On The Other Side
I don’t know how I would get by,
I don’t know how I would survive,
I don’t know how I would face the coming days,
If it weren’t for you.
I tolerate their harsh words.
I endure the pain they inflict on me.
I swallow my sadness.
Because of you.
I do get by.
I do survive.
I do face the coming days.
Because of you.
I tolerate their harsh words,
Because I know you will speak to me with kindness.
I endure the pain they inflict on me,
Because I know you will help heal my wounds.
I swallow my sadness,
Because I know you will bring me happiness.
I come home at the end of the day,
I look through my window to the world,
And I smile.
Despite all the harsh words,
Despite all the pain,
Despite all the sadness,
I smile.
Because I know that somewhere,
On the other side,
There is someone who knows exactly how I feel.
Someone who has heard the harsh words,
Someone who has felt the pain,
Someone who has swallowed the sadness.
Someone out there knows me.
I look through my window to the world,
And I smile.
Because I know that I am not alone.
You lift my spirits.
You make me happy.
You save me.
I look through my window at the end of the day,
And to you, and you alone, I smile and say,
“My friend,
Thank you.”
This is an old poem I recently dug up. I wrote it at a time when I often found myself feeling sad, and someone who always helped me get through those blue moments was my best friend. Thankfully I’ve gotten past that phase in my life, but he’s still my best friend, and I love him very much!
New Beginnings
The hour draws near. Everyone gathers round as the clock hands inch toward the twelve. Almost midnight. Time to head to the beach.
We walk down the path to the shore, surrounded by people heading the same way. We’re all excited for the show that happens every year. We rarely miss the chance to see it on this special night.
The sandy shore is crowded with people ready to start anew. We gather close to the water and pull out the glass bottle and cups. Five minutes now.
The waves roll calmly up the beach. Singing and shouting fills the night. Each of us takes a cup as Dad pours the champagne. We don’t care to join in the loud festivities. We’re content just to be with each other.
Someone starts to count. Ten, nine… We all gather closer as everyone joins in. Eight, seven, six… We think back on all the memories of the past year. Five, four… We hope for even greater times ahead. Three, two, one…
Bright explosions of light and sound fill the sky. Everyone cheers as midnight arrives, bringing the famous fireworks and the beginning of a promising new time. We all share in a toast and exchange hugs and kisses, looking forward to starting a brand new year together. It’s going to be the best yet!
Colors in the sky
Start off Year Twenty-Fourteen
Have a great new year!
A Year Gone By
As I think about
The year gone by,
I smile at the memories
Of 2013,
For I realize
There’s much to celebrate.
But what should I
Celebrate most?
Is it the blog I’ve started?
It’s a big step
Toward my dream.
I’m free to write about
My thoughts and feelings,
And I’m happy to know
Readers enjoy my words.
Is it the stories I’ve written?
I’m very proud
Of the tales I tell.
They’ve opened up
New doors for me,
And they show my voice
To the world.
Is it the people I’ve met?
They’ve been so supportive
Of my writing.
I’ve made some good friends
In the blogosphere,
And I’m glad we can share
In the journey of storytelling.
No, what I should celebrate most
Is the love I’ve always had in my life.
The people I love
Visit my blog,
Read my stories,
Support my writing,
And always make me
Feel special.
I’ll always celebrate
The people I love most,
Because they make
Every year wonderful.
So here’s to the end
Of a great 2013,
And may 2014
Be just as awesome!
Happy New Year!
Paintings and Doors
A movie is like a painting.
A vision of art for the eyes,
The artist projects it for the world
So that viewers may gaze
Upon its beauty.
Its colors and shapes are a landscape,
With a range of depth and movement
As envisioned by its creator.
Like a painting,
A movie evokes emotion.
It stirs the mind
And touches the heart.
It gives a glimpse of another world.
Like the classic still paintings
Hanging in many a museum,
So is the movie
A work of art.
A book is like a door.
Dull and common it appears
As it stands still and untouched,
Waiting to fulfill its only function.
No beauty arises from a still frame;
Its beauty lies in its purpose.
Like a door,
A book does nothing when untouched.
But when opened,
It becomes a gateway into another world.
In a change of scenery
Lie the colors and shapes,
The depth and movement,
The beauty one seeks
In a vision of art for the mind.
Like many simple doors
Standing innocently in their frames,
So is the book
A portal for art.
A movie can only take you so far.
It has its twists and turns,
Its sights and sounds.
But at the end of the ride,
You find yourself right back where you started.
Because to take you somewhere new,
A movie relies
On someone else’s imagination.
A book can take you anywhere.
Its paths can be straight or crooked,
Colored or grayed.
At the end of the ride,
You find yourself in a different world.
Because to take you somewhere new,
A book relies
On your imagination.
Please, keep your paintings.
I’ll show myself the door.
Thankful
I’m thankful for my family,
Whose love has kept me strong.
I’m thankful for the friends I’ve made
To keep my whole life long.
I’m thankful for the books I read
That take me far away.
They show me distant worlds that I
Can visit any day.
I’m thankful for the gift I have
Of telling stories too.
To build worlds out of only words
Is such a dream come true.
I’m thankful for the readers who
Have put their faith in me
To turn out first-rate stories they
Can all enjoy for free.
I’m thankful for the writers who
I’ve met through blogs their own.
Their strong support has shown me that
I’m really not alone.
But most of all, I’m thankful for
The love I’ve found in art
For readers, writers, books and words
That truly touch my heart.
So on this day of giving thanks,
I’d simply like to say:
I’m thankful for each one of you!
Happy Thanksgiving Day!
Happy Thanksgiving to all my family and friends, including you fellow readers and writers! I’m grateful to have you in my life. God bless you all!
Intelligent vs. Smart
An intelligent person knows how to carry on a conversation with other intelligent people.
A smart person knows how to carry on a conversation with anyone.
An intelligent person knows when it’s OK to be completely honest.
A smart person knows when to be honest, and when it is absolutely necessary to lie.
An intelligent person can tell the exact moment when everything went wrong.
A smart person can tell the exact moment when everything will go wrong, and figure out how to prevent it from ever happening.
An intelligent person doesn’t need to be asked twice to do a favor.
A smart person doesn’t need to be asked once.
An intelligent person knows how to make a valid point to any idiot.
A smart person knows that to try to make a valid point to an idiot is a waste of time.
I am an intelligent person.
But often I wish I were smart.
If I Had Wings
If I had wings, I’d fly away,
Up to the sky, so bright and clear.
If I had wings, I’d leave today
To travel far away from here.
I’d spread my wings and I’d take flight.
I’d flap and flap with all my might,
So maybe I could finally see
The joy birds know of being free.
I’d feel the wind against my face
While flying o’er the endless sea.
Within the sunlight’s warm embrace,
A carefree soul at last I’d be.
As freedom calls me evermore,
My heart cries out for me to soar.
Beyond the mountains, past the sea,
Nothing but blissful peace for me.
But as far as a bird is willing to fly,
It always comes home, and so would I.
The Timid Writer
They say I’m different.
They say I’m unusual.
They say that I’m beautiful,
That I’m intelligent,
That I’m talented.
But they think I’m unhappy.
They look at me and wonder,
“Why doesn’t she smile?
Why doesn’t she laugh?
Why doesn’t she talk?”
They don’t know me.
I am smiling.
I do laugh.
And I have no need to talk.
Why should I bother?
No one really listens to me anyway,
At least, not here.
But I’m not here.
I’m far away,
Drifting in my own thoughts,
In my own world,
Where no one can catch me
Or pin me down.
They go about their own boring lives.
They follow the same routine every day.
Not me.
That life is not mine.
I never had it,
And I never want it.
My days shall be free
Of dreadful, boring routine
For as long as I live.
I am smiling.
I do laugh.
And I don’t bother talking.
They don’t know me.
They don’t hear me.
They don’t see me.
And I don’t care.
Because I’m free.
In My Lover’s Arms
I’m lying in his arms.
The world is gone.
It’s just the two of us.
As I lay with my head to his chest,
I feel his heartbeat.
Mine grows faster.
I hear his slow breathing.
My breathing quickens.
I sense him drifting off to sleep.
And I smile as I let him.
Such passion…
Such pleasure…
How did I come to be here?
Even now, I can’t recall
How fortune delivered me
Into his arms.
Fate has smiled kindly at me.
I sense his heartbeat growing calm.
His breathing is slow and steady.
His eyes are closed.
With a racing heart,
Rapid breathing,
And a bright smile,
I turn to face him.
I lean forth
And softly kiss his chest.
I raise my head
And gently kiss his neck.
I raise myself a little higher
And sweetly kiss his cheek.
Then I lean in close to his ear,
And while he dreams peacefully,
I whisper my confession,
My reality, to him…
“I love you.”
Orchids
Visions of beauty are they.
Open petals,
Vivid colors,
Strong leaves.
In full bloom,
In the prime of their life,
They are her pride and joy.
She smiles at their beauty.
She speaks highly of their blooms,
Coloring her home
And bringing light into her world.
Such beautiful flowers
Are her beloved orchids.
But what would flowers be
Without a caretaker?
Their petals would droop.
Their colors would fade.
Their leaves would wilt.
The very life in them would vanish
Into the memory
Of an ephemeral spring.
For it is she who provides comfort,
She who waters them,
She who talks to them,
And she who urges them to live.
They would be nothing
Without her care,
Without her encouragement,
Without her affection.
The orchids may be
The most beautiful flowers,
But they owe their life to her
For her nurturing love.
Happy Birthday to my wonderful mother! Thank you for all the love and care you’ve given me my whole life; I wouldn’t be who I am today without you. I love you!
About J.C. Wolfe
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The Wolfe's (Writing) Den by J.C. Wolfe is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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