I didn’t sign up for ageing

I’m not obliged to do it gracefully

Pair of ruby slippers might have helped…

I’ll have done well enough, I think

If, with the Good Lord’s patient help

I don’t flounder badly, sink🙂

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Clocks Winding Down

Sorry for my absence, I’ll catch up with your posts when I can ~ Rhen

Don’t get old, or poor

Nor alienate kinfolk

Bureaucracy’s cold

Compassionless as concrete

Toward clocks winding down alone

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Wisdom’s Glimmer

Eugi's Weekly Prompt – Glimmer – January 27, 2020

Frequently glimmers

Beam of Heaven’s rich wisdom

Hands reach to capture

Tuck in heart’s fraying pocket

Lest ageing sieve mem’ry leaks

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

“Then you will discern righteousness and justice and equity—every good path. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will delight your soul. Discretion will watch over you, and understanding will guard you”. Proverbs 2:9-11, Berean Study Bible

“Wisdom’s instruction is to fear the LORD, and humility comes before honor.” Proverbs 15:33, New Internat’l Version

Bible verses:

Nothing Will Be Magic Anymore

Prompted by a line* from Fredrik Backman’s book, My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

What day, which hour

Did un-magic reality arrive

Black-hooded visage and

At hand, Death’s scythe?

Did it whisper words ill-chilled

Declare edict in dark-masked roar?

Maybe mere sternly weighted nod…

Intuitive souls perceive, sigh

“Nothing will be magic anymore”.

Was it spring day, truth’s force struck

Childhood, stolen, slammed starlit door shut?

And the murder that slashed everything safe, sacred.

Perhaps it dawned post-honeymoon

Rages unrelieved dissolved vows soon.

Or, when fifty candles’ mocking mirror fired:

“All second chances stamped ‘Expired'”.

Flimsy notion, Imagination’s infinitude…

Fine substance flamed is elusive, fades

Like fallen rose petals leave but dust

To conjure half-drawn dream from hoarfrost-

Heart, scarred soul balanced on tottering legs

And held in palsied hands bent on scribbling

Scratchy-voiced poems’ acknowledgment

Of hard-edged fact:  what worthy remnant 

Time deigns deliver yet, ‘pink-cloud possibilities’

Wishes windswept…all allures pass swiftly.

Drink hope’s dregs, grateful thimblefuls blessed…

*‘Because nothing will be magic anymore’.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

New Year, Old Hearts

After celebratory sounds subside

Fireworks, neighborhood festivity

We sit silent together, side by side

Words unneeded, thoughts woven intricately

We’ve watched calendar pages, wish-filled, waft

Bearing hopeful plans, and prayers aloft

While seasons of love in youth’s flight almost blur

Mem’ries, matched moments, embers linger

Our gnarled hands reach, as if on cue, your eyes

Speak timeless language in forget-me-not blue

We’ve lived sea’s tidal melody, constancy…

Another year and decade new

Two old hearts bound strong, e’er true

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.