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/

Bent bristles and blended bananas

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 keep track of all the days…

I keep track of all the days in between;
the ones when you don’t say you love me.
And during those days,
my heart beats a little less enthusiastically,
the sighs are a little longer,
and my shoulders slump a little more.
Sometimes the longing and the aching
can be almost unbearable.
But then I think back to all the times
when those three little words
were never spoken at all;
all those years filled
with such a lonely longing in my chest.
I know I will never be in that place again
because you always remind me of that
with your steadfast presence every day.
And when that realization hits me,
that you’re not leaving me,
I’m finally able to stop myself from falling,
cradling my mind, and finding comfort
in my own embrace.
It’s in that nurtured state
that I somehow find a way to let go
of the demons which harbor my weary discontent.
And eventually, that nagging feeling
starts to evaporate, disintegrating bit by bit
in every relaxing exhale,
calming a little more in every deep breath.
I’m never quite the same, though,
as my own strength can never carry me
all the way through.
And so I wait patiently until you’re here again,
reminding me that love is more than words.
But because you know I need to hear it,
you expose your stubborn soul to me,
finally giving in to my neediness.
And that’s when my heart explodes
in reassured joy
because your loving words mean everything to me.
And even though I already know you love me,
the reminder frees my soul and refuels my spirit.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/natural-woman-in-park-female-4646384/

Baby basil and contagious hiccups

This fragrant garden
The one you’ve captured me in
Still catches my breath

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/love-flower-korea-couple-4263758/

Writing prompt: Baby basil and contagious hiccups

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