20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Cell Phone Rose

Cell Phone Rose SBI was walking out the front door and noticed the Mr. Lincoln rose was particularly beautiful. I used my cell phone to snap a pic. The water droplets didn’t come through as crisp as I would have liked…you can see the sheen of the droplets. This rose is a fragrant reminder of my mom’s love of roses. First generated in 1964, the rose was transplanted from my folk’s house after their deaths and the sale of their home.


I shall visit and lay fresh flowers down – Poetry of loss (Re-posted from ramblingsfromamum)

I kneel upon blades of grass that are crisp and cold upon my skin

I wrap my arms around me tight & quiver against the wind

I lift my head to the dark sky above & shut my eyes tightly

And draw in a breath which makes my body shiver slightly

……….

The rain starts to fall & hits upon my cheek

I wipe the drops of cold & wet away

My brow rubbed with back of hand

I bend my head to pray

……….

I know that you aren’t with me

But I see you in my dreams

I beseech that you are peaceful

But my life is not as it seems

……….

You think after so long,that I am happy?

How can you possibly understand

You are the one who enriched my life 

Why can’t I hear your laughter or gently take your hand

……….

I long to hear your voice once more

Or to share your laugh & smile

I want to share these tears that fall

To say me living is worthwhile

……….

I shall visit & lay fresh flowers down

And shall talk & tell you of my day

And wish that you could answer me

I must pretend I can, let me have my way

……….

So for now I lay fresh flowers down

And reverie of what would have been

And caress & tend your grave each day

Inhale deep, with eyes shut tight & dream

……….

But wait I can see your beautiful smile I hear you speak my name 

I feel the ring you place upon my finger, a simple band of gold

To have & to hold from this day forward our love was ours to claim

To wed & live together young & then to die together old

……….

But for now I lay fresh flowers down

Courtesy Google & marketplace.org


1 Comment

Soft petal of the fallen flower…

A soft petal of the fallen flower

still spreads its fragrance

soon it is going to dissolve in earth

die and get buried, as we say it

but don’t forget- a new life will spring up

here where the fallen flower lies

with its soft petal which is

spreading its last bit of fragrance.


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The Mind’s Eye Beholds……….

“In the eye of the beholder’ is never more true,

when sharing our images, of the perceived beautiful.

I behold yours and you behold mine.

How do we define beauty?

Softness, hardness, contours, edges or contrast

They combine to grab, please or make one mutter.

I know it when I see it.

Whether yours or mine,

it eases my mind, my heart, sometimes my soul.

Images, for me, convey what seems beautiful.

May I say for the gifted few,

the divinity, who seem able

to draw forth words with blissful ease,

I see your beauty too,

not with my eyes, but with my mind’s eyes,

my heart and sometimes my soul.


Now, What Else Can I write?

I am now afraid to tell myself the truth

The truth I’m avoiding

The truth that is there, present all the same

Why is it so difficult to let the truth seep within you

The truth can hurt, that is also true

The truth that is true

I’m now real afraid truly

Because I think I would have to face the truth.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Truth- the game of true and lie

It is played every where

Sometimes the truth that is true wins

And even the lie can claim its victory as well

I am not making much sense

That is indeed really really true

But what if the truth is not true

And the lie may have been true, if given a choice

And the truth that is now a lie subsides

This game is amazing

The truth that is true

And that lie that is also true

And the truth that is a lie

This chakra would play its part

The lie may claim its crown

But the truth can also steal it away

Because after all truth is quite true

And the lie can indeed be a real lie.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The true colors of the nature rise

Sweetens the wind blowing by

The true flower emerges from within a bud

And the wind bathes in the scent of the truth

The soil truly nurtures a plant

The wind really blows by

Sweetened with the taste of truth.


inner wish

The air is still , my heart  is fleeting

Suns rays shine , my face their beating

Summer smells , flowers blooming

The days actions I am grooming

Reeling in my future , it’s full of pain

The questions in my mind they still remain

Waiting for the day to solve it all

It’s here it seems is where I fall

I need to get back to the ways of life

Still scared I wont beat this strife

I just wish sometimes I might

Have you take my hand , say all’s alright

 


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Coloring

When she was small my granddaughter would ask
me: “Be my thinker. Tell me what to draw.”
“A flower,” I’d say, and, serious at her task,
with silent concentration, set of jaw,

she drew upon her paper big fat mums
or daisy faces. “Beautiful, sweetheart.”
“I made them yellow just for you.” My thumbs-
up made her laugh and giggle.” Oh, so smart,

my little one who knew that yellow claimed
first place upon my palate, yellow sun,
the light refreshing color I have named
my favorite. Drawing with her is such fun.

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