I had a dream – again. (Repost: A Dream and a Wish)

It happened again last night, it must be this time of year,
that prompts a rummage through my unconscious,
and in amongst the rubble, finding a flicker of a thought,
pounces, and drags it forth,
to present, like a cats favour lying at my door,

sadly unwelcome but understood.

© ceenoa

The original post below, which prompted the one above, is from 24 December 2014, and can be found here.

I had a dream of you last night,
I heard your voice, I saw your face,
and it woke again the yearning,
from it’s quietly slumbering place.

That desperate sense of needing,
which years have mercifully worn away,
the savage grief dispersed,
through life’s anaesthetising day.

And even though they carry sorrow,
I long to dream of you again,
to feel that fierce connection,
as you quietly say my name.

© ceenoa

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“On This Day” Repost – Christmas in Tasmania

It’s that time of year – the week before Christmas.  Are you feeling it yet?  Facebook reminded me how I felt back in 2014, when I wrote this post.

Raspberries and Strawberries,
picked fresh from the bush,
the smell of fresh cut hay,
on a summers evening hush.

A thunderstorm with lightning,
flashing in the dark,
the mouth-watering aroma,
wafting from bbq’s in the park.

All of this says Christmas,
in the place that I call home,
my island state of Oz land,
what means Christmas where you’re from?

© ceenoa

Oh, Damn it all

evening-grassApologies to “Danny Boy” but the tune caught in my thoughts, and so the rhythm of the rhyme mimics the song , of a sort.

Oh, damn it all,
the grass, the grass is calling,
from fence to fence,
and down the driveway too,
it’s growing fast,
my garden’s disappearing,
into a jungle green,
of lush, and knee-high grass.

Oh, damn it all,
the grass, the grass is calling,
and I must go,
and get the mower out,
to cut the grass,
when I’d rather I was doing,
anything else, but sitting here,
and thinking grassy thoughts.

And I’ll be back,
next week to do the same thing,
for it is Spring,
and this is what it does,
it torments me,
this verdant, grassy greeness,
so I will go,
and slay it to the ground.

Oh, damn it all,
the grass, the grass is calling,
and I must mow,
and cut it to the ground,
the rain and sun,
will work all week to heal it,
and it will grow again,
and so the vicious circle goes.

© ceenoa

 

P.S.  Now, admit it – did you try and sing it to the tune? 🙂

A Brainy Rhyme

I want to declutter my brain,
to get rid of the names,
of people I’ve met,
that I’d rather forget,
I want to declutter my brain.

I want to declutter my brain,
of memories that pain,
and let go of that mess,
and have more space, not less,
I want to declutter my brain.

I want to declutter my brain,
then fill it with goodness again,
the hugs of a child,
their laughter and smiles
I want to declutter my brain.

© Ceenoa

“On This Day” Repost – Baggage

Seems that 31 October 2014 was a good day for writing – 3 posts came up in my FB feed today.  Of the 3, I decided I liked this one best.  If you’re interested, the original post can be found here.

Baggage

People think of baggage,
as something that is bad,
to be discarded soon as,
the opportunity is had.

But baggage can be useful,
for storing things you need,
to grow and learn and change from,
old life lessons you should heed.

New baggage is the hardest,
it’s lines are sharp and cruel,
painful corners on the cases,
where you’ve been played a fool.

Old baggage can be comfortable
as it fits like second skin,
especially on the corners,
where it’s been broken in.

Recognise your baggage,
whichever style it be,
you paid for all it’s excess weight,
you know nothing comes for free.

Understand the reason that you packed it,
with all the tales it tells,
save what you deem as valuable,
and leave the rest on the carousel.

© ceenoa

Love Again – A Short Paragraph Story

I never expected to fall in love again.  Certainly not with a younger man, and especially not with a younger man who speaks a different language!   There are moments when I seriously question my judgement; like when I notice his disregard for bodily hygiene, and his undeveloped table manners.  Oh, but when he smiles and hugs me my heart blossoms and overflows with happiness and I find I can forgive him anything – after all a baby grandson is a precious miracle.

14 years

dad in hammock

When Autumn blows,
when Winter snows,
when Summer slows,
when Spring plants grow,
I remember you.

You were my seasons,
and I was content,
to let you be my reason,
for taking the next breath.

Years have turned,
some dreams have burned,
and I have learned,
some memories do not return.

Each tiny part that disappears,
diminishes throughout the years,
the picture that I hold so dear,
and fills me with a desperate fear.

Will one day come,
under this sun,
when all that was our total sum,
dwindles down to none?

© ceenoa

A Poem for a Friend of my Friend

Somewhere,
in what others would call her fall from grace,
she found her freedom.

That choice was hers,
what others decide to remember,
is theirs.

The Universe calls us home,
and each of us will fall, from here to there,
and become more.

Look to the light,
believe in love,
remember in kindness.

Somewhere,
in what others should call her rise to grace
she exists in peace.

© ceenoa

Drip – A Short Paragraph Story

There’s a leak, a trickle of drips. I try to calculate the time between each, wondering idly if there is rhythm to their falling. But it is erratic; sometimes a staccato of drips, then a plop of drops, or a slow slithery splat. Suddenly the curtain of approaching rain reaches my house, drumming on the iron roof it sounds like I imagine gravel in a blender does. Just as quickly the spring squall passes, and I focus again on the leak. My child has a cold, I find them a clean hanky.

Spring has Sprung

early Spring Daffodils (6)
Spring Daffodils

Oh, Spring has sprung,
the sun does shine,
but I’m stuck inside,
and doing time.

I’ve got “the bug”,
in throat and head,
and backache’s forced me
out of bed.

I long to sit out in the sun,
looking at it’s not enough,
but I know that if I move,
I’ll stir up this hacking cough.

This too shall pass,
and it will be,
that soon you’ll spend,
some time with me!

Oh, Spring has sprung,
she shines so bright,
clear blue day skies,
crisp, sparkled nights.