Sometimes a song carries us along

When I couldn’t be there
to lose myself in you,
I knew my favorite song
would have to do.

Sometimes I’d let the words
rush over my skin,
remembering all the places
where we’d once been.

There were countless nights
I could only imagine you here,
and losing you in my life
was my greatest fear.

So I’d take solace
in my favorite song,
hopeful that the words
would carry me along.

Filled with a melody
so I could hold you in my heart,
I believed in earnest
that we’d never part.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/freedom-girl-travel-adventure-4782870/

Our love is simple

He’s learned me
while I’ve memorized him,
and slowly over the years,
the binding of our love story
has mostly stayed intact.

Sure our relationship
is not without its frayed edges,
but we are still bound
by the stubbornest of wills,
refusing to be beaten
by all those little things.

Our love is sincerely simple,
mostly held together
by old remnants of duct tape
and traces of super glue.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/old-book-small-dandelion-faded-2256073/

Don’t ever put chocolate in your pocket

It was Valentine’s Day,
and he gave me a candy heart,
a chocolate-filled sweet,
with love he did impart.

And I placed that dainty morsel
in the pocket of my jeans,
the tiny tempting treasure
settled nicely in the seams.

With chocolate in my pocket,
I then went about my day,
feeling quite content
over the sentiment conveyed.

But as the day turned into night,
I realized my mistake;
that bit of chocolate in my pocket
for granted I did take.

My prize had now become
a melted memory of bliss,
forgotten in my pocket,
becoming a liquified kiss.

It reminded me of all the times
I’d let love pass through my fingers.
It seems there’s never a good way
to make deliciousness linger.

© 2021 Michelle Cook

 


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/heart-pink-ribbon-greeting-card-2448640/

In a quiet place

I’ve been away
Not had much to say

Been in a quiet place
Inside a forgotten space

Letting my thoughts swirl
While my feet uncurl

Feeling happy and carefree
As I find the inner me

Enjoying a different view
While still holding on to you

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit:https://pixabay.com/photos/relax-alone-meditate-person-young-569318/

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

Where to even begin?

She asks why I don’t write
But the pages are very thin
And I know my heavy words
Would do them all right in

So I hold myself back
Hiding what’s within
And even if I did write
I doubt I’d know where to begin

Perhaps I’m just uncomfortable
Being here in my own skin
It’s so hard to be myself
Because of where I’ve been

I’ve lost a lot of who I am
I think I’ve even lost my grin
But that’s the way life often is
Sometimes we just can’t win

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo Credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/diary-ipad-to-write-blog-workplace-968603/

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

Stop and Listen

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Stop and listen
Hear the sound
New life teeming
All around

Look at the fields
The sky, the earth
All so lovely
Full of rebirth

Listen to the ocean
And the stoic geese
Notice the beauty
Find your inner peace

See the world
Through brand new eyes
What you observe
Might be a surprise

Stop for a moment
Catch your breath
Plenty to live for
Before life meets death

© 2019 Michelle Cook

She said…

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She said…

Welcome to the age
Of being quite old
Imperfections aplenty
And your feet are always cold

You used to have friends
But you can’t remember them now
And you try to make new ones
But you can’t remember how

You miss the days
When you were once vibrant and energetic
You’re now considered dull
And a wee bit eccentric

You look in the mirror
And you notice every strange feature
And you wonder how you became
Such an odd looking creature

You think of ways
In which you could improve
But that would then mean
You’d actually have to move

So you sigh a huge sigh
And bury your head
Deep in your pillow
On your old comfy bed

And you give yourself over
To the effects of time
Knowing you’ll never again be
At your prime

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Always in a crowd

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No matter day nor time
He’s mysteriously there
Often presenting himself
As a charming reflection
Or sometimes merely peering
Through airy sheers
As if lost in another dimension
And when I see his hazy image
Forming late at night
Standing casually by the curb
Under that old, misty lamp post
I’m fully convinced
That my delusions
Are fully functioning
As the churning whirls of smoke
Find their way
Over to my door
Each captivating puff
Curling up against my nose
Alighting my senses
With the waft of bygone days
Ones that could never be forgotten
Even though their existence
Is a fallacy in itself

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Always in a crowd

 

Even from afar

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Words cannot express
Everything you are
I’ve loved you forever
Even from afar
And on those days
That are cold and bleak
It’s you that I miss
You’re the one I seek
I cannot deny
The things I feel
It’s you that I love
These emotions are real
You’ll always be there
Concealed in my heart
The place where we never
Have to be apart

© 2019 Michelle Cook

Listen to your mother…

One thing I’ve never done is written anything for obvious reasons.  Everything I write has a much deeper meaning, and few people are privy to the real interpretation.  And in a way, that is so much more satisfying to me because there are things I don’t want to have to explain to the world.  My true self is hidden somewhere within the words that scatter across every page I write.  All those cryptic words… most reminiscent of days long ago when the seasons couldn’t change fast enough; when life took me by surprise every goddamn day, messing with my heart and soul.  Seems like a lifetime ago, and yet it really wasn’t, or was it?  Those who think they know me, are only fooling themselves.  Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover? ~M