Invisible Rainbow

I  am a fading rainbow, whose colors you can’t see.

Searching for my pot of gold, or at least who I’m supposed to be.

Isn’t it funny how a rainbow appears when a storm is on the wane?

Colors paint the sky in peace, displacing thunder’s pain.

 

Lost in my own sadness, missing the life that I once knew,

The base of the rainbow sits down low, its cornerstone is blue.

The color of darkness and gloom, it was once a warm, loving place.

Now, in depression and woe, blue is something I embrace.

 

Out of the darkest of shadows, green becomes a visible hue.

Its passion is envy, lost in reality, but wanting to be more, true.

Envy is a strong emotion that no one can tangibly see.

It’s that torment, that angst that question, “Who am I supposed to be?”

 

So confusion turns to anger, and ugliness rears its head.

The color of the thoughtless deeds and spiteful words is red.

Rage overtakes good judgment, rushing rivers over rock and silt.

Crushing hearts and spirits, along the way, bleeding red, denying guilt.

 

I am looking for a haven, a spot to find solace, to think.

A fairytale place, where nothing hurts, the color of which is pink.

The numbness gives way, in time, to embarrassment and shame.

A blushing rose whose petals are wilting, pink is my name.

 

At the top of the colorful rainbow, stands the softest yellow tier.

Reaching upwards toward the sky, overwhelmed with consummate fear.

That what lies beyond the rainbow, with its reds and greens and blues,

Will leave only the trace of yellow, in an old and vanishing bruise.

 

 

I am a fading rainbow, whose colors you can’t see.

Searching for my pot of gold, or at least who I’m supposed to be.

Isn’t it funny how a rainbow appears when a storm is on the wane?

Colors paint the sky in peace, displacing thunder’s pain.

Suddenly

Out of the blue, the lightning strikes, starting a forest fire or knocking someone off their feet.

In an instant, the car veers off the road and into a post, the engine exploding, the passengers crushed.

After months of remission and hope, the tumor overtakes the body.

Abruptly, the body defies the lifestyle, and a tiny embolism explodes.

 Suddenly, is God dead.

That’s What Hope Is

I listened to the songs that brought me down

I went for a swim… and I wanted to drown.

Looking for something to get me out of my gloom

Thinking that life is just a faded bloom.

 

My world was dark by my own device.

Pushing the envelope and paying the price.

Living this way and the years have flown,

Choosing a path that kept me alone.

 

I want to know

That everything will be okay

That’s what faith is.

I want to have faith

That everything will be all right

That’s what hope is.

 

There is a way to cut myself free.

I can turnabout.  I can discover me.

There is an easier and softer way.

I can start anew and fresh each day.

 

I can fill the hours and give myself joy.

A gift of bliss that I never employ.

Now I know its not out of my scope

All I need is faith; all I need is hope.

 

I want to know

That everything will be okay

That’s what faith is.

I want to have faith

That everything will be all right

That’s what hope is.

 

 

Honor Thyself

Honor the dark places. Admit they exist.
Don’t deny them, they are a part of you.
Keep them in perspective, don’t allow them to twist.
They make up your soul, every color, every hue.

When its dark, it doesn’t have to be all black.
There are colors in the shade.
The tones that make up the bright colors you lack,
Will emerge from the foundation you’ve laid.

The someone you are, whom you’ve failed to see,
Has been built through the process of time.
Your true colors will rise and you will ultimately be,
Complete… a whole spectrum, sublime

Cruisin’

Calm seas, smooth sailing.
An evenly cut wake across the water.
Never imagined what would come next.

Yellow sky in the distance.
Ominous white caps appear.
Unexpectedly, the hull begins to bob.

Heavy wind heralds a storm.
Eventually, waves crash over the bow.
Listing, tossing and turning, the keel unsteady.
People sliding along the deck, heaving over the rail.

Mayhem.
Ensuing turmoil and confusion.

Overboard, and into the drink.

You Tickle My Heart

From the moment you came into my life,

From the time I held you in my arms,

I’ve been raised to a different plain.

I’ve been lost to you love and your charms.

You see the world through a child’s eyes.

I’ve been watching you learn and grow.

You have a special way of questioning things.

What makes the sun shine?  What makes the wind blow?

But there is no question that right from the start,

You’ve made me so happy; you tickle my heart.

I can only give you my love, for now.

I can raise you and see to your needs.

I can teach you some of the lessons I’ve learned.

But, I can only plant the seeds.

What you give back is truly a gift.

With northing and time you unfold.

You remind me of what is important in life.

I hope your future is paved in gold.

And there is no question that right from the start,

You’ve made me so happy; you tickle my heart.

Ode to Milton and his Many Personalities

A preamble:  Five years ago, I tore up my foot playing racketball…  Saying thank you to my husband didn’t seem enough for all he had been doing for me, so… 

 Your illness kicked in when I suffered a tear.

You took on personas, from I don’t know where.

Caring for me with a hot and cold pail,

And tending to me like Florence Nightengale.

Hazel the maid worked for ‘ole “Mr. B.”

Her value to him was no mystery.

She cleaned and shopped, and mopped the floor,

But when YOU wear her apron, you do so much more.

 Josephine herself would have been quite proud,

As you rid the bathroom of a drip that was loud.

With gadgets and wrenches, Roto-rooter said,

“You’ll have to pay extra, if you’re going to “help” Fred.”

I’m Captain Kangaroo – and you “Green Jeans.”

I’m surprised that you haven’t planted lima beans…

Finding time to do gardening and pull up some weeds,

While seeing to Maddy and Sophie’s needs.

 You’re cooking is improving,

And very seldom do you botch…

And much more than Emeril,

You’ve kicked it up a notch!

 Twenty-six athletes, one night you did feed.

Hi-Carb repast is the thing that they need.

Matching school colors, and served with aplomb,

Even you can make Martha Stewart look dumb.

 Betty Crocker could take a few lessons from you.

Chocolate mousse in a new blender, because the old one blew.

Sean Haley would be drooling, for heaven’s sake,

If only I’d share with him your banana cake.

So rearrange my kitchen, do what ever you need.

As I am not healing with any great speed.

This injury seems like a gift from above….

Thank you, dear Beulah… My husband…. My love!

The Things that Make Me Happy

Sipping hot coffee at the break of day.

Finishing the crossword puzzle, come what may.

Conducting Mozart with a wooden spoon.

Strumming my guitar, an old Bee Gees tune.

Listening to music, be it jazz or big band.

Watching my daughter lend a helping hand.

Or watching her paint another masterpiece,

While taking fried eggplant out of the grease,

Or frosting the top of a chocolate cake,

While my son asks me, what else did I bake?

Watching him chase down another fly ball…

Or discussing the Matrix, Plato and all.

Eating my mom’s cheesecake, though already full.

Talking the stock market, bear or bull.

Sharing bad jokes and memories of life.

And most important of all, being his wife.

That’s My Girl

Just when I think my patience is spent,

And I have no more strength to abide,

Her demands and her mood swings never relent,

Then she shows me her softer side.

Not a lot different from other teens,

Her room is a mess, her music loud.

She’ll speak in a language—don’t know what she means,

Then she’ll do something to make me proud.

She talks about music, running and boys,

Waffling from elation to despair.

Make-up and warm-ups have replaced other toys,

But her life, she’s still willing to share.

She’s so busy, she’s always gone in a flash.

Seems our relationships’s always on the mend.

We misunderstand, we bicker, we clash,

The she tells me I’m her best friend.

My fondest hope is to keep it that way.

She is truly the light of my life.

I’ll hold on to her, as long as I may,

Until she becomes some lucky man’s wife.

Her father will tell her to “be who you are,”

“And everything will work out in the end.”

“Just be Maddy,” he says, “and you’ll go far.”

Maddy, my daughter, my friend.