Eight – Poem of the Month – August 2018

Eight

When I was eight
Things were not so great
Life gave me such a kick
I grew up pretty quick
A child expecting a present
Instead was delivered unpleasant
My parents started fighting
Just the beginning of writing
That was clearly on the wall
Witnessing the nightly brawl
My father was an unhappy man
My mother trying the best she can
The combination explosive
Their relationship corrosive
Living life under cumulus clouds
Feeling like the dead covered in shrouds
I learned to fake
Even though my heart would ache
Every ounce of pain
They delivered without refrain
Hurting each other mercilessly
Only to be regretted remorsefully
Suffering the pain as a mortal
Damage to the psyche immortal
Communication with each other
Was really like no other
I was the chosen intermediary
Carrying their messages diligently
The peacekeeper of the house
Keeping family secrets quiet as a mouse
Too clever for my young age
I became the family sage
Learning the art of improvise
Trying to get parents to compromise
It was a huge burden to carry
Acting as their emissary
On the shoulders of someone so young
At eight years old this was no fun
They were unable to make decisions
There were only divisions
A merry go round of hostility
I finally had enough servility
If I had any potential
Then escape was essential
Breaking loose of that scene
When I was eighteen

Christine Bolton

Word Prompts of the day:

Potential

Clouds

Immortal

Present

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The Old Tower

It was an easy amble along the cliff top until they could see the old tower standing majestically overlooking the cove.

As they approached, the ruins of the old abbey came into full view and the memory of childhood adventures came rushing back, like a tidal wave, into Joanna’s mind.  They were such happy times.  It was always the three of them.  Joanna, Mindy and Steven.  The Three Musketeers – all for one, one for all.  They had been inseparable.  Mindy looked at Jo and they both smiled, knowing each other’s thoughts as if they were their own.  It had always been that way.

The large oak door to the tower was noticeably open as they scrambled up the hill.  The wind whipping their long hair around their faces making it hard to see where they were going and the sun was bright in their eyes.

They could make out a silhouette in the doorway.  At first glance Mindy thought it was Steven and called out his name. There was no response.  As they got closer they could see that it wasn’t. A man, probably around the same age as Steven was smiling at them in a friendly, welcoming way.

“Hello there” he said, holding out his hand.  “My name is Charles Webster and I represent the owner of this property”

Joanna and Mindy stopped in their tracks, surprised and confused.

“What?” Said Joanna.  “I…. l don’t understand”

She continued, “The ruins, and the land it is on, is owned by the village”

“Yes, that’s right”, blurted out Mindy.  “Do you have some identification?

Charles Webster, Solicitor, produced his business card.

“What is going on here?”  Said Mindy. “Are you some kind of shark?”

“This property has been owned by the village of Glen Cove for three centuries.  It would never be sold”

“I’m sorry but it has” Charles Webster contradicted her.

Both Joanna and Mindy were beginning to be visibly upset.  This was supposed to be a happy reunion of the three childhood friends at their most cherished place.  They had played on the ruins of the old abbey for many summers, pretending and dreaming.  Living out fantasies of damsels in distress calling from the top of the tower to the gallant knight down below.  Other times, Steven pretending to be Friar Tuck and the girls taking turns at being Maid Marian or Robin Hood.

Joanna walked away and was silent for a long time.  These were the happiest times of their lives and most likely whoever had purchased the property would raze everything to the ground and build some obnoxious looking, oversized house dominating the coastline.  How could this happen without them knowing?  Why hadn’t their families or someone in the village let them know what was going on?  She realized sadly the only thing that is inevitable is change and if that was the way it was going to be, there was nothing they could do about it.

She walked back to where she had left Mindy and the Solicitor.  “Ok”, said Joanna eventually to Charles Webster.  “Who exactly do you represent?”

At that moment, the large oak door was pulled open and Steven stepped out.

“Surprise!” He said gleefully.  The girls stood there mouths open in shock.

Steven continued, “There was no way this wonderful place was ever going to be sold to a developer.  The village needed the cash and I made sure they got it and their history and our memories are preserved.”

“Charlie and I had you going there for a while didn’t we?” he said wickedly, winking at his friend.  Typical of Steven

The three old friends hugged each other and through their tears of joy they chimed.

“All for one, one for all”

Christine Bolton

Multiple Word Prompts today…..Phew!

Rag Tag Community: Open

Daily Word Prompt: Noticably

Word of the Day Challenge: Amble

Scotts Daily Prompt: Friendly

Fandango One Word Challenge: Memory

Haunted Wordsmith 3 Things Challenge: Tower, Tidal Wave, Shark

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Resumé

Sorrowful and woebegone is your life
When you take a good look
Checking in and out of relationships
Like a dog-eared library book

As a stroke on a keyboard
Searching all the profiles
Life’s offerings in a database
Bringing on the fake smiles

Following one another like lemmings
With no fear of stepping off the ledge
Not even considering the consequences
Balancing your life on the edge

A leap of faith into the unknown
Do you have the stomach for it
A resumé of lies churning out the match
Maybe today is the day when something will fit

Be another lamb on its way
Blindly to the slaughter
Maybe this time you’ll get chosen
Another chance, another day, no time to falter

Secretly scorn those successful
For they create the legend
You are destined to follow them
On your journey to transcend

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

Word of the Day Challenge: Woebegone

Daily word Prompt: Scorn

Fandango one word challenge: Legend

Moonlight

In a moon punctured velvety sky
The stars shone like bright lights
Glinting through pinholes reminiscent of
A thousand and one Arabian nights

A backdrop dramatic in its splendor
Showcasing the beauty of nature’s jewels
She reclined on a blanket of leaves
Her eyes drawing him into her limpid pools

The young and petulant girl had matured
She was now beautiful and seductive
Contrarily he remained socially awkward
Heuristic in his approach and still selective

Her infinite beauty was breathtaking
He felt rooted in the earth
A feeling of inadequacy consumed him
As he suffered in his dearth

She enthralled him on the forest floor
Devouring his manhood as she wished
Helpless in his efforts to dissuade her
Laying still until completely ravished

They lay holding each other tight
As if the other might disappear
Clinging to the sweet memory of love
Staring up at the celestial sphere

She was everything he had dreamed of
Although his superstition had given him fear
She elegantly propped herself on one elbow
And said, “Did you bring any beer?”

Christine Bolton

Word of the Day Challenge: Petulant

Rag Tag Community: Superstition

Fandango One Word Challenge: Fear

Daily Word Prompt: Heuristic

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