Tag: Photography

I’m in Charge of Now


 

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I’m in Charge of Now

 

“Good morning, Mother Earth.   You’re all aglow in beautiful autumn colors. Where are you going dressed up in such finery?”

 

“What?  You’re off to see the King of Yesterday? Isn’t it too late to see him?  He’s already let opportunities slip by, got caught up in moments when he couldn’t even cry, and now he’s frustrated because he didn’t want to try,” I blurted out.  “If the King of Yesterday had paid attention to time and people around him, the world wouldn’t be in such a mess,

 

There are things he could have done,

 

Fix a bike,

 

Kiss his wife,

 

Hug his son,

 

Call his mom,

 

Smile at someone,

 

There are things he should have done,

 

Walk the dog,

 

Gone to church,

 

Wash his car,

 

Visit friends,

 

Wish upon a star,

 

There are things he might have done,

 

Watch a sunrise,

 

Tell someone he loves her,

 

Hold her hand,

 

Show he cares,

 

Listen and understand,

 

There are things he would have done,

 

If he hadn’t lost his temper,

 

If he had said I’m sorry,

 

If he had not kept score,

 

If he had helped someone,

 

If he had loved more,

 

“Mother Earth, the King of Yesterday is a procrastinator and a loser. It’s plain to see he should be more like me.”

 

“The King of Tomorrow might be the man for you.  He’s ahead of schedule, his days are planned, he will be in charge, and his future is grand.

 

She looked at me steadily.  “I understand.  What you say might be true, but you don’t know the King of Tomorrow like I do.”

 

These are the things he might do,

 

Yell at someone,

 

Ignore his family,

 

Demand to be in charge,

 

Eat and drink more,

 

Live life large,

 

These are things he could do,

 

Go sky diving,

 

Eat better and eat less,

 

Read more,

 

Spend time with family,

 

Open opportunity’s door,

 

These are things he should do,

 

Begin exercises,

 

Give praise, time, and love generously,

 

Lose weight,

 

Keep a journal,

 

Appreciate,

 

Things he will do,

 

Neglect family,

 

Work harder and longer,

 

Let his health go,

 

Stress out,

 

Forget to let his inner being grow,

 

“Surely,” said I, “The King of Tomorrow is not that kind of guy.  He can see yesterday with a discerning eye.  If Yesterday and Tomorrow both pass through Now, Wouldn’t Tomorrow be better somehow?”

 

Mother Earth looked at me sadly before she spoke.  “The King of Tomorrow blames Yesterday and Now, rather than improving himself somehow.  And the King of Now is also to blame.  He doesn’t want to be pinned down and be true to his name.  If Now meant Now and he tried to do good, there’s no way Tomorrow would be misunderstood.”

 

I thought about this for days and even for nights, I could improve myself if I reset my sights,

 

It wouldn’t take much to lighten my load, one or two shifts and I’d be back on the right road.

 

I’d glance at Yesterday from time to time, then urge Tomorrow to keep in his prime.

 

I am in charge of training Now, and I’ll get the job done some way, somehow,

 

The three kings will follow my lead, I’ll help others and lessen my needs,

 

I’m determined for once to keep doing good, for I don’t want Tomorrow to be misunderstood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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3

Without Her…..


 

Soothing Artifact
Soothing Artifact (Photo credit: ifindkarma)

 

She’s in my dreams,

 

Filling me with anticipation,

 

Delighting me with her smile,

 

Soothing me with her warmth,

 

 

 

I will not forget her,

 

Waiting in my memory,

 

Returning night after night,

 

Speaking words of wisdom and love,

 

 

 

I’m not complete without her,

 

Sharing our experiences,

 

Wrapping our future together,

 

Pledging our vows to each other,

 

 

 

She is already missed,

 

Lying there still and quiet,

 

Smiling at my tears,

 

Staring up at nothing at all.

 

 

 

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She’s Unique!


 

1805-courtship-caricature
1805-courtship-caricature (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

She’s unique in every aspect,

 

She stands out in any crowd,

 

I can’t find words to describe her,

 

Except she makes me proud,

 

 

 

She’s a patriot to our country,

 

A mother to our child,

 

She’s the heart of our family,

 

A friend who drives me wild,

 

 

 

Love bubbles over in conversation,

 

There are sparkles in her eyes,

 

Things she does and things she says,

 

Always catch me by surprise,

 

 

 

Why do I think she’s special?

 

I love her more each day,

 

She always treats me like a king,

 

She’s a queen in every way,

 

 

 

How is she different from the others?

 

Why did I ask her to change her name?

 

I’ve always found her intriguing,

 

And it’s clear she loves me the same.

 

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I’m Organic, Not Perfect


 

English: A sign warning about pesticide exposure.
English: A sign warning about pesticide exposure. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

In the produce department,

 

A perfect apple caught my eye,

 

No blemishes, nothing amiss,

 

I thought, “Pesticides! Oh, my!”

 

 

 

Around the corner in another bin,

 

Organic apples awaited hugs,

 

They were far from perfect,

 

They’d been chewed on by bugs,

 

 

 

What a difference between the two,

 

The beautiful shiny outside shell,

 

Or one blemished just like me,

 

One that I understood, oh, too well,

 

 

 

My skin doesn’t have to please anyone,

 

I have become organic but not good,

 

I’m filled with unique qualities all my own,

 

My faults don’t have to be understood,

 

 

 

And the real me is worthy and valuable,

 

Not like the apple that learned to pretend,

 

Shiny and perfect, lying in the next bin,

 

Attracting those who didn’t look within,

 

 

 

No poisons were needed in my life,

 

I’m organic as anyone can see,

 

No artificial coatings protect me,

 

I’m just happy learning to be me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Stone Princess


The Meaning of Life
The Meaning of Life (Photo credit: Jari Schroderus)

“Why am I here?”

 

The thought goes through my mind,

 

There must be a reason,

 

But the answer is hard to find,

 

 

 

“The place is yours while you’re there,

 

Treat it like it’s your own,

 

It needs some work but you’ll see,

 

It’ll make you a very nice home,”

 

 

 

It was not entirely true,

 

The offer he made to me,

 

For hidden behind the scenes,

 

Was the power I could not see,

 

 

 

“Do what she wants to keep the peace,”

 

Her heart has turned to stone,

 

And I could feel her words strike,

 

As they pierced me to the bone,

 

 

 

If I must live under her rule,

 

And bow to her every whim,

 

Then I cannot stay in this place,

 

And let my light grow dim,

 

 

 

I want a place to call my own,

 

To rescue or restore,

 

And should I maintain it well,

 

It’ll last a few years more,

 

 

 

If the stone princess should follow,

 

In an effort to keep control,

 

She’ll lose all she was meant to be,

 

Her heart, her mind, her soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Love Found a Way


 

Golden Valley, AZ sunset funnel cloud
Golden Valley, AZ sunset funnel cloud (Photo credit: Uncle Jerry in Golden Valley, AZ)

 

Red sky at night, sailor's/shepherd's delight.
Red sky at night, sailor’s/shepherd’s delight. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

In the icy throes of winter,

 

Your love was frozen too,

 

My heart hoped for early spring,

 

There was nothing else to do,

 

 

 

Inclement weather and funnel clouds,

 

Took away your romantic bent,

 

I waited for the signs of summer,

 

To show you my intent,

 

 

 

In the sizzling heat of summer,

 

Your heart remained frozen still,

 

Packed among wounds not forgotten,

 

Love had long lost its thrill,

 

 

 

Summer days were too hot,

 

I thought our shadows would melt,

 

You kept me at arm’s length,

 

True love you never felt,

 

 

 

There was one season yet to try,

 

Before all was declared in vain,

 

Autumn rains swept the past away,

 

Allowing love to soothe your pain,

 

 

 

I was patient though eager, too,

 

To see what you might say,

 

When I asked you to marry me,

 

Love finally found a way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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She Shuffles


 

She shuffles down the sidewalk,

 

Rumpled, tired, hungry, and worn,

 

Forgotten is her long ago life,

 

That began when she was born,

 

 

 

Others might claim they love her,

 

Her face is beautiful to see,

 

Yet alone and homeless on her own,

 

She might not agree with me,

 

 

 

She has intelligence and compassion,

 

Her heart touches each broken man,

 

She’s the universal, loving woman,

 

Doing the very best she can,

 

 

 

She comes in all shapes and sizes,

 

From woman to budding girl,

 

She tries to help others she finds,

 

She wants to make this a better world,

 

 

 

She lifts the spirit of mankind,

 

From those troubled to those without hope,

 

She could give up and join the rest,

 

And say she could not cope,

 

 

 

Yet each woman who fills the void,

 

And becomes more than the rest,

 

Is beautiful in my little world,

 

And I think I love her best,

 

 

 

As this one shuffles down the street,

 

I must do more than shrug,

 

I’ll see what I can do for her,

 

Just after I give her a hug.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My House is an Art Gallery


My House is an Art Gallery

My house is a special art gallery,

Flowers and portraits are everywhere,

Waiting for visitors to arrive and share,

Watercolors with true stories to tell,

Eagerly anticipating the doorbell,

Portraits expectantly watch the door,

They’re silent now, for I am easy to ignore,

They’re always there, but wanting more,

At the sight of the first painting my heart leaps,

A girl with dark eyes, above my mantel weeps,

Her teddy bear is tightly clutched in her hands,

“Where are my friends? I don’t understand!”

No one visits her, I shrug and continue on my way,

I don’t have an answer, perhaps another day,

Nearby a tiger protects her cub from intruding force,

Cautiously I tiptoe past and silently leave,

There is no need to challenge her of course,

Ben, a young boy from India, wearing a scarf of red,

Watches intently a few steps up the stair,

“My family has never seen me,” he complains,

“Do they know I’m here? Perhaps they’re not aware.”

A portrait of a gray cat beside the door,

Stares with a proud and haughty air,

She wishes her tail as if she doesn’t care,

But she stays quiet and does not respond,

In the dining room awaiting my inspection,

 A single rose waves to the white amaryllis,

Where ladybugs search the flowers and drink the dew,

They clamor for their share of attention too,

The rose ignores a bright-eyed squirrel that’s ready to play,

 So he chatters at me, “How are you today?”

I retreat into my study and seize my phone,

But a portrait behind me reminds me I’m not alone,

With blood on her fingertips and blood on her lips,

A stern-faced girl admonishes, “Never forget,”

“He came to kill us, he left much to regret,”

“Be ever on guard, always stay alert,”

Within her eyes I can see an eternity of hurt,

Her warning heeded, I leave with a scowl,

In the room above, a wolf surrounded by daisies,

Lifts his head to howl,

In all the commotion I detect some surprise,

In a nearby room reside girls with bright eyes,

“A visitor,” one whispers, “who’s come to see,

 Me, just me, and only me,”

 But another smiles, “I don’t agree,”

In the hall, aware of their conceit,

A boy smiles, but he’s very discrete,

Downstairs in the basement a girl with dreds,

Dominates a wall, unconcerned with all,

That is unfolding before her,

A mischievous clown blows a kiss,

And grins at a sweet young miss,

Sitting pretty upon a bench,

A smile frozen on her face,

She asks, “Do visitors come to this place?”

Her question is reasonable,

But no answer she receives,

I’ve asked myself that question and often I grieve,

But who loves watercolors, beauty, and art?

Oft I’ve invited, I’ve done my part,

So the portraits wait patiently and stare into space,

Ignored and lonely, it’s such a disgrace,

Just me in this house with seventy and more,

Waiting and pacing, treading the floor,

Perhaps you’re ready to come this way,

I’ll check with them to see what they say,

They’ll not object to find you here,

But I want you to know they might stare,

They’re eager to please those who stop by,

They’re lonely without people and I know why,

If no one comes and sees them like this,

I’ll wrap them all up with a goodbye kiss,

I’m tired of being in this house all alone,

I’ll wrap up my treasures and then I’ll be gone

The pictures will be stacked in the dark somewhere,

Away from the crowds and dusty air,

Away from the music they hear all day,

Back to the boxes and tucked away.

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