his face when
we give him a new toy
Here is one of my longer poems. I will mostly share haiku this month.
Watching the Clock
How many hours do we spend watching
the steel hands sweep the face of time?
Praying for them to speed up
then days later wishing they’d slow down.
At some point in time you realize:
Watching the clock makes time go slower.
So you try to stop counting the minutes.
Then you wonder, When did I get crows feet?
When did I start calling the kids
begging them to come over?
Wasn’t it just yesterday
that I was pushing them out the door to play?
When laying in a hospital bed
you would almost swear that the nurses
turn back the clock when you’re not looking.
And the sluggish pace of the hands
are more painful than the IV in your arm.
But if you’re enjoying an Italian dinner
the minutes fly by like wine from a tipped glass.
Sitting in a rocking chair with a baby,
who has been crying for hours,
makes the minutes creep.
You encourage the big hand to touch the 6
so that your husband will be home to help.
When friends are over for a bar-b-que
the hands laugh their way past time to go.
The clock is a bi-polar warden,
and we are at his mercy.
This picture is proof that I can do Pinterest projects and that Facebook is not a total waste of time. Do you ever argue with your spouse about where your child gets certain traits? Sometimes my husband and I can’t decide who he gets his characteristics from because my husband and I have similar temperaments.
If you are liking the haiku that I am writing, be sure to follow me on your favorite sites. You can follow me on Bloglovin’ and Twitter and Facebook and Instagram. You can also follow me by RSS or by email, by scrolling all the way to the bottom of this post and clicking the correct link. If you are a WordPress user, don’t forget to hit follow down in the corner.
call him early
or call me incompetent
we were in God’s hands
I have been reluctant to share this one because I am not sure what to write with it. I guess since I believe 3 line poems are powerful enough to stand on their own, you don’t need an explanation. I will say that my baby boy was born at 37 weeks, and was just days past being “premature.” Statistics say this is why he is slightly asthmatic.
This was written for a National Haiku Writing Month prompt on Facebook. I don’t know why I haven’t shared it yet.
I’m at 698 followers for this blog. If you’re reading this and not following me yet, think about making this the week, and help me get to 700. Encourage friends to follow me and help me get to 1,000 followers!
This is a psalm written by me.
Writing to keep the demons away,
writing to keep my fears at bay.
How silly it looks written down,
why am I wearing this frown?
Worry paves a path across my forehead.
My mind fills with dread.
Pacing in the kitchen I pray:
“Healthy and happy, let us all stay.”
So many things to wash, no time to sit still.
To forget about this I do not have the will.
So I pick up The Good Book for comfort
where He talks about all kinds of hurt.
God is there in Heaven above
with mercy He sends down His great love.
A sigh of relief slips past my lips.
I have found some good coping tips.
He will not give us more than we can carry,
but tonight the future is scary.
One day there will be no more tears
with this I silence my fears.
Sitting here I pray for the easy path,
praying to escape the wrath
of whatever demon lies beyond my door.
The battle will make me love God more.
Give me a sword God, give me a shield,
help me to make it across this field.
This post linked to dVerse on 12-13-2016. Click here to see the other poets’ work.
the lesson of shoe strings
my kit growing up
This was written after I found Botaiku prompt 470 on Twitter.
I used to try to always post my haiku in the season that I wrote them, or in the season they were written. But now I am just sharing them as time allows. The picture is from August of 2016, when we went back to Sea*Life and G got to meet Captain Barnacles and he became an honary Octonaut.
I am ripped open
But it’s weeks
Before I realize
My mind has been
Ripped open too.
Diapers and bottles
Keep me rushing about
But after I have
Some time to reflect
I realize how different
Not just the house
Not just my routines
My reaction to movies
I’ve seen a dozen times
To crying children
To grown men
Going to jail for life
Nothing is simple anymore
And I can see
The child in every person
I can see mistakes
It’s as if the scales
Have fallen from
I wrote this a long time ago. I was going to wait to share a lot of my poems until I could write a book, but I don’t see a book of motherhood poetry selling well (I don’t want to self-publish, I want a company to do it.). Also, I will not be done writing my mommy poetry for probably another 20 years.
Written in January of 2016.
I wrote this 13 months ago.
Also, something really weird happened on my computer. I take a lot of photos specifically for my blog. I organize them in folders, such as flowers, people, animals, et Cetera. Well, a couple of weeks ago while I was organizing new photos into my folders, my people folder just disappeared. I tried hitting “undo” but it still didn’t show up. When I was creating this post last week I noticed there were photos in my folders that I have already used on my blog. Usually, when I use a photo, I put it in the “already used” folder so that you guys never see the same photo twice. Well, things are all mixed up now, and I literally do not have the time to sort them, or to take more photos. So you might see familiar photos for a month or so. I will try to pick pretty ones, I hope you all aren’t too bored and continue to take the time to read my work.