Winter Blossom
I saw her on that cold December night,
A touch of color on the virgin snow.
The winter rose had just begun to grow,
And suddenly I knew true love’s first sight.
Her scarlet petals shamed the ivory white
Of snowflakes dancing in the moonlit glow.
She’d sing of summer days she longed to know,
And talk with me until the morning light.
Yet she had bloomed too soon to have it said
That she would live to feel the summer’s bliss
Before the frost could spirit her above.
Come spring, I found my winter rose lay dead.
In trembling hands, I blessed her with a kiss,
And shed a farewell tear for my lost love.
Just Say It
(Third place winner of Writer’s Carnival’s Poet-less Poetry contest!)
I tried to sing a ballad,
But my voice was way off key.
I tried to paint a picture,
But I draw so terribly.
I tried to cite a sonnet,
But I messed up every rhyme.
I tried to dance a solo,
But I couldn’t keep the time.
So I’m writing you this poem
In the hope you’ll find it fun.
You know I’d never work this hard
To please just anyone.
For life is far too fleeting
And my feelings far too true
To find a boring way of saying,
“Darling, I love you!”
The Day I Stopped Caring
The day I stopped caring was the greatest day of my life.
That was the day I heard the voice inside. The voice that set me free.
I used to be terrified of what everyone thought. My life was nothing but overwhelming fear of judgment and humiliation. After every move I made, I would worry about how someone might react. Anyone could be a critic. Everyone’s opinion mattered.
Most nights, I’d cry myself to sleep. All I wanted was to please people, to be accepted. I wanted my actions to mean as much as everyone else’s did.
And then one day, I woke up to the sound of that voice. Not the pretend voice I used to kid myself or make myself feel better. The real voice deep inside that had finally endured enough phoniness and decided to speak up.
It only asked me the one question. But that was exactly what I needed to hear.
“Why do you care?“
Why did I care? Why did I care what people said? Why did I care what people did? Why did I care what people thought? I didn’t know. And when I realized I didn’t have an answer, something incredible happened.
The fear just… disappeared.
Suddenly, I wasn’t afraid anymore. I no longer felt embarrassed about bad memories that everyone else had long forgotten. I stopped trying to hide the things I liked that nobody else understood. I quit doubting myself and began trusting in my own abilities. And never again did I let anyone laugh at me, because now they were laughing with me.
I had stopped being afraid, and started living life. All because that voice inside had made me realize whose opinion really matters most.
What a liberating day that was.
The day I stopped caring what anyone thinks… but me.
Thank You
Thank you for the laughter
That brings me close to tears.
Thank you for the gentle words
That wash away my fears.
Thank you for the memories
Of such a happy youth.
Thank you for the values
You have taught me through the truth.
Thank you for the pride you show
In all my works of art.
Thank you for the love you give
That’s always in my heart.
I don’t know who I’d be today
Had God not given me
The gift for which I thank Him most:
The world’s best family!
Thank you to my wonderful family for everything you do for me! I’m thankful for all of you every single day! Happy (belated) Thanksgiving! I love you with all my heart!
Shade
Did I really have a nightmare? Or did a noise downstairs wake me?
Did I really forget to turn the lights off? Or did they switch back on after I went to sleep?
Did I really leave the door open? Or was it a draft in the hallway?
Did I really move that chair? Or did it push itself across the room?
Did I really sleepwalk through the kitchen? Or did the open fridge empty itself?
Did I really see my own shadow in the mirror? Or was it a phantom?
Am I imagining things? Am I losing my mind?
Or am I not alone?
Abducted
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
I thought that spot in the sky was a star.
It didn’t occur to me that stars don’t waver.
We screamed as the bright lights blinded us.
I tried to run with everyone else.
But they had come for me.
The ground beneath me vanished.
No way out now.
Only one way.
Their way.
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Remember Me
Do you remember me?
How much can you now see?
Are all your memories there,
Wherever you may be?
I wanted to believe
That you would never leave,
That we’d never see the day
When we would have to grieve.
Yet I saw how much they’d strain.
I knew you were in pain,
That all their love and care
Would only be in vain.
Could you recognize
The sadness in our eyes?
How every name you’d say
Would come as a surprise?
I’m sure you always knew
The people there for you.
Your memory was strong
As your love for us was true.
And now that you are gone,
Somehow we must move on.
The pain had gone too long,
But the peace has finally won.
So please remember me
Wherever you may be.
Look down on me with grace
And see my smiling face
To know at last you’re free.
In loving memory of my grandfather, who lived his last years with Alzheimer’s before he passed away. I love you, Grandpa! I hope you remember us where you are now. We’ll certainly always remember you.
All Hallows’ Eve
On the last October day,
When the sun has gone away,
The monsters all come out to play
And take over the night.
Vampire bats and witches fly
Through the moonlit autumn sky.
Hear them laugh while passing by
To fill the air with fright.
Zombies rise up from the ground.
Ghosts float by without a sound.
What fun it is to look around
And see costumes galore.
Children wanting something sweet
Get all the candy they could eat
Just for shouting “Trick or Treat!”
Outside a stranger’s door.
Light a pumpkin with a face
To decorate the haunted place
Where monsters gather to embrace
The year’s most frightening scene.
So step into our scary dreams
Where nothing is quite what it seems,
And all around, you hear the screams
Of “Happy Halloween!”
The Monster in My Room
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
It was the only thing I ever feared growing up.
It started with the missing socks from my drawer.
Then the snacks in my backpack started disappearing.
The food trails went under the bed.
I thought I was done for.
One night, I saw it.
It bared its teeth.
I knew then.
“Carrot sticks!”
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Don’t Be Invisible
Sometimes I wonder if it was all a dream.
I’d walk through the halls alone, always with my head down, never looking them in the eye. Maybe I was afraid they’d see too far into my soul.
Nobody ever saw into me. They only ever saw through me.
It was fear that guided me, fear that blinded me, fear that trapped me.
My solitude lasted to the end of those years. I felt like a ghost in their world. I almost believed they could feel a chill whenever I walked by.
I watched them grow and blossom into such interesting people. I knew their stories, their values, their hopes and their fears. I knew everyone’s name. Did anyone know mine?
I realized my mistake too late. I should have been brave. I should have reached out. I should have said hello every day, and asked how they were, and spent time with them any chance I had.
I should have tried to be part of their world. Instead, I chose to be invisible.
So don’t make the same mistake I did. Be brave. Live life. Choose to be seen.
Youth passes like a dream. Those who live it gain friendships and experience to take into the real world, while all that’s left for the invisible is to someday flip through a senior yearbook and scribble on the blank signature page that one question that will haunt them for years…
Did I ever exist?
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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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