Life can blow in gentle wisps
or suddenly seize the day
in consternation.
So whenever I sense a billowy riff,
I look to the sky for clarification.
Of course, I realize that many storms
pass without peril,
and there is often radiance
after the rain.
But when a particularly vile storm
causes all the flowers to sag,
I know each one understands me.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/sunflower-flowers-plant-helianthus-4339701/
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/
You were the bent bristles
against my skin,
causing me to rethink
the situation I was in.
Your continuous brushing
left me wanting more;
I could finally see a rainbow
peeking through my door.
The color you displayed
forever touched my heart,
and my world turned so gray
when at last, we had to part.
Sort of like blended bananas
when they’re left out all day,
their pretty yellow hue
turns the color of dismay.
And it’s so very sad
the way we both had to leave;
the mere thought
is still so hard to conceive.
But at long last,
I’m seeing color once again;
my rainbow was always here
nestled deep within.
I think I was holding on
too tight to your light
when all along,
this was really just my fight.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/reflection-woman-silhouette-umbrella-1082159/
Writing prompt: Bent bristles and blended bananas
I once spent a tarnished red cent
for a man who was undeniably hell-bent
on being an obnoxious
and gibberish gent.
And I knew for certain
I shouldn’t have wasted my token,
but I felt so sorry
when the man’s doohickey became broken.
To this day, I still wonder
if I’ll ever finally learn
not to let a man’s problems be
of any of my concern.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-woman-depression-3629520/
Writing prompt: Gibberish gents and dog-eared doohickies
Summer days with dad
We never knew what we’d find
Fishing off the pier
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/fishing-dad-daughter-sunset-nature-4553149/
Writing prompt: Smelly smells and freaky finds
Her Writing Haven 