20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Wishes

I wish that I could be a prowling cat
or, ghostlike in the wall, hear pieces, bits
of whispered conversation. Oh. He quits?
How can this be? I feel my heart fall flat.

I wish my dad had not deserted us.
I wonder what we might have all become
if he’d not gone away and left us numb.
I felt a big subtraction, never plus.

I wish my father had approved of me,
shown his encouragement or his support.
Instead, he and my mom wound up in court,
their marriage then dissolved. He, fancy-free,

married again, then two times more. I saw
him try for happiness. O, how I begged
for his attention, but I had him pegged
right, and I sadly saw the fatal flaw

that kept him locked from free and easy back
and forth relationships. And how I wish
than cancer hadn’t spilled its nasty dish
into his lap to emphasize the lack

he must have felt. I stopped my wishing then,
forgave him, overlooked much, and calmed down.
He, after all, had shared his writing crown.
He’d lived Days One through Nine. Soon coming? Ten.

 


2 Comments

If I Had Not Had Epilepsy

Our lives would look so different,
but I can’t say how
because all the years of our marriage
a third entity has been present.
We call it “E.”
Affecting what we do and how we travel,
what I can consume, the very hours I must sleep,
we become contortionists with the best-laid plans,
rubber-banding them into relaxation
to avoid a hit.
Hyper-vigilant, en garde our constant cry, we stay alert to warning signs
of fluttering eyes, mumbled words, stilted gait.
When they appear my knight rides in and does battle…
again.


THE BLANKET

She remembered when love was like a blanket. In the beginning, they were both wrapped tightly and snuggled in it. Their faces brushed so closely together that she could feel his breath upon her cheek.

Over time, things began to slowly change. She realized that although they were covered with the blanket’s warmth, now their faces were turned away from each other. It was more comfortable that way. But even when they were not facing each other, their bodies still touched. They often rubbed each other’s toes with their feet.

With the passage of more time, they began to pull at the blanket in order to find comfort.     

While sleeping, they would both take turns grabbing at it. He would become upset if she pushed it off and lay on top of it. She would wake up and find herself cold without a blanket nearby; then she would pull it back.

Eventually, they both adjusted. But she realized that neither of them found the blanket to be comfortable anymore.       

When it was time to leave, it felt to her as if all of the years of adjustment had caused the blanket to simply become a fabric. It required unraveling in order for her to leave. 

She began to pull apart all of the threads. She cried for each and every one. He did not show her that he was crying, too.    

When she pulled apart the last thread, she turned to leave. As she went through the door, she wrapped herself tightly with an imaginary blanket so the memory would sustain her.

© 2012 by Judy Unger, http://www.myjourneysinsight.com and 20 Lines A Day. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Happy Birthday

We’re going to an open house this afternoon for our friend Isabel, who is turning 80. I hope this little poem, tucked into her card, will make her smile.

And here you come, octogenarian,
swift-sliding into first with ease and grace,
arriving “Safe,” the umpire calls, on base.
We’re honored to reflect your friendship sun.

Through marriage, children, music, writing, art
you let the others in, allow a peek
at all the depths of you and what you seek.
As friends we’re thrilled that we’ve become a part

of your especial universe. What fun
to write with you. Remember when we pressed
those flowers onto a poem page? They blessed
my father in his grief. You have outdone

yourself in many ways, expressed the blaze
of sunrise, tenderness of hands, a smile
or laugh that turns a sadness or a trial
into an individual turn of phrase.


2 Comments

They Eloped and Invited ME

nutsfortreasure:

No poem needed
hard work for me to pick out of 170+ photos to put here though :)

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:

 

I saw an Ad online and answered it.  They wanted someone to capture ,in photos, their special day.

It would be my first elopement.  I will try to show you with photos how beautiful the day was,  even

though any minute we thought the skies would open up, above us.

Snowflake Inn Jackson,NH

Snowflake Inn
Jackson,NH

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Couple

They are Eloping

 

 

 

Gathering a Posey for his Bride to Be

Gathering a bouquet for her

 

 

Bouqet

She is LOVED

 

 

 

I Do

With this ring……….

 

 

 

RINGS

Rings are on just a few more words and they will be married

 

 

 

Wedding

Married Couple

 

 

Jackson NH Covered Bridge

Checking out a Covered Bridge

 

I wish them a lifetime of Happiness TOGETHER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

View original


THEY SAID I DO

I  had the day saved for a month

Neighbors who have been together for years

They had decided to Say “I Do” and will only do so ONCE

The words repeated were beautiful and yes they brought tears.

 

I had not met them before , even though they lived right up the street

A friend gave them my number to help them with photos of their special day

This couple is really sweet

Their cute little Beagle even joined them, in their photos today.

 

Thanks for having me be a part of your special day

Congratulations Larry and Tina


13 Comments

Married People Somewhere

The coffee pot is calling me

I hear it loud and true

It’s saying “Hey!  It’s 5:00…

I sure could use a brew!”

You’re sitting there, your beer in hand,

You say, “Huh?  What’d you say?”

I say, “That was my coffee pot.”

You say, “Huh?  What?  No way!”

You tell me “Sounded like the fridge,

A-needing a refill.”

Domestic, Import, you don’t care

They both would fit the bill.

I guess we have our differences

In what we think is true.

But that’s okay as long as

You love me and I love you.

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