Charlie

She was talking rather loudly, 

 it forced her petals to turn out ever so slightly.

Delicate her appearance,

but a throaty squelch of a voice.

Yes, she was a bitch of a flower.

Some would argue more like a weed.

You'd never know though.

Her vibrant color

and lines,

her fluted rim.

She stood tall & strong.

Tough against the wind.

But the lillys were crowding her out!

Conflicting with her violet ting.

"Orange is the color of ditch weed!" 

she said.

"Go back to where you've been!"

But the lilly's paid no mind,

to her hollering.

An empty can they said.

They knew her ranting was purely 

her jealousy. 

Her vanity & fierce voice,

more of a harsh prim.

For her life span was already beginning to end.

And the lilly's were hearty & didn't give a shit!

But she still ranted at them,

squawked & sputtered,

and whined,

much more like she was a belly ache.

"You weren't suppose to open until next week!

And NOW you're crowding me!

Your so big & so pushy! GIVE ME A BREAK!"

She lambasted the lilly's in 

her self-serving fashion, 

until there came a voice from below...

it was the creeping charlie, 

trying to chime in.

She snapped,

"What do you know!?"

"Well BLUE, if you don't mind,

I, too, could use some sunshine!

And a few more drops of the rain water would also be fine!"

"Hush you weed! Who pretends to flower!

Who asks you anyhow!

Get back to the ground & creep away, 

as my roots loathe you. 

And you bruise by delicate petals!"

Charlie lay down & bunched himself up.
The lilly's just laughed as they do.

While they watched

Blue's edges start to turn brown.

"You're already starting to wither

you delicate frail flower!

And the bees haven't even come around...."

The lily's giggle & gaggle some more.

"OH STOP your bantering at me

It's dulling my color!"

But her vibrancy was fleeting

with sun as it began to set.

And the lily's carried on,

she got not a wink of rest.

By morning, her voice had been spent.

Her petals turned inward,

there was nothing left.

And Charlie climbed up to her,

as she was too weak to cast him out.

He shared his love & affection

with the beautiful prim. 

He told of her real beauty, 

which was from within.

She seeped a little dew,

she reserved for her last breathe,

and rolled onto Charlie.

It was her end.

The lilly's continued their cavorting.

They laughed at Charlies's pain.

Back to the ground he covered

as if nothing had been gained. 

But then the lilly's to began to turn,

that ugly shade of brown.

And Charlie  crawled up their sturdy stalks,

and said they could settle down now.

The sun is now the highest,

and the rains will be the warmest.

And you've given me a place to dwell.

And here I will slumber, 

On the distant voices of your vanity 

& arrogance you tried to atone.

And in this peaceful place,

so high & bright,

does a wondering weed truly wallow!

Photography by Sammi Peters

In A Day

In a day, things change.

In a day, what was once your course, is no more. It's usually not what you anticipated.

In a day, your inner light can become dim, clouded & unclear. Your soul is requesting solace.

In a day, the temperature can drop, making the air far to thin...it affects your disposition.

In a day, clarity becomes a blur or so acute it burns.

In a day, your belief system can be shaken & leave you with questions reeling in your head.

In a day, what was beautiful sweet smelling fruit, crisp fresh vegetables, can just go bad.

In a day, half of your light bulbs can burn out, especially in appliances & those light fixtures that need ladders.....now that's a job!

In a day, that song you've listened to for decades driving down the road, takes on a whole different meaning...an ah-ha moment or quite possibly a tearful one.

In a day, the coffee pot breaks, the washer goes to hell & your car starts making noises that when imitated to the mechanic, make your children break out into hysterics, until they realize you may be without a car for awhile. These are double White Russian days....

In a day, you can be happy & sad, remorseful & proud, lost & alone, candid & cryptic.

In a day, you can proclaim CARPE' DIEM & it works out as loudly as you proclaimed.

In a day, your can loose someone you love & a child is born precisely at that same moment.

In a day, you can choose the right path or by pure curiosity, the wrong path.

In a day, you can eat all the ice cream & chocolate in the house.

In a day, you could be having a long-over-due lunch with a childhood girlfriend & by that afternoon she's been diagnosed with breast cancer.

In a day, the weather can go from 60 to 28 with high winds & heavy snow & your fridge is empty.

In a day, a river can nearly wipe out a small community & then recede nearly just as fast.

In a day, you can start with prayer & gratitude & hope for a miricle, before having to abandon your home.

In a day, you can fall in love.

In a day, you can fall out of love.

In a day, you can float around remembering the romances of your youth.

In a day, you can remember WHY you broke up & your how your thoughts on romance changed.

In a day, there are hundreds of moments that you can miss by being preoccupied.

In a day, you can have your cake & eat it too.

In a day, you can find that voice that you've pushed down for so long.

In a day, you can humbly smile for having used that voice, however quiet or small.

In a day, you can be overwhelmed with sorrow for the pain in a war torn country.

In a day, you can ask the universe to end those wars & bring relief to those who suffer so.

In a day, your words can change a little, a lot, or so much it's hard to believe it's real.

In a day, you can get a tattoo, do something random & eat a triple scoop in a sugar cone instead of shots of Quervo, because getting up with no regrets & a clear head in the morning matters.

In a day, you could say goodbye & welcome someone new into your life, leaving you exhausted afterwards while feeling utterly grateful.

In a day, what you can choose to love or hate, be kind or mean or lean in & listen more.

In a day, if it matters, the matters that be, then all that matters, will sit perfectly with thee.

So how will you be & how will it matter, all that you think, do or play, in a day?

....maybe it was your today?

slow crawl back to me

I woke up here...

It's not someplace I know.

Seems it's been quite awhile.

It's left me feeling a bit stiff & sore.

So I stretch.

I'm dry & hungry.

Beyond parched.

Yet I'm feeling a pull.

A gentle tug.

I stretch again.

I have someplace I must go,

But I've forgotten my way.

I stretch again.

As it awakens me.

I know I can get there,

That place I need to be.

Something begins to wash over me.

I'm alive again!

The journey's been long.

And its made me weary.

Exhausted, really.

With each small movement,

I grow stronger.

I can hear sounds of there,

Motivating me.

Driving me to push on.

To continue this path,

As a life calls to me.

The suffering eases,

And a pace has taken hold.

Where once I was, 

Is now gone.

Fading memories,

As if washed out to sea.

I am no longer weary or

Dry as a bone.

I'm rejuvenated.

And I am there.

It's right in front of me.

Meeting me part way.

I unload the last of my burdens,

As they have been heavy, 

This journey from inside of me.

Its like a slow crawl to the sea.

Fighting towards the tide.

The ebb & flow of life's demands,

And consequences there lie.

This journey,

I know not.

Yet familiar?

It is, as if, I already knew.

I am in receipt, 

Of how I am to go.

Though I am not a starfish,

With a slow & methodical pace.

My direction is clear,

Like a slow crawl to the sea.

As tides have a consistant rhythum,

With its sands on the oceans bottoms flow.

It's currents & conditions are like the life I know.

I let go & accept its force,

Carrying me away.

I am at home.

And may I never leave.

I went to the edge,

And it almost took me away.

But instead,

It brought me home.

A place I belong & need.

I will not travel so close to the edge,

And let the life's tide cast me ashore.

That slow crawl back to the sea,

Will be my life no more.

Dedicated to a muse, Lauretta Zuchetti, my friend....

Wild Child

She ran around, wild as the wind.

So often no shoes or a care in the world.

Experiencing life.

Let it teach you what you want to know.

Fall down, get up, run some more.

The seasons didn't stop her,

The consequence was but a brief interruption.

But time was the corrupter,

And youth slipped away.

The wild turned to troubles,

And things dramatically changed.

She found herself astounded & a bit amazed!

The whole world doesn't live like this?

Frolicking & free?

The table is for gathering?

The clothes have different meanings?

And hugs can mean something more?

What's responsibility?

She threw off her shoes & ran off,

Believeing she was free.

But everntually consequences stick,
More like a trip you take down the stairs.

And then, what was wonderlust,

Turned into a lifetime gig.

It isn't so easy, taming ones soul.

In the midst, somewhere down the line, 

A life of those negatives,

Had somehow taken there toll.

She found her brass ring,

And quickly she took hold.

Because somewhere in that playfullnes,

And searching she was told.

You need a solid foundation,

A place you can call home.

Time went on, and her children grown,

With challenges, heartache & sometimes despair.

But she had lived many a life,

Wandering the streets here & there.

She understood, more than anyone could ever know.

That living life, brought her love,

And consequences began to fold.

She isn't old & wrinkley yet, 

Though the battle has begun.

She's finding what her skin feels like,

And how that life has gone.

She looks at it more pragmatically,

Until that past pops in.

And she is then confronted with,

What she did back then.

But what she found surprised her.

What she felt & thought didn't matter,

As it never left a footprint. Not a scratch, nor a dent.

She was welcomed with joy & aprreciation,

And laughter of time spent.

It's was tables turned ironically,

To right, a wrong she felt.

It was a moment of reckoning,

It was a healing moment for her heart.

Though this moment, 

Was defined as temporary,

She had a little remorse.

What she thought of herself as terrible,

Was just part of life's course.

It gave her clarity,
And less deepend remorse.

The times we think we understand,
So often opens up & gently closes a door.

It is lifes little way,
Of changing our direction, our course.
This door will never go away,

It's purpoe is quite clear.

When faced with trauma, hurt & despair.

It's there to remind of you,

Of how far you' have come.

And that with today's intent,

Can continue to spread your love.

Because purity in the heart,

And in the base of your foundation,

Makes all wrong doings right again,

And all the pain melt.

She is still a wonderlust child,

Shining her light on the world.

She is still gregareous & so much fun,

Just respectful of rules in the world.

And that doens't constrain her,

From how her nature is.

It actually defines her,

To share the light she lives.

For Shayne

She Dreamed in Color

She dreamed in color.
She thought everyone did.
People told her it was her imagination.
She said, "I KNOW!"
It's  CATACLYSMIC!
"Your crazy", they said...
She didn't care.
She thought them sad.
How horrid to not dream in color.