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Bucket full of life
overflowing past the brim
A home, family and wife
days filled with friends

Farms and gardens galore
children grown into nice men
Grandkids around and even more
a love hidden not of his kin

His love knows no bounds
an energy unsurpassed
Everyone clamors around
such a stark contrast

To the one left alone
that one forbidden love
Tending her gardens of gold
in dirt stained gloves

On the outside looking in
not a part of the whole
Face turned to the wind
it’s music her scrolls

His world swirling in mirth
deep loves held in his grip
Hers tending the Earth
tethered to his fellowship

Antique voice box
hanging on the yellowed wall
Waiting patiently
for another call

No ring from that telephone anymore
an early relic left long ago
Should it ring loud and true
no one to answer a friendly hello

Craftsmanship gleams from that box
skillful detail in each cranny and nook
Time rolls on leaving behind an old
telephone hanging from its old hook

Frogs are singing
deep bass croaking calling
calling where’s my mate

Lady frogs harmonize
higher alto answering
I am here I am here

Seagulls squeal above
soprano voices hailing
warning all who walk below

Crows squawk in tenor timbre’s
fighting words to all their foes
battling for bits of shiny treasure

Spiders weave a web of sorrow
for their unsuspecting prey
food or love it waits in silent ambush

Swaying in her lonely garden swing
moving slightly to and fro
watching natures magnificent show

In response to prompt from
RDP SATURDAY: CHANGE
Hosted by Punam at
RagTag Community

Summer ends
warm days
soft breezes
seasons change

Life moves on
leaves turn color
red yellow and orange
ride the wind to the ground

The chill of Fall
secedes to the cold
gusts of Winter
snowflakes dance upon the air

Change inevitable
settles in comfortably
against the wishes of many
change never changes at all

Red pencil strikes words from page.

Alone in the dark
of night
Fear has wrapped
itself around me
through me

Heart thuds against
my chest
Slower and slower
squeezing precious
air from my lungs

Terror waits patiently
for its turn
to sink sharp vicious
talons into my stomach
rending tearing devouring

Breath halts
lungs rebel starved
body reacts sits upright
Eyes open to see nothingness
alone in the dark again

Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – End
Hosted by Gerry C. & Susan W.

The end I fear
is near not far
Don’t shed a tear
or waste a frown

My days were short
my nights were long
each hour with you
a special song

Happiness and joy prevailed
while others lost
I was not derailed
my course remained true to you

Although the road
comes to an end
Tricky me
I’ve found a bend!

Night envelope me
into the darkness of
your inky blackness

Force away the pain
endured during
the days of wakefulness

Cruel you are
to deprive me of dreams
sweet and free of agony

The hour is only
barely past midnight
and still I walk the halls

Sleep beckons and I fall
into its mesmerizing state
while standing on two feet

When to the bed I take
I stay awake until dawn washes through my window and I sleep

Path paved by weathered stones
green moss and spindly weeds
compete for the favored spots
where rainwater sleuths off the edges

Shucked sunflower seed shells
by the hundreds cover the once
pretty garden stepping-stones
bearing pairs of pink flamingo’s

An empty bird feeder dangles
listlessly above the decorated
rocks turned stepping-stones
empty and home to bug eating spiders

The feeder a stark testament as former feeder of all birds blue or red or black but the woodpecker’s loved the dark sunflower seeds most

Time passes by as long and slow
as a river of sweet molasses
and faster than a tsunami great
while truly not passing at all

I hear his voice
speaking to me
inconsequential
mundane meanderings
about the news and the day

Glancing up from my reading
I pause to answer him
his chair sits empty
but remains warm
indented

A shadow passes by
I look up quickly
glancing at the outline
a memory only
because no one is there