Nostalgia (haiku)

Sundays with Grandpa

Happy forest family

Reptiles lurk below.

 

Lumbering giants

friends who come to save the day

Moments remembered.

 

Black and white world then

life filled with easier times

captivated awe.

Went kayaking the other day and saw a gator a few feet away churning in the water, and now images of the old Tarzan “movie for a Sunday afternoon” days keep bubbling up in my mind. Nostalgia at its best.

Angels

And we wore white like the angels,

in our minds we remember visions of beauty

images forever embedded on holiday cards

and we closed our eyes at night

saying our simple prayers

for peace and good will

and with the hope come dawn

we too could be as beautiful

and filled with light as they.

Movies inspired through long winding lives,

as fires burned these memories come back to find

the faded smile of dreams of youth,

how we moved to goth and darkness

only to fight our way back out

into wooded hues and colors befitting

a child of nature.

She had the eyes filled with such peace,

and for years I became her,

hair and clothing to try to be in that peace

that emanated from somewhere within,

only to find as the flames died down

that it had always been there

I just couldn’t see

that all I strove for was always a part of me.

In peace I reside,

beside the still waters and evening tide,

when the moon hangs balanced

between sheets of silken white

I hear her small laugh across the universe

reaching my ears

and I am that child once more,

but an angel in waiting

no more.

My friend rekindled my thoughts on my favorite lady of my college years, and with the fires in Tennessee bringing thoughts of the movie Always to my mind, little nudges bring inspiration when least expected. I am blessed. I no longer wear continual white/cream clothing…red wine can sometimes take its toll, and food, and dog prints, etc…..beach driven hues worn now but it’s all good.

The trouble with yesterday

We watched the screen while we lived the tale

Cinderella stories of broken hearts unlike the tried and true

as we crept on eggshells through the days that made

the growing bones and curves blossoming

how we still felt incomplete.

We thought we had the answers

learned from source of glamorous mags

and photos of how it should be

that in the end conflicted with how it was.

We skipped in darkened corners,

hidden kisses that thrilled the soul

from tepid boys who practiced first

on arms and pillows

and blushing we looked away perhaps in fear

of the feelings rising

and the need to be a part of this whole.

Memories of makeup on shelves

as we peruse the lipstick and pink powder colors

trying to be better than we felt on the inside

and we lifted the cologne and inhaled the scent

of the beautiful boy who bumped us in fast paced hallways

yet lingered just a second too long

and the Polo heady in our heads as we sat dreaming

through social studies of prince charming

and being asked to the ball,

as the shrill bell rings reminding us to move along

we exit heavy doors and walk into the maelstrom

as against the grey cold lockers, he’s kissing her

like a known lover

and we feel the mascara that we shouldn’t have on

fall in black raindrops

as the wallflower wilts

under the memories of yesterday once more.

There were no party dresses for the shy

no words of true love for the needy soul,

just the hopeless feeling that life would always be

this dark and lonely place

and I wonder now where that girl has gone

as she stands makeup free yet beautiful within,

where has she gone, that shy tired girl

who dreamed for the movie as a child

and now lives the world of the belle of her ball today.

Do our minds twist and distort the reality,

do we grow stronger through the acts of the life play

and though the Polo brings a smile

it is in sweetness and a hint of laughter….

where are you now Oh Quarterback God?

Do you think of those days in fondness or despair…

but then again

that part of me no longer cares

for I am whole

wise

and more than enough

living this life of my making.