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SUSAN JOHNSTON OWEN-JAZZ / SITE OWNER/MUSICIAN, WRITER,ARTIST, ELEMENTARY AND SPECIAL EDUCATION TEACHER (RETIRED)
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Standing on the portico, releasing a long sigh, the maiden fairest spies longingly, remembering their lust. Her love traveled the sea as her hopes remained high, for lying in his muscled arms, knowing sighs of passion, trust.
From this spot the sea’s glimmer lights returning ships her countenance will never fail waiting for her dream. A chill runs up her spine as his name crosses her lips. Spotting a strong figure, she hears his desired scream.
He stops in look of longing, her beauty took his breath, wind gently curling , swirling her enticing billowy dress . No longer would days continue endlessly, fearing death. The mate of her heart gently lifted her to kisses of caress..
Confused by bewildering changes, uncertainty brought chaos into a complicated situation.. a puzzle in the world she tried to conquer as mayhem running through her thoughts slowly began to erode reality.
Approaching a mass of buttons and screens, able to delete a person on a whim. It was enchanting when she began click a button, find a friend. With time, addiction settled in.
Hastening to read the day's news, this was a comfortable place, to get in the way of common sense. How much trouble could it cause clicking the keys of a machine that in itself is harmless until some hapless abuse trolls in?
With the words, "it's only the internet", the realization of its' intensity if one allows it to be, is clear. None the less many friendships have gotten past the barrier of the screen; gossip, misunderstandings, joy, laughter, perplexed, bewildered, saddened. Emotions never leave.
With that, she punches a few keys The knowledge that dealing with people is the same no matter where she settles opens her to continue the journey. She is who she is, just a person attempting to find happiness in an uncertain world.
Puzzled by the changes which led her to become bewildered, she sat while uncertainty brought chaos into an already troubled heart. This would forever be a puzzle in the world she tried to conquer as the mayhem running through her thoughts would slowly begin to break her tattered heart. No longer was she able to look at herself wondering if the lies had turned true. Approaching a world of buttons and screens, able to delete a person on a whim.
It was so enchanting when she began, click a switch, find a friend. With time, addiction settled in and she ran to join whatever was the day's news. This was a comfortable place to sit in her jammies with no makeup, showing only her best side. Naively she allowed trust to get in the way of common sense. How much trouble could it cause
.. .. to talk casually with a man who loved music like she? Why didn't it cross her mind that two people could find love thousands of miles apart? The discovery of the lies broke two hearts and left them shattered. How does this happen tapping the keys of a machine that in itself is harmless until some abuse takes hold breaking hapless hearts. Once back on her feet she ventured out again with only one
purpose; writing. The promise she made to herself was kept, the only relationships she would have were casual and caring. With the words, "it's only the internet", she realized it was much more intense, if one allowed it to be. How do you call someone you've never talked to for more than a minute a friend? None the less many friendships have gotten past the barrier of the
screen and grown; she's comfortable. Deciding to stay she begins to trust until gossip, misunderstandings and the ability to forget anything two people once had together, turns ugly. She's perplexed, bewildered, saddened. With that, she punches a few keys finding a new place to write, swearing to avoid any friendship. She's there to learn, nothing more. The knowledge that dealing with people is the same no matter where she runs breaks her
Perhaps, just this once, no one would care if the words meandered
slowly down the page like sap oozing from the Maple tree
My mind is winding a path of its’ own over the remains of the day.
It’s not nice to put restrictions on a person’s thoughts as long as the wicked stuff causes no harm, while the good finds its’ way to places most needed.
Are my legs moving, is the car far away? Please take these bags, the store sold me bricks. How does one prepare a brick dinner, can it be done? Exhausted,
Will we ever get home,? My eyes won’t keep the view, may I close them?
Weary, that’s the word, everything seems so tired, the colors have dimmed as my need for some rest goes unanswered, the rain taps on the car's glass as if to say ,let me in, let me in. The feeling’s not a sad one, nor is it happy, perhaps a bit numb from wrestling the effects the passage of time puts on ones’ body.
Perhaps no one will notice the absence of me, they might enjoy their solitude, that can be forgiven. My back was throbbing from a long day of nothing to anyone but me. Things might look different in the morning when the sun
starts another piece of my life, tired now, the back is longing for respite. Give me a Coke please, that might cure what ails these worn-out bones, which appeared alright just an hour ago. Are my words roundabout? My mentality will improve should my eyes close for just a bit. It won’t take long, you’ll see, my strength will return soon. Hold my hand, moving forward , can it be done? Perhaps, right now permit me sleep, must begging ensue, that won’t happen.
My take on the blur we seem to get into when engrossed in the computer. Anything could happen, we wouldn't know. Used PS 11- It's awful. Click to get the full effect, it's large. BACKGROUND-I OWN LICENSE Copyrght: dash / 123RF Stock Photo
An ABC poem is a type of poem that has five lines that create a mood, picture, or evokes feelings. These poems are five lines long. The words at the beginning of lines 1 through 4 are in alphabetical order and are made up of words, phrases or clauses. Line 5 is one sentence long and begins with any letter.
She gathered her wits to face them,
The wait was unbearable now.
Under glowing stage lights she let out a deep sigh.
Victory might be achieved, she began.
The dance they’d see gloriously came from her heart.
Comes the dawn ,
Daunted by a night of no sleep.
Each chore needed its’ completion,
Faithfully waits for her action.
Decision; go back to sleep.
After their last encounter,
before the end of loves dance,
came feelings of insecurity.
Disheartening any hope of a chance,
two lovers walk in opposite ways, separation bound to last.