If only I could’ve held him
Seen his lovely little face
But fate intervened
And he was lost
without a trace
I wonder what could’ve been
Our lives will never be the same
Some things we miss forever
And Jonathan Michael
was his name
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/love-clouds-romance-sky-romantic-1381420/
Writing prompt: Jonathan Michael was his name
Turn this page over
See what’s behind
In-between the creases
I cannot hide
You’ll see my reality
The truth that I face
The depth of my desires
I dare not taste
Each sweeter than honey
These visions I explore
Yet locked in silence
Behind forbidden’s door
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-dark-gothic-dream-woman-4565555/
I miss my America,
the land of the free
and the home of the brave.
Every day I see sadness,
war beaten faces
from battlefields,
found in my own backyard.
We used to be one nation
united under God.
We were indivisible with liberty
and practiced justice for all.
But how many people
even remember
our nation’s promised pledge.
The allegiance we swore
to the flag of our forefathers,
is a promise we failed to keep.
The roots of our republic
have somehow been forgotten
and the turmoil caused
from present day happenings
has torn the unity
straight from our hearts.
It’s a dishonor to our nation,
but even more so
a disgrace to our God.
Freedom of speech
never gave us the right to ruin
what our brave forefathers
fought to defend.
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: Pixabay.com
I keep trying
to forget the past.
To leave all the hurts
buried deep
on that old,
empty road.
The place where
I was deserted,
left choking on remorse.
But everybody
wants answers,
and nobody understands
that I can’t breathe.
And when I’m forced
back on that road,
I can’t heal
or even catch my breath.
The air over there
is stifling.
And so many
broken dreams
are still dangling
in the wind.
I can’t keep
reaching out,
grasping hopelessly
at those lifeless strands.
So please,
I’m begging you,
let’s just leave the past
to live where it died.
Or else this life
won’t be worth living
at all.
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-woman-walking-hike-trek-2569740/
He lingers nearby
On the edge of the page
The page we’re still writing
Where love continues to blossom
Unfolding ever so delicately
And he’s mesmerized
By the mind-boggling splendor
His eyes so bright
Enthusiastically consumed
With the miraculous happenings
Of what he observes
And he stays a little longer
Leaning in for a closer view
Lingering in the loveliness
Of our imperishable page
So beautifully written
Full of all the days we’ve shared
Memories of us
And the many years we’ve loved
© 2020 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/address-book-notebook-notes-2246432/
Her Writing Haven 