love

Time Passes: Petals Tell the Tale

lillian22 Comments

parched petals litter tabletop
tears cling to eyelashes
skeletal tree limbs crack
as blizzard careens from sky

sunrise announces joyful day
as cherry blossoms bloom
yes bedazzled by love
bouquet gifted, she smiles

seasons and emotions change
age wizens beauty
Your love,
her always

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today I’m hosting our Quadrille Monday and asking folks to write a poem of EXACTLY 44 words, sans title, and include the word “petals” (or a form of the word) in the body of the poem. A synonym will not suffice.

Image by Andreas Lischka from Pixabay

October 14, 2013

lillian5 Comments

Six minutes a widow.
The sun kept shining,
the clock kept ticking,
but your heart stopped.
Absolutely stopped.

I remember my screams,
ambulance sirens.
They rushed you away from me.
Ushered me into a private waiting room.
I waited for forever it seemed.

Then that humming, beeping room.
Monitor glowing with moving lines.
Lines becoming peaks and troughs and blips.
Shroud-like sheeted, eyes closed.
Your face obscured by ventilator and tubes.

My God, so many tubes.
Family somehow there, tethering you to earth.
Doctor talk. Jumbled words to me.
“. . . his brain . . .may not wake up…not the same..”
No. No. NO.

Forty-eight hours later
your eyes popped open, staring fear.
Nurse told you firmly, wiggle your toes.
Move your right hand, now your left.
Moments of sheer joy.

We came home end of that week,
you, the real you, cognitively you.
But we were changed forever.
We live life more slowly,
love more deeply,
thankful for every day.


Written for dVerse , the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Will be submitted for possible publication in their anniversary anthology.

Moving On Without

lillian2 Comments

Out of reach.
Shiny brunette hair ~
     with squinted eyes, grey is silver.
Unstoppable energy ~
     spurts are good, naps are nice.
Confidence on stiletto heels ~
     comfort is better.
Faded memories ~
     photo albums roll back time.

Loved ones miles away,
some forever gone.
Living with empty spaces.
Closets of clothes, clocks ticking,
rocking chair, couch, kitchen table.
All are there but emptiness fills us.
The question becomes
what is within our reach
and how do we gird ourselves
to move on, step by step,
as we are left behind.


Dedicated to dear friend, Mary Nilsen.

Grateful . . .

lillian22 Comments

You are my sunrise
as are friends, family,
birthdays, holiday celebrations,
graduation festivities
hot fragrant coffee
smiles from passersby
crescendos in concertos
hugs and kisses
toddlers stomping in puddles
charitable donations
springtime flowers
random acts of kindness.
Sunshine, a constant,
even behind the clouds.

Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. I’m tending the pub and asking folks to include the word “sunrise” in their poem of exactly 44 words, sans title.

In all the chaos across our world, the sun still rises every day, even when it resides behind the darkest of clouds. For me, that is representative of hope – the idea that love and goodness are always present – even in the stormiest of times. Sunrise photo taken in Provincetown, MA – at the very tip of Cape Cod.

Aphrodite’s Offspring Still at Work

lillian14 Comments

Eros lives among us.
Sweet crushes blush teenage acnied cheeks,
struck by arrows dipped in cotton candy.

Arrow tips plunged in passion fruit
aim at fertile hearts.
Friendships turn to lust.

Ancient arrows, patina dulled
potency still strong,
add zing to elders’ love affairs.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today De is hosting Quadrille Monday and asks us to use the word “zing” in a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title.

Image created on Bing Create. In Greek mythology Eros is the offspring of Aphrodite, and is the god of love, passion, and fertility.

From my perspective . . .

lillian37 Comments

. . . ‘tis a holiday
when spring rains refresh the fields
when a babe is born into a family of love
when a home is infused with the aroma
of freshly baked bread
when a child chalks a sidewalk hopscotch
when peach nectar dribbles down your chin
when calloused hands are clasped in repose
while the body sits relaxed, belly full, mind at ease.
There is a positive sense to the word,
most especially when you believe
one moment in time can be a holiday
if we make it so.


Written for Open Link Night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. I’m hosting the pub today. Folks are free to post any one poem of their choosing, OR write to the optional prompt: create a poem that includes the word “holiday” in the body of the poem. Image from Pixabay.com

NOTE: dVerse will be LIVE on Saturday, December 14, from 10 to 11 AM New York time. Click here to find the embedded link that will take you to the LIVE session (audio and video). You’re invited to read a poem of your choosing or just sit in and listen. The more the merrier!

Still I Love

lillian31 Comments

Crepe paper streamers,
I used to string them
for birthday celebrations.
Now I have crepey skin.

Shiney brunette hair
blow-dried just so.
Now grey, held back with barrettes,
away from eyes with sagging lids.

I used to chase little ones
in games of duck-duck-goose,
hike glaciers
and dance till dawn.

Morphed by scores of years,
still I smile.
Time slows my pace,
cherished memories accrue.

I occasionally put on hiking boots,
they just don’t trek as far.
And I do dance,
but not nearly as late.

Most importantly, still I love.
More deeply,
more completely
with every passing day.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Dora asks us to write a “despite and still” poem. Photo taken two weeks ago on the heliport of Celebrity’s Constellation during our 24 night back-to-back cruises, including a TransAtlantic from Barcelona to Tampa, Florida. Thankful for every day.

The Bonus Years

lillian37 Comments

Celebrating
eleven bonus years.

This day, back then,
frightening.
Light and love of my life,
your heart stopped
for six interminable minutes.
Doctors, family, friends,
all tethered you to this earth.
I celebrate
every day we have together.

Thankful
to share life with you.

Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today we’re to write a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title, that includes the word “light”.

Eleven years ago this morning, George suffered a six-minute cardiac arrest. Because of what I call angels along the way, he is still with us, cognitively 100% okay, healthy and as fun-loving, kind, and wonderful as ever. I am forever grateful – thankful for every day.

Photo: George and I in Provincetown last month.

Love Dances On

lillian29 Comments

Victrola plays Glen Miller’s Moonlight Serenade.
She sits dozing, blue-veined hands quiet,
elbows on doily-covered armrests.
Asleep, she was dancing with him.
Awakening to reality
she stares at his empty chair.
Only a figment in her dreams now,
she still misses him every day.

A quadrille written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. I’m hosting today, asking folks to include the word “figment” (or a form of the word) in their poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Image created in Bing Create.