Posts Tagged ‘First Pages’

Just sleep,

I’ll sit here,

I won’t make a sound while I watch you contentedly as the night rolls around.

I’ll glance past the dark, making sure you’re asleep, I want to keep you safe… even in your dreams.

Is that alright with you?

Go play,

I’ll be here,

I’ll watch you from this chair as you turn the corner and I can barely see the shine of your hair.

I’ll squint my eyes until you’re far from my sight, I want to keep you safe… even when you play.

Is that alright with you?

I’ll drop you off,

Eyes straight ahead.

Whispering, “be careful”, before you open the door, and when you walk away I’ll whisper it once more.

I can see you lighting up the world with your smile, I want to keep you safe… even if I’m not on your mind.

Is that alright with you?

I’ll cry when you leave,

I’m sure of that,

I’ll walk past your room and take a moment or two, closing my eyes to think of you.

I’ll smile and touch your door, I want to keep you safe… even when you’re away.

Is that alright with you?

I’ll smile.

I’ll laugh.

I’ll wipe my own tears, I’m overcome with all those motherly fears.

Stand under my umbrella, it’s big enough for us both, I want to keep you safe… every minute of the day.

Is that alright with you?

Letting go is so hard,

The pain takes a seat just so it can linger.

No worries, this umbrella will keep you from harm, me underneath it with my outstretched arms.

I’ll welcome you back, I always want to keep you safe… even when I can feel your embrace.

Is that alright with you?

I’ll smile,

I’ll cry,

I’ll remember,

I’ll live.

I’ll walk away when I need to…

I’ll hang around as long as I can…

I’ll let go and I’ll hold tight and we’ll dance that dance…

under my umbrella.

Is that alright with you?


This poem was sparked by the incredibly talented Pam Carlson , her doodle magic and her ever sparkling, kind, lovely self.

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this is for the savior of the broken,

the writer of the story,

the singer of the song.

this is for the conjurers of the calamity,

the poets and the poem,

the artist and the collage.

this is for the books,

the words,

the stories we weave,

the mothers,

the fathers,

the way they make us believe.

this is for the gamblers who lose,

but still play the game.

the dreamers who dream,

not afraid of the flame.

this is for the beaten,

the bruised,

the scared,

the nervous,

the hurt,

the shattered,

the stuck.

this is for the ones who get back up,

for everyone who dares to move,

for those who keep letting in the light,

for those who stand facing the storm.

this is for the honest,

the conscious,

the diggers,

the searchers,

the seekers.

this is for the quest we don’t walk away from,

the puzzle we want to put together,

the lesson we keep learning.

this is for the blurry eyed star gazers,

the unabashedly flawed teachers,

the unapologetic hand-holders.

this is for you,

and me.

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Hi kids…

I’ll be playing in someone else’s sand box this week!

Follow me, as today I take on rejection and Alexis Stewart — 10/30/11

Craving Rejection

Today, a poem — 11/01/11

Today, I am small…

Today, some fiction — 11/03/11

Wrap You In My Arms

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