honor

In HIS Honor

 

In HIS Honor

In the doorway
where she stood,
she knew she must be
obedient
to her Creator.
Yet
she still asked
for the cup to pass.

With His eyes,
she had seen him—
who he was
created to be; and

he had allowed the enemy
to wreak havoc
in his life;
a blur
of self-doubt
altered his path…
and hers.

With His heart,
she had loved him—
and he broke it; and

with every piece
of her broken heart,
she spoke
the truth in love.
Together,
they cried…
he had gotten
a taste of regret.

With His strength—
she said goodbye.

2013-06-26
P. Wanken

Written for Poetic Bloomings Prompt #113: Hook, Line and Sinker — write a poem using one or all five phrases offered (I used three: “…in the doorway where she stood…”, “…a blur of self-doubt…”, and “…he had gotten a taste of regret…”; as well as for Poetic Asides Prompt #225: write a “challenging situation” poem.

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Six Word SUNday…8/26/12


I was a “featured blogger” yesterday!

 


Kathy at Origami Lotus Poetry featured two of my poems yesterday in her August Blog Bash. You can go here to read the feature:

http://alotus-poetry.livejournal.com/212922.html

For those who follow my normal blogging pattern, you’ll recognize the “six word” tie to my Saturday posts. I’m not sure I’ll make it back online later today, so I’m also posting as Day 53 at “100 Days of Summer” challenge, click here to go to the group’s home page on Facebook.

Generations of Duty

GENERATIONS OF DUTY

A celebratory libation…
or drinking to forget?
I watched my son
with the concern I had
when he was six
and riding his bicycle
without training wheels
for the first time—
an accident waiting to happen.

He sacrificed so much,
was asked to handle
more than his eighteen years.
He charged in to lands
as foreign as Mars.
He helped settle disputes
among confused people
in a troubled nation.
It had taken a toll.

Plenty of times
I remembered that day,
the day my son came home.
I pray that my granddaughter
will get the same chance
when her son comes home
from handling more
than his eighteen years
in a land as foreign as Mars.

2012-03-11
P. Wanken

Written for The Sunday Whirl prompt #47 to use the following words: charged, trouble, accident, mars, libation, sacrificed, toll, confused, plenty, handle, ask, and settle.

What Remains Is Color . . .

 

photo prompt from Flashy Fiction



I will never forget that day, sightseeing. Off in a foreign land, newlyweds with not a care in the world. We did our share of exploring the city’s nightlife, but she was determined to grab every opportunity to enjoy the sights, sounds and smells of sunny Mexico.

So many years have passed…

We let the bustling streets of the port city fill our hearts and minds with memories – the kind of souvenirs we could afford, and could take with us everywhere we went. Stella was particularly enamored with the bursts of bright colors that surrounded us at every turn.

Little did she know how the colors paled in her radiant presence…

On our last day there, just off the beaten path, we came upon a cemetery so unlike anything from back home. Her face lit up, seeing all the bright colors. “They remain in death, as they did in life – full of color! I want to be buried here!” We laughed at the notion of speaking of death and burial, just starting our lives together.

That was four children, nine grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren ago…

We laid her to rest today in that tiny little town in Mexico. No one wore black. My wife of 62 years may be gone, but her color in this world will remain forever. I think she’ll smile, knowing I remembered.

I’ll love you forever, Stella.

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Written for the photo prompt at Flashy Fiction.