POETRY CORNER: Eat, Sleep, Repeat

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by Mary R. Freeman

Of course, I like to eat –
I have three meals square –
Then I usually take naps –
“Like a hibernating bear!”

In spite of afternoon siestas –
I sleep soundly at night –
Before I even realize it –
The morning sun shines bright!

“This too shall pass” ­
Fits “The Situation” – we think –
Let’s put it all behind us –
Before we can blink!

We’ll go back to “Normal Living” –
Putting obstacles to rest –
Things are bound to get better –
I wish you all the best!

POETRY CORNER: Fly Away

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by Marilu Suchar

Time just seems to slip away from us.
The day of our birth and every year thereafter
Just marks a measure of time

I look back…..
I see a little girl running barefoot
Down a dirt road
I watch her pick a dandelion
To bring to her mom
I count with her as she skips rope.

Now she’s running through a field
With her dog – the sun reflecting
off her long shiny, blond hair

Then I hear “Pomp and Circumstance”
She is graduating.

I look forward ….
She walks with a limp as she tends
Her many flowers
She goes slow as she mows the
Grass from her lawn

She stands, stretches her back as
She shovels – just a little more snow.
Or creeps carefully over an icy spot in the driveway

Carefully she makes her way to the mailbox with a
Knitted cap over her gray curls. Hoping
For just a note from someone.

This is today – she has reached that magic year,
Time has run out.

Psalms 90: 9-10
“For all our days are passed away in thy wrath;
we spend our years as a tale that is told .
The days of our years are threescore years and ten;
and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years,
yet is strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off,
and we fly away.”

Where did the time go? How does it end?
God gives us just so much …..
Happy days – Sad days – worry days – all gone.

POETRY CORNER: Sweet Dreams

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Sweet Dreams

by Marilou Suchar, Vassalboro

The gold, the red the shades of green, splash of fall colors, a brilliant scene.

It’s nippy, it’s cool – the breezes blow, It won’t be long ‘til winter’s snow.

The leaves come falling fluttering down, to spread out gingerly on the ground.

It’s not the time to moan and weep, it’s time to rest, to dream, to sleep.

The “Goddess Spring” will soon awake, and with her she will winter take.

“Spring” wakes up the leaves and flowers, and birds will sing for long, long hours.

Summer sun will dance and play, but in Maine it cannot stay.

Then, so soon again, to gold and red, the leaves will turn and go to bed.

POETRY CORNER: A Father’s Point of View

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by Gary Haskell

Freshly freed from her mother’s
womb,
her tininess fills the sterile room.
First gulped air, airs her plea;
“Look at Me, Daddy,
Look at Me!”

With inches bought
by selling years
The baby leaves, a young
lady appears.
Dress-up, dolls, parties of tea;
different forms of “Look at Me.”

Another man stands by her side.
A band plays, “Here Comes
the Bride.”
On Father’s face the tears
flow free.
Perhaps the final, “Look at Me.”

Freshly freed from her
mother’s womb,
her tininess fills the
viewing room.
Laying in total serenity:
“Look at Me, Grampy,
Look at Me!”

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