12.29.05
Posted in Writing at 9:42 am by Administrator
Twas the week after Christmas and all through the house
Every creature was stirring, even my restless spouse!
The stockings are scattered and thrown on the floor
The presents have already made their way out the door
Soon all the presents will be broken and torn
And cries and wails of sorrow will mourn
But for now the children are running, playing, and jumping
And even complaining “What can we do?” with no little bit of grumping
The once beautiful green tree is now sagging and brown
The ornaments keep falling and smashing to the ground
In an effort to regain control by sending my family away
I hope to clean up the house that has gone far astray
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But pieces of candy cane stuck in the miniature village reindeer
Remnants of wrapping paper are strewn all around
Boxes and bows and styrofoam forms abound
In corners are pieces of things I cannot I.D.
I throw them away without question…happily!
I pause for a moment surveying the craze
And think to myself, “This could take several days!”
But finally the tree is gone, the ornaments put back
And I will soon settle down for a long winter’s…
No nap for this mom for soon school will start
And off we will go again, so take heart
Homework and spelling tests and basketball games
Are the first things in January that will be our aims
But memories of Christmas and happy family times
Will stay with us always, locked in our minds.
A new year, number 2006 is fast approaching
And still the house’s mess is encroaching
So off I go to return to my work
And try not to turn my back with a jerk
I cannot afford any medical bills this year
For I spent all my money on the ones I hold dear!
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12.22.05
Posted in Writing at 12:11 pm by Administrator
She lays awake, darkness permeating all things around her, while her mind is drenched in daylight–robust with activity–as she plans, figures, wonders, worries, and even dreams.
The story of her life has just turned a page, revealing the next chapter. Too agitated to sleep, she rises from her bed and grabs paper and pen where she sets her madly whirling thoughts down, pulling one out at a time, depositing it then on the pages beneath her hand.
Is it the excitement drumming through her veins that keeps peaceful slumber at bay? Yes, most certainly. But fear mixes equally in the brew. She can only see a vague outline of this new chapter. The words have not yet settled into place, revealing the story that would soon unfold.
Should she feel guilty for the excitement of this new adventure? Surely not. For what would her life be if she did not have adventure to keep her days lively? Bland, dreary and uninspiring. Instead, she had never felt more alive, more vibrant, more inspired than at this exact moment.
What if she is disappointed? Nonsense. She has everything to gain and nothing to lose. A blank canvas rests at her disposal, or a blank page, as it were, to make her own creation, to write her own story. She will grasp her destiny and shape it as she sees fit. Besides, where is the adventure in not trying something for fear of disappointment? She is uncertain, and things might not be as she dreams, but at least she is trying and in that, she knows she will never be disappointed.
Exhilaration and challenge now mix with the excitement and fear. Nothing will ever be the same for her again!
Nothing will ever be the same.
A moment of sadness stills her pen as this somber thought enters the fray. Everything she loves, everything she knows, will change in her absence. So will she. The person she is now will fade, morphing into a new creature.
And yet, she considers, it is as if she is leaving a party, a wonderful party, at the height of its frivolity. Life is good. Life is full. And now, it will soon all be new. All will change and once again she will learn the dance that will keep her life interesting, challenging and, well, alive!
Spent, and with waning enthusiasm, her pen slows. Dusk begins to settle in the recesses of her mind. A shadow drifts and seeks to claim the rest of the day’s light.
With heavy lids and a satisfied smile on her lips, she lays her pen down and returns to bed, darkness once again permeating everything around, and now in, her.
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