The Wait

Wanted a child to hold in my arms
A baby boy, a baby girl
No, the gender mattered not
Mother's day came and went
Miracle denied
for many years
My girl was
worth the
wait

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His Dry Wit

elastic wit

pulled to the fringe

dry twisting elemental humor

labor of pleasure

doubles the fun

dissolves the gloom

cancels the harsh

sounds of too much serious

I was thinking of my hubby when I wrote this. His dry wit first drew me to him. Not everyone gets his humor, but no one makes me laugh like he does. When I need it most.

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Live Without Apology

Living is vital

beyond breathing

surviving

struggling

coping

Live

the small things

large things

in-between things

Happiness is fleeting

Joy

fundamental

essential

transcendental

Relish

sweet things

hard things

mundane things

Live

the moment

not forgetting the past

looking to the future

without apology

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Intolerance

Never more right

Than when you're wrong

No other opinion matters

Discussion is useless

If you set your mind

Pressing truth 'til it shatters

Take it personally

When confronted by logic

Defensive attitude revealing the hate

Can't argue issues

Without a dose of sarcasm

Bitterness camouflaged as debate

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With One Smile

With one smile

The tender heart falls to pieces

at the sight of such a simple gesture,

gathering affection to the soul

like a friend once lost now found

Anger flees as if it can’t

remain in the presence

of that small flicker

of reconciliation

Hope wriggles into the

crevices of dissension,

nudging two wounded hearts

toward healing

Joy binds the fracture

as two spirits realize

what might have been disaster

was averted once more

With one smile

Words Of My Soul

Where do the words come from

That express my life

My hope

The essence of me

That my soul spits out

Not sensible but making

oh so much sense

Regrets

Maybe

Not so much as joy and

Fleeting moments of happiness

Wrapped up in relationships and

Memories and

I don't want my life to be over

I want to live for the now

And for the future

And I want my words to flow

To tell stories of my existence

To dump the essence of my soul

With reckless abandon

Where do the words go

When they leave my mind

Do they frolic and

Dance

And cavort with intent

So that a piece of me

Makes oh so much

Sense to another 


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at http://www.onesingleimpression.blogspot.com

Certainty of Change

Plum(b) lines drift off center,

little by little, creating changes in the level

with slight variations from normalcy

Joy, fine stitches in quality garments

gathering family, faith and friends

like expected blessings in a rich life

Loss, a course pattern of thick, bright

yarn woven into the texture of existence

like aberrations in bulky sweaters

Pain, a shovel that digs deep into the

meaning of survival until it hits a root

like a hard stop in an endless progression of days

Hope, words written in the wind
with bold letters, expressing anticipation
of joy, loss, and pain in the certainty of change

(c) Denise Moncrief 2012

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