thoughts

Buttery biscuits

~ ~M ~ 25 Comments

Better than anything,
her cuteness makes me smile.

Underneath the maple tree,
we laugh for a very long while.

The next thing we both know,
the sun is nearing its stage to set.

Time seems like our enemy
when we realize that’s all we get.

End-of-day loveliness
stretches across the carnation sky.

Remembering the late hour,
still deferring the day’s goodbye.

Yesterday’s such as this
often leave a feeling of bittersweet.

But those memories, they fill us
on days when we’re incomplete.

Illusions of everlasting delight
remain cradled upon our chests.

So many things a mother suffers,
the losses are hard to digest.

Come what may we say in quiet,
as the years start to pass us by.

Until the end draws nearer
and we’re left with all the why’s.

It’s the not knowing that hurts the most;
the answers never found.

This life is never easy,
but we do our best to be around.

Silently we pass; still, nobody ever knows
all a mother suffers and endures
as they watch their babies grow.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/mother-child-family-daughter-girl-3793521/

Writing prompt: Buttery biscuits – given to me by my very sweet daughter, Autumn Rose.

Sanctuary of love

~ ~M ~ 19 Comments

As the day drifts by,
I sit alone,
lost in the land
of blackened stone.

But the air is clear,
and the sky is blue,
and it’s the glory of this place
that sees me through.

If I’m stranded knee-deep,
stuck in regret,
this is my chosen place
to toss my net.

Then I sit and wait
for my mind to lift;
a gentle breeze
allows my thoughts to shift.

My quest for answers
consumes my brain,
but sitting here stills
what my body can’t tame.

Then I forget the years
and the people I know
and allow the earth
to choose where I go.

Whispers of peace
tickle my ears,
reminding me to let go
of all of my fears.

And the day carries on
as I jump to my feet,
seeing the good
in everyone I meet.

Blessed for the time
I’ve had in this place,
a sanctuary of love
filled with grace.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Life, will I ever?

~ ~M ~ 25 Comments

Life,
it moves us along
at record speed.

I try to dangle
delicately,
occasionally letting
my feet scrape
against the ground.

And as I swing under
my beloved canopy,
I notice the poor old oak
has seen better days.

Brittle bark scatters
like tarnished snowflakes,
and the bough dips
against the weight
of my sways.

But do I stop?

No, I continue on
in careless destruction,
marring my protector
all while biding my time.

I’m still a child; after all,
I do not recognize
my mistakes;
will I ever?

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-swing-playground-trees-6722023/

Virginia

~ ~M ~ 28 Comments

In whispers along
those distant easterly winds,
I hear you yearning
from deep within.

A hushed desire,
a shushed thrill,
waiting and wanting
as the cold night stills.

Desperate longing,
so loving and sure,
making all these miles
so hard to endure.

Racing thoughts
as cravings run rampant,
yet suffocated by sheets
where warmth is absent.

The days tick by
while our breasts lay bare,
but dreams they beckon,
flourishing in the air.

Our fantasies morph
into realistic pleasures
and dancing after dusk
is our favorite endeavor.

But it’s there in the shadows
where we truly find our way,
into each other’s arms,
where we strive to stay.

Desperate for one kiss,
appeased by a calming sigh
hidden in our hearts,
all the many reasons why.

© 2020 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-nude-body-erotic-sensual-5815695/

Originally written: June 2020

Nighttime whispers

~ ~M ~ 27 Comments

The past still beckons me,
though my future is clear.
Still, it’s hard to leave behind
all the things we once held dear.

Unfortunately, people change,
and our hearts wail in disbelief.
And those unspoken topics
are the bearers of our grief.

Woeful whispers in the night
tend to fuel my disheartened spirit.
I try to bandage my bleeding heart,
but nothing can ever cure it.

So many things I want to forget,
but there’s nothing I can undo.
So I spend my days looking for ways
to begin my life anew.

Written by, Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/sci-fi-fantasy-moon-couple-7143964/

Writing prompt, courtesy of my hubby: Nighttime whispers.