Category — Weekend Writers Retreat

Okay, it has occurred to me that I must come up with a plan for getting stuff written for our little weekend meme. I’m really bad about it and slightly lacking in inspiration at the moment. In hopes of feeling not quite as guilty this week about my non-productivity I’ve dusted off a really sappy poem from the early summer of 2000 and reworked it a tiny bit. It’s still terribly sappy, and quite possibly just terrible; but, it was pretty reflective of place and time. Thank goodness I’ve grown up and moved on since then.

The Radio Not You

Thoughts of you running through my mind
In love’s crazy maze it’s you I always find
How can you be so close at hand
Yet worlds away from me your love stands
Lying here crying for my broken heart
I wonder why I let this love start
Painfully sure what I want can’t be
Knowing you aren’t in love with me
My memories burn with your stolen kiss
I’ll never again be satisfied with this

Remembering back to a simpler time
When me loving you wasn’t a crime
Listening to the words of a forever song
The love in my heart seems to sing along
I stay here waiting on my bed
Radio on, words swimming in my head
Waiting for what my heart holds so dear
Wondering if you will ever be here
Dreaming of days with bright blue skies
Eyes flooded with tears for all the whys

For one more chance, another forbidden taste
The rest of my life I’m willing to waste
From that first wondering moment until today
Memories unwind in an instant replay
Every thought is of some how, some way
We might be together one wonderful day
The music keeps playing on and on
Each melody soothes and then is gone
As I sit waiting for what can never happen to be
I can plainly hear… and see

The radio not you is loving me…

June 2000 (edited March 2010)

If you are interested in sharing your own writing with others each weekend check out the new Weekend Writer’s Retreat.

Bookmark to:

gently touching, softest caress
like a whisper, or
a delicate spring breeze
passing across you, on
a warm sunlit day
my hands drift across the surface
of my love, more
than just a touch
emotion crossing tactile barriers
leaving nothing unshared

If you are interested in sharing your own writing with others each weekend check out the new Weekend Writer’s Retreat.

Bookmark to:

SNOWFLAKES!

Snowflakes
	flitting
		floating
			fleeting
		falling
freely
through the sky

			Snowflakes
		winding
	whirling
		winging
wildly
			around the clouds

Snowflakes
			drifting
	dropping
		delicately
to the ground

			SNOWFLAKES!

January ‘96

If you are interested in sharing your own writing with others each weekend check out the new Weekend Writer’s Retreat.

Bookmark to:

Okay I’m digging into the archives for this week as I somehow haven’t managed to create anything new this week. I promise to try and do better next week.

Leaving You

We only want
What we cannot have
So the saying goes
And life goes on
Love passes by
Leaves you standing
On the edge of the road
Passions flare and fade
Friendships die away
I know it’s true
I know they do
But I never thought
With what we are and
What we are not
And all the things
I think I want
That it would be me
Leaving you this way


May ‘94

If you are interested in sharing your own writing with others each weekend check out the new Weekend Writer’s Retreat.

Bookmark to:

So, Grandma and I have decided to start a meme for writers called Weekend Writer’s Retreat. You don’t have to be good, or published, or even know what you are doing, you just have to be willing to write and share it with us. We’re open to all formats — stories, novels (installments or chapters please), poems, whatever floats your boat. We don’t care if you do something different every week, although we may complain if you leave us hanging in the middle of a good story. If you’d like to see an example of what Grandma will be writing check out the first installment of her work Convicitions, posted just yesterday.

Bookmark to: