By judester
She took a deep breath, opened the door
so much to say, she could take it no more!
Her husband sat, reading the news
words flew in sparks, a verbal blown fuse.
''A woman needs love, tender and sweet,
a soft place to be, when she's tired and beat.
Timely caresses, a hand on her back
someone behind her, to pull up the slack.
She needs to know, that she is heard.
Understood, cherished, with actions and words.
A compliment, kudos, when she's feeling low,
someone who knows just what to bestow.
Simply, a partner to share her world."
There! She has said it, her feelings unfurled,
She stood defiant, holding back tears,
he folded his paper,
"What's that, my dear?"
| Author Notes | Thanks to angel467 for the perfect illustration |
By judester
With a weary sigh~
I toss literary gems
to the gathered scribes.
| Author Notes | Thanks to GaliaG for the artwork. Exceptional genius, me. smh. |
By judester
snowy boots stamping~
our Canadian greeting,
as each guest arrives.
By judester
compassion denied~
huddled poor met with soldiers,
tear gas, taunts, barbed wire.
| Author Notes | Thanks to btowngirl for the artwork. Just going to leave this here. |
By judester
Christmas tree, fragrantly green, pride of place.
Fairy lights shining bright, untangle
upon the boughs, baubles dangle.
Chipped, worn seasonal bangles.
Silvered tinsel shivers
in slivers, glimmers.
Grandma's angel
placed gently
on high.
Sighs.
| Author Notes | Thanks once again to Angelheart for the perfect artwork. I guess I should have written this backwards, to make the perfect tree, sigh. |
By judester
I could write of flowers,
that precious new-born kiss.
Spinning joyful words of praise
and stacks of store bought gifts.
The gift for Mothers, simply this
their child living in bliss.
This testifies her sacrifice,
the bouquets, she won't miss.
So tell your mom how happy
you are, with ardent grace.
Then watch the smile move from her heart,
onto her loving face.
| Author Notes | Thanks to MoonWillow for the perfect flowers. I know that the best gift for my mom, is my genuine happiness. Bless. |
By judester
Christmas time is lovely,
birthdays, fourth of July.
Thanksgiving, I prepare the feast,
weddings, I usually cry.
St. Patrick's day, I'm wearing green
I love the party scene,
just one day I can't abide,
that day is Halloween.
Pumpkins make me shiver
candy gives me shakes,
then the creepy costumes
and the noise those ghouls make.
Though I love a holiday,
this is one I dread.
On Halloween don't look for me,
in tears, beneath my bed.
| Author Notes | Thanks to eileen0204 for the artwork. |
By judester
A man with everything~
to gilded nothingness,
he clings.
| Author Notes | Thanks to avmurray for the perfect illustration. Just going to leave this here. |
By judester
Broken
pieces
of your life gathered,
create a kaleidoscope.
In retrospect, art.
| Author Notes | Thanks to helvi2 for the perfect illustration. Takes the sting out of regret. |
By judester
He shoots his cuffs, straightens the tie.
Pleased with this image, I don't know why.
Outside the chants, rise from the crowd,
"Build the wall!" Defiant and loud.
He struts onstage, his ego glows.
A small boy whispers,
"he has no clothes."
| Author Notes | Thanks again Miss Cleo85. Trump and the wall. argh. |
By judester
tangerine sunrise
lights the old fisherman's path
to his wooden boat
she wakes him gently
to share their first pink sunrise,
honeymoon morning
coral sky unfurls
as young boys kick soccer ball,
village school bell rings
Indian ocean
sparkles, as I slip beneath
the sun dappled waves
By judester
Whispers amplify the pain,
he checks his tie, wipes brow again.
The organ plays, resonates.
His bride appears,
hours late.
| Author Notes | Thanks to MoonWillow for the artwork. phew. |
By judester
Tom tried to remember what the stupid argument had been about. He only recalled her being so angry, throwing the bird feeder filled with seeds, at his head!
They had made up eventually, but their relationship was never the same.
It has now been three months since she died and the bitter pain of regret still washes over him daily.
Now Tom sits alone on the veranda, the morning sun warms the tears on his face.
With a wry grin and a sigh, he watches her beloved birds hover, taking the seeds, one by one, from those wildly sowed sunflowers.
| Author Notes | Thanks to willie for the artwork. |
By judester
The women seek nirvana,
happy sunbeams play.
Everybody stretches
in yoga class today.
Over by the window seat,
graceful in his doze,
a young boy joins the morning class,
crouched in the child's pose.
Lying on his mother's mat
in balasana dreams,
sometimes we find clarity,
sleeping on sun beams.
| Author Notes | Thanks to Dick Lee Shia for the artwork. |
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