September 29th, 2007 by Linda Jenkinson
- There was no card for me this year
- That compared my eyes to the stars above.
- There was no card for me this year
- That professed undying love.
- And there was no card from me,
- That in turn proclaimed the same.
- For this year my marriage
- Is only my last name.
- It was I who left
- With eye bereft
- Of any falling tear.
- It was I who put the past behind
- In search of my new year.
- I went to him, not because of him.
- I only left for me.
- I sought myself,
- I sought my life,
- My own identity.
- I have been mother, child and wife,
- But have not been what I could be.
- For in the many roles I’ve played,
- I never have been me.
- Now I follow my heart
- And trust my soul
- And begin to sop the healing balm
- And begin to feel the inner peace
- Of raging spirit becalmed.
- Though tears still flow,
- The grief will pass
- My eyes will dry and start to see.
- My heart will mend.
- The pain will end.
- At last, I will know me.
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September 26th, 2007 by Linda Jenkinson
- When the full moon smiles down on me,
- Don’t tell me it’s just a bunch of craters on a lifeless clump of dust.
- Let me have the man in the moon.
- Don’t take away the magic.
- When fireflies zig and zag through the night
- Don’t tell me they are just phosphorescent insects.
- Let me have the stardust.
- Don’t take away the magic.
- When the rainbow stretches gloriously across the storm ravaged sky
- Don’t tell me its colors come from sunlight refracted through moisture
- Let me have the bluebird on the other side
- Don’t take away the magic.
- I know that it’s right to be practical
- But you know it isn’t always practical to be right.
- Let me have the whimsy.
- Don’t take away the magic.
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September 25th, 2007 by Linda Jenkinson
- The rose which bloomed just yesterday
- Conceals the seed of its decay.
- Whose grasping fingers creep and reach
- Until each petal has been breached.
- Sepal by sepal the bloom will fall,
- ‘Til nothing remains of the rose at all.
- Now, understanding, I can see
- That I am what was meant to be.
- Knowing this, I finally find
- The path that leaves the past behind.
- Even as the blossom wanes
- I set my eyes ahead again.
- Though I may bloom imperfectly
- I still may bloom resplendently.
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