No Second Chance

Can I borrow metaphors
from imaginary toads?
To explain my no second chance
for another life
Another chance to wax eloquent
Another chance to make up
for lost causes
Is there,
unbeknownst to me,
a reprieve?
My DNA lingering
within my children,
my grandchildren,
my great-grandchildren
yet unborn
How long be that?


Ellecee





In response to today's promnpt from imaginary garden with real toads

 ''second," in any of its forms, is your prompt for today.  To name a few: second helpings, second chances, coming in second, seconding a motion, second sight, a second set, second in line, second child, second growth, second to none, only a second, seconds to go.....  (Of which there are approximately 2,505,600 left in this month.) 

Aging

Oh, the play and all the staging

set for aging, aging, aging

Director to the actors paging

come forth on stage and do your part

enable life to create art

Oh, the play and all the staging

set for aging, aging, aging

thin of hair and memory fading

frail of limb, body degrading

Oh, the play and all the staging

set for aging, aging, aging

Thoughts of life with some dejection

not ready soon for more reflection

Oh, the play and all the staging

set for aging, aging, aging

Not to be spared the day of reckoning

I fear the reapers call comes

beckoning, beckoning,

Oh, life's play and all its staging

set for aging

aging

aging

Ellecee

In response to

On Popular Demand – Glimpse into the world of Edgar Allan Poe – [11]

Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's poem The Bells

Photo Credit

Ah

Ah

is it youth who cannot

 dance so well with pain?

Where age says

"oh, hello to you again"

Ah

is it youth who feel

such passion and regret ?

Where age says

"oh, this affair I can forget"

Ah

is it youth who die

from wounds

with such finesse?

Where age says

"there is yet another chance

 for happiness" 

Ah

it is youth who have 

so many miles to go

While age says

"I anticipate the final blow"

Ah

it is youth who want each lesson

 to be clear

While age says

"you live again all that I 

 hold dear"

Ah

that youth would listen

closely 

as age may say

"You will surely live to

love

another day"

"ellecee"

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Kerry Says

"I love the whole concept of describing

a lifetime by looking back over significant

years and events and the people who

influenced me and by looking forward to

anticipate what is still to come."

Day 12

Spring

It will come

Spring

The scent of rain on dry leaves

plants will push up sprouts

through the softened soil

searching for the sun

There will be flowers blooming

Birdsong

Hummingbirds returning

There will be cool mornings

warmth in the afternoon

peepers singing in the evening

It WILL come

Spring

"ellecee"

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

April Poetry Month - Day 4 - "Nature Poetry"

Margaret - Beautiful photos and video

Settled In

The winter has settled in

snow crunches underfoot

ice shatters to shards

mist rises from the lake

as if something warm

lie beneath

The longest night has passed

but still it feels

unending

Ellecee

Reading

She is reading:

Rumi - "for I am the candle; burning only makes me brighter"

Neruda - "Some day, some where, unfailingly, you'll find yourself"

Gibran - "your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding"

Angelo - "Now if you listen closely, I'll tell you what I know"

Atwood - "Aren't there enough words, flowing in your veins, to keep you going?"

These distractions for the times when

she has lost her muse,

knowing they will lead her 

back to her

own voice

Ellecee

Seasonal Love

Do we come back around

like the seasons?

The rich juices of  Spring

filling our veins with

 old longings?

This time for planting seeds

available only to

ancient souls such as

ourselves.

Summer bringing the

hope of a

rich harvest

Days mellow with

expectation, 

waiting

for fruition.

Fall bringing

what?

Not the promised

result?

The fruit is not

sweet enough,

the size is smaller

than desirable,

not the best colour,

not the expected

yield?

What kind of garden

have we left, how

much loss is there?

Winter coming in

with its deep chill,

cold winds blow,

the sun is low on

the horizon

No succor available

for parched egos,

Go away, go away

There is silence

The cold, cold silence

of winter creating a

pall over our

landscape.

Is it death or

hibernation?

Is it over?

 Or

merely, as always,

and to be expected,

the changing of

seasons.

Ellecee

STILL

Not bound

tethered

restricted

in any way

still,

immobile

stuck

mute
still

a mystery,
now unfolding
understood while

 waiting

still

Ellecee