“Condemned for Loving too Much”
All was quiet in this forgotten town,
Because of the record snow tumbling down,
Yet in the plaza crowds were shopping still,
Looking for entertainment to get their fill,
There were walkers, and talkers, shops all ablaze,
Restaurants still open but countless delays,
Marge was waiting patiently and talking to a friend,
This day had been perfect, she didn’t want it to end,
Somehow, she noticed him, standing off from the crowd,
His gray eyes fixed on her, haughty and proud,
His brown coat, his lean frame, the thin twisted nose,
Why she alone could see him, she could only suppose,
His eyes asked questions, the answers she didn’t dare,
What kind of man was he? One that didn’t care?
Was he an angry ghost or a demon of some kind?
Why were his thoughts penetrating her mind?
Somehow in his hands he held her new fate,
She thought, “Is it possible to love someone you hate?”
As this thought surfaced, Marge pushed it away,
She had never seen him before, not until today,
“He is not attractive,” she thought, “not in the least,”
But he continued to stare at her like she was a feast,
Her face flushed, and deep within the heat began,
Rising in waves until perspiration ran,
She was uncomfortable, she needed time to think,
But he watched her diligently, not once did he blink,
“Is it possible to love your enemy?” she thought,
“What is it about me that’s so eagerly sought?”
She was thirty-three years old for goodness sake,
And ten pounds too heavy, give or take,
Yet she was flattered by his attention even more,
Unlike her friends, all her faults he chose to ignore,
He willed her to move forward, but he didn’t insist,
Although she closed her eyes, she was helpless to resist,
Silently Marge turned, her demon she faced,
When he smiled, her legs trembled, her heart raced,
She took one step forward, two, then three,
She unbuttoned her blouse, letting him see,
She hated him and yet she was offering her kind,
Melting into love, her body yielding to his mind,
Seeking his hatred, demands, contempt to slay,
Doing what she could, loving his hate away,
An act of love determined Marge’s fate,
Is it possible to love, someone you hate?
All is quiet again in this forgotten town,
But there is one less demon standing around,
No one wants to question or be out of touch,
Should Marge be condemned for loving too much?
These gnarled hands once were strong and quick,
Tying fishing lures and shoelaces.
They wiped tears and held your hand,
Kept you safe in scary places.
These feet usually raced you home.
You always thought it was fun.
Then we had days of kicking back,
Relaxing as we soaked up the sun.
These eyes read the words in your favorite books,
Counted stars and vacation miles.
I watched you grow up too quick,
Leaving for school with grown-up smiles.
My heart once thumped loudly at each parade,
As you marched proudly by.
Often we laughed at memories we made.
My! How the years did fly!
The Love I Left Behind
My heart built walls and I could not trust.
With no one to care for, my heart could rust.
I challenged my heart to venture out again.
Because of wounds, it was reluctant to begin.
I was helpless at first, but my love ran deep.
Soon I was searching for a lover to keep.
Walls separated us and I hastened on my way,
Looking for a new relationship to fill my day.
I searched desperately, yet I could not settle down.
A perfect woman was elusive and could not be found.
I became a victim of my own love/hate wars.
Bouncing from love to hate, I blamed failure on the stars.
But surviving was not living, I needed one true love.
I looked for guidance from Venus and Cupid above.
Dreams were all I had, though troubled from the start.
But I did not give up, orders came from my heart.
One last try, I decided, before my search was through.
Then I got lucky, because love brought me to you.
- What is Love? (lovinggodinchaos.com)
- This Valentine, question yourself! (bondsnbinds.wordpress.com)
- Once bitten, twice bold…DO WE LOVE ONLY ONCE IN LIFE? (erumsuchistan.wordpress.com)
- In the Spirit of Valentine (seedsofcolours.wordpress.com)
- What Is This Thing Called Love? (danroberson.wordpress.com)
- Put a little love in your home (pillowsandpaint.wordpress.com)
- “I Love You” How do you say it? (stephanie-hurt.com)
- Ticking hearts (loveandlifeproject.com)
- Cupid Got Your Heart? 15 Signs You’re Really In Love (madamenoire.com)
- Cupid Sometimes Misses Mark (onthehomefrontandbeyond.wordpress.com)
Drunk without drinking.
Nothing is done with ease.
A tightening of muscles,
He dances with his destiny,
And with Parkinson’s Disease.
Restless legs, shakiness of hands,
His feet do not follow directions.
They attach to the floor.
His expression is blank.
His face is a mask.
His body doesn’t work well anymore.
Yet it is a challenge,
To discover what he can still do.
As he greets each and every day,
Supplements to loosen the knots,
His future is still bright.
Being optimistic is the only way.
by Dan Roberson
There was a day that crashed with thunder,
I knew it didn’t matter what I was under,
The storm would find my hiding place.
While I grabbed my years of treasure,
All the objects that gave me pleasure,
Were whisked away without a trace.
Yet when the sun came out beaming again,
I considered the love that remained within.
I did not see values and all it would cost,
Nor the objects I used to treasure,
Or all the things I forgot to measure.
I saw the faces of dear ones I thought lost.
Are You Too Busy?
I make cries for help,
but no one listens.
He comes for me at night,
Where are my protectors?
I’m asking you,
What should I do?
She screams at me,
and tells me I’m no good.
In his drunken stupor,
He claims me for his own.
Don’t stand and stare,
Show me you care.
She gives me nothing to eat,
and beats me when I cry.
I am a prisoner in his home,
Why is no one searching?
Are you too busy in your day,
to help me find a way?
There are drugs everywhere,
And I am forced to be a slave.
I may be from another country,
or I might be from your street.
I am your neighbor or your kin,
Please don’t judge me by my skin.
There is no heaven for me,
and hell follows me everywhere.
The days are long and dreary,
But my nights are never ending.
If I can’t count on you,
Then what should I do?
I want life to be worthwhile,
Until my last fleeting breath.
Life to you might be precious,
Yet sometimes I yearn for death.
Are you too busy in your day,
to help me find a way?
The Garden of Diminishing Returns
There were cantaloupes, squash, tomatoes galore,
Green beans, watermelons, green peppers and more,
Growing fast, trying to crawl out of sight,
I swear I could hear the garden growing at night,
But in the mornings when I checked the plants,
The vegetables were half eaten and covered with ants,
No matter what I tried or wherever I turned,
The results were the same—-diminishing returns!
I sat out in my chair with my dog on the lawn,
Hoping to see some critters, I’d wait until dawn,
Ground squirrels were scurrying, rabbits came dancing,
Cicadas were chirping, deer were prancing,
Everywhere I looked there was some kind of motion,
The garden was alive with activity and commotion,
Chomping new flowers and munching new shoots,
The animals were all dressed in their evening suits,
There was a call to order and they all sat down,
The biggest rabbit was worried, I could tell by his frown,
“We’ve got to control the rabbits at school,
There’s been multiplication against the rule,
Not everyone stays seated until a lesson is through,
This is outrageous! What shall we do?
Deer have been entering and then going out,
I’m not sure what’s that all about,
And the squirrels have been going nuts,
So there you have it, no ifs, ands, or buts,
We’ll have to move on and find new grounds,
This garden will be tagged as “out of bounds”,
But if we destroy too much we’ll soon learn,
One small garden yields diminishing returns,”
They thumped out a vote and gave him a hand,
It was clear they agreed with his conservative stand,
The majority was liberal enough to see,
If they harvested carefully enough there’d be,
If each did his share, working part of each day,
There would also be time to sleep and play,
He explained if they wanted, they could help him with stuff,
So they planted, watered, and did more than enough.
He told them that they still had lots to learn,
Because no one wins with diminishing returns.
That old rabbit spoke with authority before he disappeared underground,
I’m glad I stayed alert and wrote it all down.
That garden was a life source to all, including me,
It brought a new way of thinking for us to get along,
And I really like those critters, don’t get me wrong.
But if someone thinks I’m feeding that complete herd,
That’s way out of line, kind of crazy, absurd!
Okay, just a nibble. I grew tons of stuff.
If all of you are careful there’s more than enough!
The sprinklers went off and woke me from a dream,
I can’t quite remember what made me want to scream.
But now I have a peaceful feeling way deep inside,
And when I look at my garden I have a sense of pride.
Every row is trimmed, organized, and neat,
But I could almost swear I see some little feet.
My garden is growing right up to the sky,
And on my doorstep this morning was a strawberry pie.
I always thought gardening would be hard to learn,
I knew there was a problem with diminishing returns.