chance to bloom.

If only our words could always be like rainbows,
we’d never have to feel so gray.

© 2019 Michelle Cook