Little m Long a

It should be later.

But it’s not.

It feels later.

Not hours.

Days.

Like maybe Sunday.

But I’d be watching football.

Not sitting here.

Wondering.

Why the week isn’t through.

I offer again, Sunday Sonnets with little intro or background inspiration this morning for my children are in dire need of an arbitrator, a peace keeper.

What they really need is to have their little whiny, arguing hides tanned and I need some coffee!

I Was Happy Then

I was happy then, smiling .
Hugs and kisses were exchanged
And laughter filled the air.
Serenity, though but a dream.

Thuds and screaming.  Doors slammed.
“I want it!”  “No I want it!”
Battle lines drawn.  Warriors engaged.
Chaos. Calamity–this is real!

Why do we have to fight
And argue over every little thing?
There’s at least a thousand toys
And you all want the same one?

Just let me go back to sleep….
I was happy then.

It’s been another whirlwind week: resuming school,  impending storms, conventions, bizarre announcements and college football!  Life is surely a coaster ride.  I’ve found it’s a lot more enjoyable when you are able to loose your grip from the safety bar and raise your arms carefree.  Maybe even emitting a little–WAHOO!!! for good measure.

But don’t close your eyes.  Things are happening fast.  Very fast.  And should you let your guard down just a little, chances are you will miss something very, very important.This week’s Sunday Sonnet was inspired by what I can only determine to be the truest testament reflecting how those that are or wish to be in power actually regard me.

Thanks, John

What tiny faction of enlighted souls
Could have possibly thought this prudent?
So tightly controlled.  Calculated.
Almost sinister.

Haughty posturing and self
serving idealisms conveyed.
As if you really cared.
Definitely sinister.

Surprising still, is the narrowing chasm.
The margins reduced as we
Continue our fleecing.
Bitter pills, indeed.

And now, Sarah Palin?
Thanks John–we needed that!

In just over two months, every single one of you (of proper age, of course) will have an opportunity.  An opportunity to speak your mind, to have your voice heard.  Think hard about what you wish to say.  Study.  Prepare.  When your turn comes, do you wish to sound well prepared and intelligent?  Or like an idiot!

It’s been a few weeks.  I bet you thought I had forgotten.  I bet you wish I had forgotten.  Sunday Sonnets have returned, at least for this week.  And no, I have not gotten any better at composing sonnets.  I’m not studying sonnets or reading sonnets for inspiration.  Fact of the matter is, I really don’t even know what a sonnet is!  I know it’s supposed to have 14 lines but I think the lines are supposed to have some sort of meter and quite possibly rhyme.

I’ve got 14 lines.  That’s about it.  I just picked the moniker because I thought it sounded good.  I  could have just as easily called the series–Hey Look, I Wrote a Poem!  But it’s not really poetry either.

So, anyway.  It’s been quite a long week full of activity, last minute school preparations, end of sumer blowout family fun days, kittens, and more.  Yet somehow, this weeks Sunday Sonnet was inspired by a fairly traumatic personal experience for me where in I replaced my wallet, my companion, of some twenty years.  The replacement wallet came from a little Amish leather shop we had visited on Tuesday.

It lasted 3 days!

You Never Had a Chance

It’s not your fault, believe me.
You had no control over how this would play out.
It’s not you, it’s me.
Really.

You tried.  You gave it a go.
I tried you also, but my heart was never in it.
Don’t get me wrong, I like you.
I do.

But you’re not the same.
You never will be.  You never could be.
We had a history.  A lifetime.
You had three days.

I gave you a chance, but you never really had one.
Twenty years is just too much to overcome.

(Last night, I pulled out my sewing machine and repaired my dear old wallet.  The way I see it, it could last another couple of years.  Maybe then, I’ll be ready for a replacement.)

Zoë and her mother spent the better part of last evening looking at dresses.  They oohed and ahhed over each new find noting differences and similarities in the ones that they liked.  An innocuous exercise on the surface yet shockingly harsh in it’s reality.  Painful  in it’s intents as I came to realize that try as I may, I am powerless.  I attempt to control, to steer, to guide, to shape, and to mold the lives of my children with a vision of what I believe to be good and honorable.  I instruct and chastise, comfort and soothe.  As a parent, I am provider and a source.

Yesterday I came to realize the infinitesimally small amount of control that I actually have.  Time has far more power and I am defenseless to it.  Whether or not I am ready, my children are growing up.  You see, yesterday evening Zoë and her mother spent the better part of two hours looking for a First Communion Dress.  The harsh realities of the situation humbled me.  It has also inspired this week’s Sunday Sonnets.

I Seek Simplicity

Like it or else, time does wait.
Our children grow though we resist.
Their minds ever expanding as the world
In which they live continues to grow smaller

Objects become concepts and pat
Answers are no longer acceptable as
Explanation of the ordinary.
My kids are growing up.

Haughty, my spirit is lifted as once
Impossible tasks are now ordinary.
Rudimentary conversation is replaced
With provocation and depth.

Time matures us, teaches and molds, not me.
I long for the comfort of simplicity.