Poets Are Like the Bees

Our world is full of flowers,

And poets are like the bees,

Pollinating the world with words,

Stirring the social breeze,

Orienting to the sun we fly,

We carry truths near and away,

Returning laden with nuggets of gold,

Gleaned from what people say,

Thus we enrich each teeming city,

As we chase the darkness with light,

And rid ourselves of fears and chains,

With each cleansing flight,

Our dreams are filled with hope,

As we swarm to new ideals,

Working to comfort wounded hearts,

Tirelessly sharing what we feel.

 

 

 

When Cancer Strikes

Image by Saad.Akhtar via Flickr

When Cancer Strikes    (Part one, Curly Hair)

It was both
a blessing and a curse,

Her chestnut
hair was often tangled or worse,

There were
times Laura hated her hair,

Conditioners,
detanglers, moisturizers,

Sometimes made
her wish it wasn’t there,

 

It had been
that way as far back as memory could get,

Uncontrollable
when dry, hard to manage when wet,

Laura’s
curly hair was admired often, she’d confess,

But it was
often a distraction as a frizzy mess,

There weren’t
many options on how to fix her hair,

She worried when
the wind made it fly here and there,

Often Laura
looked out of control and people would rudely stare,

 

Looking
calm, peaceful, and beautiful was her goal,

Forgotten were
the comments about her beauty as a whole,

Intelligence
and her abilities made her special in all she did,

But under
hats, tied up in tight braids, her curly hair she hid,

 

Laura was a
businesswoman, ambitious in every way,

Determined to
be a success before she turned old and gray,

Laura was
also wife and mother with two children on her mind,

Time for
them or even for herself, was very hard to find,

 

Her husband
sent her flowers every month to let her know,

That he would be waiting for her if she decided to take life slow,

Her life was filled from dawn till night, with one job to the next,

Rarely did
she spend quality time with Joe, and both were too tired for sex,

Vacations
were quick and far away, with pictures to prove she was there,

But wherever
she went and whatever she did, she covered up her hair,

 

Questions
from a young M.D. on her routine annual exam,

Made her mad
when he said, “We need further tests for you, Ma’am,”

She went
through the tests mainly to prove him wrong,

Much to her
chagrin blood was drawn, it didn’t take them long,

Laura balked
at first when new appointments were made,

But soon she
was on her way and memories of the visit began to fade,

 

Later that week several phone calls at work interrupted
her day,

“We want you
to come in, not tomorrow, perhaps yesterday,”

“What’s so important?”
she wondered as she brushed tangles from her hair,

“I’ve always
been so healthy, so why should I care?”

That night
Laura brushed her hair ninety-nine times or more,

With each
tug she commented, “Curly hair is such a chore,”

 

But Laura
was restless, the upcoming visit was eating at her,

And at her
next appointment she decided she would concur,

“You have
cancer,” he said quietly, “we should treat it aggressively,”

“I don’t
have time for cancer!” she shouted, “or even time for me,”

“We need to
treat it with chemotherapy,” he stated, “as soon as we can,”

“If we want
to win this war, we have to make a plan,”

“Doctor, I’m
too busy for this, I’ll do chemo in the spring,”

“Then they’ll
bury you deep while you sleep, the chemo won’t mean a thing,”

 

The nurse
read a list of changes that Laura might expect,

Foods to
eat, nausea, loss of hair, there was little time to reflect,

She could
deal with changes in her diet, so why did she care,

Yet on her
way home one thought returned, she would lose her hair,

 

What would
she do about work, would everyone lose respect?

And what
about her children and her Joe, what would he expect?

“This is not
fair,” she thought, “I’ve fought hard to get where I am,

Now I have
cancer and that puts me in a jam,”

She’d talk
to the doctors and see how this could be fixed,

Laura knew
how business worked, maybe this could be deep sixed,

When Cancer Strikes
(Part 2, Birds of
a Feather)

She was
afraid to hug her husband, likewise with the kids,

With this
draining more from her, their marriage would be on the skids,

Joe listened
to her intently and suggested a group for her to attend,

“I don’t
need a support group,” she countered, “I just want to mend,”

He left a
number of the group in case she wanted to call,

For two days
Laura wanted nothing to do with the group at all,

 

But the
third evening as she brushed and detangled her hair,

Laura
wondered what others did when strangers began to stare,

She called a
cell phone number knowing she had to make a choice,

She agreed
to go to a meeting when she heard a cheerful voice,

“Come on and
join us, we’ll have a special guest tonight,

You’ll find
we have lots of fun because no one gets uptight,”

Nervously she
brushed her hair as she waited for her ride,

In the car
it was explained she’d have to wait outside,

 

Waiting outside
a home made her feel this was not the place to be,

But she only
had time to see what they wanted her to see,

Conspicuously
placed was a sign stating the group’s name,

“Birds of a
Feather” and in smaller print, “We’re all the same,”

 

Laura was
led in at the appointed time but saw one empty chair,

“It’s saved
for you,” a woman called out, “and your beautiful hair,”

How could
she explain that soon her head would soon be bare,

She was
afraid they might laugh and show they didn’t care,

Laura’s fear
was growing as she glanced about the room,

She was the
only one with cancer and ready to meet her doom,

 

Businesswomen,
single women, mothers, daughters, wives,

These women
were all beautiful and had normal lives,

“We have a newcomer tonight, so welcome Laura
with applause,”

The leader
continued, “And in case she’s worried, it’s time for us to pause,

We’ve faced
our fears before, and sometimes hid our shame,

But together
we are strong and our freedom we proclaim,”

 

One by one
each removed a wig to reveal her hair was gone,

“We’re all
in this together, no one is all alone,”

Their smiles
were wide and welcoming as the leader took her hand,

“When you
can, let Laura know that you really understand,”

 

When the
meeting was over Laura returned home,

She kissed
her children and showed them her comb,

She
explained her disease and told them about her hair,

They answered,
“We love you, mommy, we don’t care,”

Her husband,
Laura learned, was compassionate and kind,

He loved her
for her heart, her ambition, and her mind,

They decided
to fight cancer together and strive for the best,

And they’d
spend more time living and loving with zest,

The cancer
went into remission and Laura grew back her hair,

And whether tangled,
frizzy, or wind blown, now she combs with flair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Frozen in Full Bloom

Image via Wikipedia

The cherry trees were in full bloom,

A swath of pink blossoms too early, too soon,

It has only been a week since the snow fell,

And my life changed from heaven into a cold hell,

Why am I lying here staring into that soft pink?

Why do I feel so paralyzed that it’s hard to even think?

Why is it that the things that should be so very right,

Become issues of the heart, wounds and tears in the night?

I cannot close my eyes for I see you now with him,

Remember my rage when I said he couldn’t be your friend?

Of course, you didn’t know that I was suspicious long ago,

And followed you one night as you braved the driving snow,

“Off to take care of my sick sister, her temperature is so high,”

You whispered you loved me and then kissed me goodbye,

Of course, the cherry trees were budding, covering up your lie,

They were promising spring too early, Somehow I could tell,

And your pink lips looking inviting, inviting me to hell,

Did you think my love was too thin, like the ice upon the pond?

Or did his love touch your heart, and fuel your fires to bond?

Did you think I would stand idly by, while you took your time to choose?

 I’ve got my pride, I don’t think I’ll wait, even if I lose,

You say you will always love me even though you don’t really “love” me,

He added spice to your life, made your love easy to feel and see,

But should you decide you need stability, just ring my warning bell,

With flowers and sweets I’ll escort you down, to my life in my cold, cold hell.

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I’ve Planted Flowers Along the Way

Image via Wikipedia

My path has varied from time to time,

The mountains chosen were hard to climb,,

There are tasks I wish I’d done,

And things I wish I’d left undone,

But there were flowers along the way,

And strings of lights as bright as day,

Within the poems I wish I’d said,

The secrets of journeys where my path led, 

 I didn’t go to many faraway lands,

And learn the languages to understand,

But hearts I’ve touched with silver words,

Encouraged the forlorn with things they heard,

There are flowers I’ve planted where I’ve stayed,

And lights that twinkle where I’ve strayed,

 I may have wandered far and wide,

Yet I’ve learned to take life in stride,

I’ve tried to help those I saw in need,

Gave them strength, from bondage freed,

 I’ve planted flowers along the way,

And fastened lights as bright as day,

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring,

Though a twisted past I wouldn’t change a thing,

If you touch others with your words,

Let it resonate with all you’ve heard.

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Run Where The Flowers Grow

Image via Wikipedia

I couldn’t believe my eyes,

Dad had brought home a surprise,

A black and white cocker spaniel,

Just a puppy, but she meant the world to me,

She was happy, playful, and made me smile,

Lady came when I called her, eager to please,

We were two friends, always at ease,

The two of us discovered the world anew,

Bonded by our hearts, our friendship grew,

Sniffing flowers, chasing birds,

I read stories and she listened to every word,

When she was two she followed me down,

 The dirt roads to the grocery store in our town,

We encountered few cars that hot summer day,

 Crossing the two lane county road on our way,

Before I got groceries the owner and I had a debate,

 But he said, “No dogs allowed. She’ll have to wait,”

When I looked for her, she had crossed the street,

Busily sniffing flowers, or looking for bugs to eat,

My first thought was, “She shouldn’t be over there.”

 Without thinking, I whistled, loud and clear,

The shrill sound hanging expectantly in the air,

It was then that I saw a speeding car,

And realized that it wasn’t very far,

At the same time I saw Lady raise her head,

And obediently towards me she sped,

Smiling with every stride,

“Stop, Lady, stop!” I wish I’d cried,

But I was frozen, watching this nightmarish scene,

The car and Lady, the gap closing in between,

There was a loud “Whump!”

Time stopped and I had no need for air,

The car had hit Lady and the driver seemed unaware,

He slowed, then sped up, I knew he didn’t care,

I ran to her and dropped to my knees,

 “Lady, get up! I’m sorry, please,”

But I held a lifeless form tight,

Wishing with all my might,

That this was just a bad dream in the night,

I walked home in a trance,

Angry at myself for what I had done,

“Why did I whistle without a glance?

Why had I done this to my friend?”

Blaming myself over and over again,

 Tears streaming down my face,

Somehow managing to carry her to our place,

Where Mom took the groceries,

Telling me to hold Lady for a few minutes more,

Until I collapsed spiritless on the floor,

The next day a private ceremony with a prayer,

Only family was invited there,

My heart pounded and my head hurt,

And with each shovelful of dirt,

I thought I could hear a whistle blow,

Before I left, I leaned down and whispered softly,

“Run, Lady, run, where the flowers grow.”

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