Mirrors of my Soul Read online

  Slowly we began the task with much hesitation

  Will we ever need these items for donation?

  We tried not to dwell on that possibility

  Instead we decided to let it go and see

  We now feel less burdened by material things

  And look ahead to what our new life brings

  Dead From the Neck Up

  I’m dead from the neck up, I suppose

  I noticed I’m wearing ripped panty hose

  I’m dull as dishwater, slow as molasses

  I’m up my tree, I’ve lost my glasses

  Where are my keys, my hat, my coat?

  I can’t believe I’ve got my own goat

  It’s a senior moment; I pause and think

  Of what I needed; Stop! I’m into the drink

  The bubblies bring me such relaxation

  That I forget where I want to go on vacation

  I read that book; you know, the most recent tale

  Of our favorite author—she just got out of jail

  I’m resting for a moment and then I’ll go upstairs

  To get all the items needing special repairs

  On my way I stop and think, where did I hide that bubbly

  drink?

  All of a sudden I realize the error of my ways

  I pop all my pills as dawn changes into day

  I’m alive and kicking; I’m a feisty grand dame

  My teacher is experience; life is my game

  Perfection

  I am only average in height and weight

  I am sometimes in a sorry state

  I’m a brunette with gray in my roots

  I’m imperfectly perfect—in size 10 boots!

  I’m a little lumpy around the waist

  Where gravity’s pull cannot be erased

  I’m a little freckled from the sun

  I’m imperfectly perfect—but into fun!

  I love chocolate, jam, and French fries

  My zest for life I cannot disguise

  I’m a gal of vision, inside and out

  I’m imperfectly perfect—that’s what I’m all about!

  If you look inside my mind and heart

  You’ll see a real person, just for a start

  One who has felt life’s deepest sorrow

  But one who always believes in tomorrow

  I’m imperfectly perfect—that’s what I say

  And I hope I’ll always remain that way!

  Love Questions Itself

  in Middle Age

  Foreboding, shaking, wanting, forsaken

  Heaviness of heart, sadness, doubts, fears

  Stupidity, naivety, cruelty, silence

  Sweetness, shivers, eyes that finally see

  Or do they, can they, will they ever?

  Pitter-patter of heartbeats

  Forbidden thoughts

  Forbidden dreams

  Forbidden feelings

  Empty Nester

  Where once a space for baby lives

  With crayons, play dough, wooden blocks

  Toddler squabbles, giggles, baby talk

  Short years later the metamorphosis occurred

  A child’s desk, bookcase, MAC, or clone

  Now this spot is all alone

  Teenage life invaded with its own dreams

  Mixed with their tears and frustrations

  Now it’s time for future creations

  Floating

  I float fearlessly on a thick cloud

  Forgetting former tempests

  Determined to find my own universe

  By charting my own course

  But bravado quickly evaporates

  As long dead issues are reborn

  In my search for new answers

  I dig endlessly into the unknown

  I hack away at poisons in my mind

  Push forward to reach the golden heart

  At last I understand; all pain is fleeting

  Beauty is life and life is beauty

  Into Middle Age

  Brown-gray tones

  Atop hazel eyes

  Overlooking small shoulders

  Big boobs

  Slim arms, legs, feet

  Carry me along

  Into middle age

  Squeezing my brain daily

  For orange creativity

  For steadiness of hand

  For confidence in me

  Unknown Journey

  Bubbles blown into the air

  Travel afar

  If they dare

  Floating about with ease

  On a warm July breeze

  Childhood feelings in my adult bones

  Bubbles floating into the unknown

  In the Fifties Zone

  A time in my life with challenges galore

  When I think I can’t take on any more

  The nest becomes empty, its rooms bared

  Of the latest gossip, tears, giggles shared

  What to do with this gift, a visible embrace?

  Spread my clothes into sweet free space?

  Create my long awaited desert island bliss?

  I am now blessed with a spatial kiss

  Refurbish with my hopes and desires

  Savor the thrill of what transpires

  Create what I wish, retreat with pleasure

  Here my soul feels joy beyond measure

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-one means

  Menopause, grown up offspring

  Trying new things

  Knowing how to love

  Believing in Spirit

  Cheering up others

  Walking in the country

  Feeling grateful

  Family, birthdays

  Good friends, good food

  Boisterous laughter

  Soothing sun

  Fifty-one means

  Taking nothing for granted

  Celebrating Life!

  Blocked

  I stare at the blank screen

  Hoping for the idea

  The verbal sizzle

  That will transport me

  On my literary voyage

  Where I show others

  My view of the human condition

  And find myself in the process

  The Women of the 21st Century

  We are the women of the age of technology

  Our advancement into a man’s world undeniable

  Our intelligence and ambition without parallel

  Our determination to succeed overwhelming

  Our confidence growing with each achievement

  Into a world of fast food, lean cuisine, vanity sizing

  We march aerobically, lift weights, run marathons

  Espouse the virtues of slender slinky sexy bodies

  Size two the answer to our ever-present yearning

  To be desirable, beloved, as we tiptoe into middle age

  But at this point the waters become muddy

  We’re fraught with anxiety, divorce

  Wrinkles, crow’s feet, weight gain

  Relationships evolve, renew, or dissolve as lives play out

  Ideas once espoused are now seen as naïve, fallacious

  The perfect life must exist, but exactly where is a mystery

  We, the women of equal rights, have voted in two careers

  Instead of the one that used to consume all our time

  Proud, accomplished, driven to be all and do all

  We stagger into the future with heart attacks and strokes

  Our companions, dynamic, liberated, overwrought women

  Aren’t we wonderful?

  I Am At War

  I am at war

  Against self doubt

  Against fear

  Against jealousy

  Against injustice

  Against hypocrisy

  Against cruelty

  Against hatred

  Against e
vil

  Against prejudice

  I am at war

  I Am At Peace

  I am at peace

  With who I am

  With how I feel

  With my body

  With my family

  With my friends

  With strangers

  With nature

  With the seasons

  With the stars

  I am at peace

  Take Me as I Am

  Who am I? One might need to ask

  A secret soul under a public mask

  They only know what eyes can see

  But I hope that’s never all of me

  Beneath there’s much more to explore

  So I’ll unlock each separate door

  What does the world want to know?

  My dress size, my age, where I go

  To shop for clothes, my weekend recreation

  My meal plans and my latest vacation?

  A tall slim woman responds to such queries

  As best she can, but very soon wearies

  No one takes the time to truly understand

  Her thoughts, her dreams, her passionate stand

  They simply accept what they wish to believe

  Even though the physical can much deceive

  I keep my sweet secrets inside my heart

  Until one unique mind sets itself apart

  Can she accept what’s under the mask?

  Her simple reply: “Did I even need to ask?”

  The New Face of Sixty-Five

  The lady with the curls quietly speaks

  Her opinions daily we all seek

  She’s often busier than a beehive

  She’s the new face of sixty-five

  She’s been one of us for many a year

  With her we’ve laughed and shed a tear

  She’s devoted, kind, and her talent thrives

  She’s the new face of sixty-five

  At home she’s not about to retire

  Helping children and grandchildren

  Her sweetness shines, she’s vibrantly alive

  She’s the new face of sixty-five

  But that’s the rub, you can easily see

  For she doesn’t even look fifty-three!

  To be like her, we must all strive

  For she’s the new face of sixty-five!

  Old

  What do you see when you look at me?

  Wrinkles, jowls, blotchy skin?

  Thin hair, glasses, false teeth in?

  Look again—with kindness in your heart

  What you now see is a sculpted work of art

  Its canvas wisdom, empathy, grace

  The result of time’s work on a human face

  Now it’s my turn to look at you

  Freshness of youth, smooth white skin

  Bright sparkling eyes, contact lenses in

  Now I see what you cannot truly hide

  You have not yet learned humility

  An indifferent heart, superficial concerns

  Selfishness abounds, jealousy burns

  I ask, “Who would YOU rather be?”

  REFLECTIONS

  ON

  ANIMALS

  The Elephant Danced

  An elephant loved to dance his own way

  And decided to learn more by taking ballet

  When he arrived at the ballet school

  The teacher said that his body was not cool

  “You’re too large and ungainly to do well in ballet

  Look, the giraffe is lean; you’re not built that way”

  But the elephant knew that he wanted to dance

  So he begged the teacher to give him a chance

  “Well, all right, you can stay in my group

  But watch what we do; stand tall, don’t stoop!”

  The elephant was so eager to learn this skill

  That he stretched on from his toes, such will, such will!

  The teacher, surprised, asked how did he know

  How to move his great body with such graceful flow?

  The elephant replied that it was all deep inside

  That he wanted to dance, and felt himself glide

  “You’ll be my star pupil; you’re one of a kind”

  And the elephant smiled, for she had been blind

  First Robins

  At dusk the cool April air

  Suddenly came alive

  With a spirited symphony of robins

  Chirping travelers returning

  To nest in northern climes

  We listened and marveled

  At the rhythms of their instinct

  At their devotion to their journey

  At the melodies of their conversation

  At our childish joy in their presence

  Butterfly

  Dancing with delicate moves

  On wings of warm autumn wind

  The butterfly flutters weightlessly

  Its patterns designing the air

  But the dancer herself

  Is Nature’s best composition

  In orange with black trim

  Melding beauty with grace

  Her destination is instinctive

  Along the genetic journey

  Movement and form entwine

  The result……..perfection

  A Squirrel

  On a windy cold November afternoon

  With the patio doors reflecting the sun

  I suddenly noticed an overstuffed squirrel

  Deep inside my summer plant pot

  He stopped, knowing other eyes were watching

  I, too, became still; two different species

  Feeling each other’s presence

  Who would win, he or I?

  A minute dragged on, as each waited

  In anticipation of a bang on the glass

  No response, then “GO AWAY!”

  But nothing happened; we stood our ground

  Suddenly a head turned and I saw those eyes

  Grey blue, not chocolate brown as I had imagined.

  A long fluffy tail following his torso

  As he jumped out of my summer plant pot

  Before he finally faded from view

  He glared at me antagonistically

  I crouched in the light, mesmerized

  We had shared one brief moment in time

  The Mouse

  It was midnight at the cottage

  I felt his presence there

  Waiting to make his brazen appearance

  With villainous joy, he left his mark everywhere

  On my favorite sofa and chair

  In the sink, on the counter

  Just about everywhere

  What chutzpah!

  How dare he invade my private space!

  Live here rent-free

  In the lap of cottage luxury!

  How dare he think my food is his

  And sample anything—even my Cheez Whiz!

  I know why he prefers my rural home

  To the vast outdoors, his terrain to comb

  But beware, little one

  Numbered are your gourmet snacks

  With peanut butter and a custom trap

  I’ll lie in wait to hear the sound SNAP!

  The Cottage Raccoon

  To our dear little cottage raccoon

  Your nocturnal visits always spell doom!

  The residue you casually deposit there

  We must clean and scrape, but you don’t care!

  We know you love our barbecued meats

  That we carefully protect from your paws and feet

  We want you to live happily outside

  So please find another place to reside!

  Praying on my Mind

  She was only a pet, some might say

  Those for whom a strand of hair on a sofa

  Might spoil their perfect home and orderly day

  She greeted all w
ith a wagging tail

  And jumped on each lap, licked innocently

  Announced with a bark the arrival of the mail

  Sometimes a fresh stain was found on a mat

  And the swishing tail overturned many a cup

  All she wanted was a gentle loving pat

  The puppy stage passed and now she knew

  Friends and family and places she could go

  Even tricks to perform when we wanted her to

  At first only a pet, no depth or humanity

  Until one day we noticed with much surprise

  That she could truly feel and see

  She understood sadness with a caring presence

  She knew when problems weighted our souls

  She felt our troubles and knew their essence

  “Only a pet!” you might exclaim in disbelief

  Yet so intuitive in every unique situation

  Patting her gave us a sense of relief

  So it was that we took her for granted

  She would live forever, we tried to believe

  Until one day we listened when she panted

  “How could this happen?” we wanted to know

  As she lay at the vet’s with tubes everywhere

  She was our puppy, our kin; must she now go?

  Only an animal? How you presume to know!

  How can a four-pawed creature cause such a stir

  Live fifteen years with a faithful pet

  I guarantee you’ll be sad and your eyes will blur

  The Awakening

  Stretched out on an old soft terry towel

  The perfect portrait of canine relaxation

  Taffy lies in a state of complete trust

  In her surroundings, in her being, in me

  I stare, transfixed, at this wonder of nature

  From which I can learn by quiet observation

  Her even breathing, contented constitution

  Eyes often open, silently observing the sameness of her

  environment

  Suddenly an unexpected bang destroys our stillness

  Taffy surges into active pursuit of its source

  With an aggressive bark, a seldom used growl

  Four insistent paws alert me to potential imminent danger

  Our moment, now shattered by unforeseen events

  Reveals Taffy’s protective instinct

  Her loyalty, courage, quick wit, intelligence

  All emanate from my ten-pound poodle companion

  The Power of the Butterfly

  Oh, to be free like the weightless butterfly!

  Oh, to wend one’s way from southern to northern climes

  And back again as seasons change

  Migration of magnificence and strength

  Singular beauty in the summer landscape

  What mystery surrounds this lengthy odyssey?

  Fish Tails

  A strong silver fish swam in the aquarium with pride

  All knew the agility in his wide finny stride

  One day he noticed a female glowing nearby