Life Survives

Life Survives

Make no assumptions with your eyes

Concluding outcomes creates lies

Here fires raged burning wooden lives

Now springtime brings forth promises

Sprouting flowers from charcoaled trunks

Dancing and wearing tints anew

Life survives veiled in sacredness

By Maryanne Mesplé

August, 2 2016

~ Oh Eyes of Mine ~

~ Oh Eyes of Mine ~

My eyes defy me, much like bratty school bullies

Telling me I'm insane to believe I can see beyond

What my vision imagines!

Silly eyes of mine, such bratty orbs of ocular protein

Trying to be unlike one another,

Hinting that one's color 'tis more like a robin's egg

Than the other's!

Oh, but I know my eyes, and in the night they rest,

Their defiance sleeping until the morrow when

Once again, like a fresh morning dew all wet with promises,

My eyes will be one - until the  brattyness  begins

Then I shall take each one under fist and rub them hard

Demanding they stop and desist their petty quarreling.

~ Maryanne Mesplé

If I Could

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

A heated toilet seat

A walk in bath

A massage every night

For her tired aching feet

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

A kiss every hour just because

A hug each time I entered and left

Her room

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

Warm blankets all day long

Warm slippers for the nights

Warm pajamas to soothe her well used body

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

Long Loving looks into her eyes

And say

Thank you…

Thank you every time

My skin brushed her's

I would say thank you

Every time I drew a breath

I would say thank you

Every time a tear fell

Or a gush of laughter burst forth

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

More appreciation for

Every feather

Every ribbon

Every button

Every rubber band

Every paper clip

Every piece of saved paper “just in case”

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

Praise just for being my mom

Instead of being upset because she was not like me

And every moment of everyday

I would thank her for the all of me that is

Just like her

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would give to her, my mom

More Prayers upon my knees every night and

At each dawn

Thanking God for her, my mom

If I could turn back the hands of time

I would bring her back - my mom

Photo of Eleanor Ormsby Hughes Finley, my mom

Poem by Maryanne Mesplé April 17, 2016