My father’s sawmill:
Lovingly built and nurtured
For more than fifty years.
He got into the business
Grudgingly, at first
From my mother’s dad.
Prostate cancer took Daddy from us
He’d lived a good life.
I miss him.
It’s sad that no one
Took over the mill.
No one to carry on his legacy.
So. We simply remember
With joy and with pride.
Daily Prompt: Apprentice
The bar scene: Strobe lights, dancing,
Saturday Night Fever.
Places to shake your groove thing.
To see — and be seen. Guys, take note!
Girlfriends all made up, on the prowl
Going out on the town.
Best duds (new duds), eyes made up a bit too much: Spider Eyes.
High heels, wobbly as all get out but dang girl – so sexy!
White Shoulders, Enjoli.
Avon Sweet Honesty. Musk.
Love’s Baby Soft ~
“What’s that you’re wearing? Bug spray?!”
Perhaps not as hot as I’d hoped for, I’m afraid. Ah, youth.
Daily Prompt: Perfume
Do it now.
Oh groovus me!
She no longer earned a salary
Or laid out the next day’s outfits
All so very color coordinated: Blouse, earrings, the shoes on her feet.
The office was no longer her thing.
But that did not mean
She no longer had worth.
There are other ways
Of making a contribution.
Figuring out just exactly what that entailed.
That was the real challenge.
Not knowing the answers just yet
Did not mean they weren’t there to be had.
The alarm ruled my days
And SAT/SUN were my carrots.
They were devoured, yet savored.
Required tasks done quickly
In order to yield maximum downtime.
Books to read, walks to enjoy, relaxation = joy.
Now, my own time spreads out before me
Like a vast ocean.
I’m sailing uncharted seas.
An entirely new paradigm.
Rather than peering forward, slogging through five for two places of rest,
Time = Islands = Respite
No longer applies.
I can do what I wish to now.
Later, there may be other, different carrots to propel me forward, through my days.
But for now, I no longer seek ‘land’ on the horizon to get my bearings.
The dimension of time now provides a new perspective.
And I continue to wrap my head around the possibilities.
Hampered by a gloomy view
Looking out our ‘sunroom’ window.
But our lights shine from within
Do they not?
What an odd name for fizzy pleasure.
Pink and blue makes purple
And white foamy bubbles.
Water not too hot
But quite hot enough.
A calming, clean scent
With a hint of slickness to oil my skin.
A place to lie still
Until the water cools just enough
To warrant another torrent of hot H2O.
On wings of hope: May there be beauty!
Some find their mark bringing both joy and relief.
While others, finding their mark still, cause anguish, dismay: Please. No….
The truth hurts. Seeing it squarely in front of you, yes.
But being made aware that these images of light match – with such painful certainty
That what was painted
Sometimes, it’s more than I can bear.
I know that I should.
But I don’t or rather, will NOT.
Cannot. Simply won’t.
I don’t think I even really want to…
But because it’s expected of me, I suppose I will.
Mightily so with a good stiff breeze
Or gradually over time
Thanks to gentle stirrings, peppered with patience.
New growths occur
Some perhaps at great distances.
Nature has her ways
And always provides – well, when she’s not feeling feisty.
In the world
Accounts for much of the way of things.
Fairness – not so much…