Saturday

"Coming of Age" ... a poem exploring the dissolution of the apron strings and stepping into adulthood. Surely describing a battle of sorts.

Contingence upon her gnashing teeth
unveils itself with shame.
Floundering within a wombed estate,
I contemplate who's to blame.

A wreath is shed upon the waters,
myself engulfed within;
I pull my eyes to the depths beneath
where yet I have not been.

Searching forever, no instant found,
that in me courage lay;
to wretch my soul from its securing
to keep the foe at bay.

Through pain, relief is dearly bought,
shields me from the rain.
Disgorge my heart and in its place,
strength to endure the sane.

Ransom my soul for toll unworthy,
I give you forever, me.
Box, put me in and mark me not,
for keep I must be free.

Replenish me with tender love
as wisdom will acknowledge.
Unknown potential, but comes it slow,
a long untended hedge.

Discard the milk of platitude,
ferment my nurtured fruit;
from flowers have come a wine of age,
voice and song of the mute.

Relinquish me, metamorphosis,
deliquesced are my fears.
Momentous reveille has thundered,
Beelzibub, she hears!

Emergence! A new life created,
a seed of dominance;
a tree that flowers, fruits and seeds,
Beelzibub, advance!

Why do you come, satanic one?
Is't punishment we need?
Oh powerful love that you possess,
is hate that it should breed?

"Defend myself, Mother Love needs not,
existance is my fame;
protection warranting love that lasts,
for this, can me, you blame?

So demolish all your decadence,
revive yourself anew;
One's reformation now completed,
to thine ownself be true."

Poem by Carolyn Hietala
(copyright protected and cannot be reproduced without my written permission)

Sometimes our youth have an enormous amount of difficulty reaching maturity...... gracefully if you will. "Aging gracefully" is a term usually associated with growing old but I feel it should apply to all ages. The journey to death begins at birth so let us not waste precious time battling with imagined foes. Patience.

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Thursday

I AM NOT A POET! ......I just have thoughtful thoughts from time to time ... it happens.


So deep is a shallow pool

a man muds his feet and curses;

a grasshopper falls in ......

he perishes.

Poem by Carolyn Hietala

In memory of
all the ants we accidently (or never knew) we stepped on!

(copyrights held by Carolyn Hietala and cannot be used without my written permission)

Wednesday

Poetry in motion! Nature is ever changing as are our daily lives. Every new day is an opportunity for us to fulfill our dreams......and to live well.

I dropped a leaf
upon the brook
to watch it ripple by.

The path it took
I did not see
for I had closed my eyes.

As it began
to round the bend
my heart did skip a beat.

Though blind was I
the loss I felt
and for it I did weep.

A poem by Carolyn Hietala
(copyright held and retained by Carolyn Hietala and cannot be used without my written permission)

Tuesday

"Graham Thomas" English Rose ... a beautiful yellow rose blooming in Fall.


I took my mother to purchase rose bushes at a local greenhouse the summer before her passing. This one continues to be a lovely surprise each Fall; blooming for a second time just when most of the leaves have already fallen from the trees..... as if intended in memory of Mom.

Monday

"Love's Song" ... a poem for reflection ...

Within your waves of sweet caress a melody does lie.
It walks upon the souls of men, nudging them to sigh.
Soft vibrations surrounding all take sorrow for a ride.
Herbs of time can do no better, soothing an aching side.
Ebbing memories emerging,
Freud's secret love outcast,
recriminations subsiding,
forever should it last!
Piped into the world's loudspeaker evils and ills would fade.
Hearts and minds would fuse together, all stones should turn to jade.
Dustbowls becoming paradise,
swasticks become but dust,
and God descends upon the dirt to wipe away the rust.
Come, stay, those drifting reflections
that heal the inner soul.
Please pass among the multitudes to warm the burning cold.
Regrettably these things not done,
improvements cannot wait,
continue in your quest alone against all war and hate.
For in the heart of every man there lies a hidden gift,
go and with your lovely song, bring forth and love you'll lift.
Poem by Carolyn Hietala