Coordinated Poem

Every movement

Thought

Deliberate

Considered;

We are intertwined

Completely,

With our lives,

Our dreams,

Our family

Coordinated intricately

One day

One decade 

At a time.

book poem

Prose and Morals, Lousia May Alcott 

I mentally breathe in the musty smell,

The old fashioned comfort,

Like my great grandmother's quilt wrapped around me,

As I tap to open.

The world has gone crazy, 

People have lost basic morals,

Societal structure,

Decency to others; I have just been 

In the crosshairs.

I read the comforting, 19th century view; 

Little women who were strong, where

Tragedy informed character.

Simple vantage, but powerful;

I remind myself how we should act.

LMA's sketches are

A balm of comfort when the world has

Rubbed me raw;

The red strand of morals running through

So anyone can pick up a bit, 

And remind themselves of how it should be,

When people respect others.

Linger....Poetry Wednesday

The band of pain around my chest,

Red hot

A breath is torture, daring my lungs to betray me into

A coughing fit.

This cannot linger,

I have too many commitments to 

Keep.

Under the Weather...

She was exhausted,

Sad,

fighting through the haze of the clouds,

outside and in.

Rest was not restful,

Because adrenaline rushed her,

making a peaceful bed wired.

The dark cloud settled above her head,

Figuratively of course,

And proceeded to shade her thoughts

Grey and gloomy.

A sliver of sunshine may help,

but

She's under the weather, with no intention

of throwing back the covers.