A MOURNING

[Photo Source: Google internet images]

(8 June 2012 – There are no Rules for Grief, no Timeline for Mourning, and no Rules of Etiquette for Bereavement.  My own Mourning began in 1962 and leaves its brush strokes of Grief on the canvas that is my Heart.  dht)

 

The images in my head are of memories – liken to distant dreams – that sadden my Heart, mute my voice, and dampen my cheeks.

Soft voices murmur whispers of remembered times spent with those loved – yet lost in the Past.

Those precious few memories reside now in the cemetery of my Heart. 

My Life's Journey has become a Story of woe and sorrow.

Each Day is a wake – a funeral – celebrating the hallowed Past. 

The Present offers only numbness and regret – A Mourning of those loved and lost.

[Dorothy Hazel Tarr]

A NEW DAY

                    [PHOTO SOURCE: National Geographic online images]
  

(7 Jun 2012 – When I wrote this last year, my thoughts flowed over the years passed and tears flooded my eyes with the memories of times gone by—never to return but as shadows in a surreal Heart. dht)

So, What will the hands of time say on that new day;

Where will I be when that day arrives;

When will the hand writer of destiny inevitably turn the pages towards me;

So, Is this the sunrise that will announce the first day of the rest of my new life;

Moving on is simple, it's what you leave behind that is NOT simple;

Memories are the only things that don't change;

My tears are just the words my heart uses to explain my pain;

Thank you for the giving me the best days of my life;

I'll never forget the times we once shared .. and

I'll always remember how much you once cared .. but

Now it's over and it's time to move on, .. to

A NEW DAY.

[-Dorothy Hazel Tarr]

  

LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM

Submitted by: Dorothy Hazel Tarr 

(I wrote this on 12 Sep 2011 at my kitchen table, looking out at my backyard.  The day is overcast and gray, with a soft breeze, and a pleasant 72 degrees – such a perfect day for quiet reflections.)

OH, sweet dreams of youth --

Come lightly and ease Day's Tears --

As I slip into Nether's World --

Succumbing to well-traveled Dream's promises. 

Illusions of Love swirl about --

Seizing a Heart by deceit --

With promises pledged --

Of a faithful Heart. 

Fading echoes of endearment --

Mock Winter's shadows --

Smile's frequent visit to my lips --

Lost now -- Absent by misadventure. 

Only the sunrise and sunset --

Turn the pages of Life --

As one day meanders into next --

Whispers of Love's Young Dream – that never was.

[dht-2011]

[Photo Source: Google online images]

WITHERED DREAMS

(I wrote this, 27 Aug 2011, thinking about the end of Summer and the withering blooms in the garden, some going dormant 'til Spring's awakening, while others gone forever more, lost to Winter's regret. [dht-2011])

*** WITHERED DREAMS ***

Sober Dreams shrouded in regrets still haunt,
with ever increasing frequency,
Transported "Home" in an enduring vision –
quietly sweeping and weeping
through the passageways of my mind.

When the "Fantasy of my Love"
turns to me with a smile,
I see through the haze of my slumber,
Spring's visage of Love's Tender Care.

OH -- for a portal through which one can return,
to a Time long passed and recoup innocence lost,
to revive a Dreamer's Fantasy long ago withered.

Yet tis ever naught, after all,
but a Dreamer's Tisane, a haunting illusion.

Naught but a Withered Dream.
[dht-2011]

                                     [PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

After the Storm – Come the Tears

(I wrote this, 10 Aug 2011, thinking of the many losses in our life—Loss of youth, health, money, safety, privilege, prestige, respect, honors, LOVE, spouses, children, and family -- as a special tribute to those in my circle who feel their loss so keenly.)


*** AFTER THE STORM – COME THE TEARS ***

The poetical world is as a lyrical preface to Life's SCRIPT,
where light illuminates the STAGE,
with a jewel-like iridescence,
flickering over the richly embroidered PLAY.

A sadness imbues the atmosphere
with a sense of time and space,
whispering of generations past and lost
and PREVIEWS of generations to come.

The PLAY rages in a tempest at Life's Zenith,
as the Storms of Life forge a Path,
leaving behind loss of Love and Hearth in their wake.

As of a sudden, the Storm passes
and the Tears fall as gentle rain upon the SET.
After the Storm – come the tears.

[dht-2011]

[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

I Still Know Who She Is

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00.

The Nurse took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him. The Nurse saw him looking at his watch and, since the Nurse was not busy with another patient, decided to evaluate his wound. On examining it, the Nurse saw it was well healed, and talked to one of the other Nurses and got the needed supplies to remove the sutures and redress the wound.

While taking care of the wound, the Nurse asked the elderly gentleman if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, since he was in such a hurry. The gentleman said, no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. The Nurse inquired as to her health and the gentleman told him that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's disease. As they talked, the Nurse asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. The gentleman replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him for five years now.

The Nurse was surprised and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?' The elderly gentlemen smiled as he patted the Nurse's hand and said, 'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is.' The Nurse had to hold back tears, and had goose bumps, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life'.


SAYINGS

True love is neither physical nor romantic'. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

Peace is seeing a sunset and knowing who to thank.

The happiest people do not necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.

I hope you share this with someone you care about, I just did..

Life is not about how to survive the storm but how to dance in the rain.

The road to success is not straight. There is a curve called Failure, a loop called Confusion, speed bumps called Friends, red lights called Enemies, caution lights called Family. You will have flats called Jobs. But, if you have a spare called Determination, an engine called Perseverance, insurance called Faith, a driver called Almighty God, you will make it to a place called Success.

[~unknown]

BITTERSWEET ABSENCE

                                [Photo Source: Google online image]
 

Their absence in my Life is a Bittersweet ache still – that throbs in the back of my Heart, whenever I think of them which is often – but actually all the time!

After all, when I left in 1978 at age 32, they had been my Family – my Loves – for more than half my Life!  He was age 36 and our child age 14  - we were so young to be living in a Family without Love!

Now, at age 65, I still feel the pain of separation – the void where once Family existed and Never would be again in my Life!

However, there were no other options back then, and the pain of "Family" was killing my spirit and body with the sickness of neglect, betrayal, lies, and Lost Love!

The Loss – ever fresh – in my Heart and mind – has Never healed!

Some deep wounds Never do – such as in my case!

Sad and puzzling – really – for there was NO Loss for them – they went on with their Lives – without me – as if I NEVER was there at all, or ever had been!

No wonder then, why I was dying a slow death, day by day, when I resided under the same roof with Them!

The Pain was so BAD – I was seeing two doctors and taking medicine to dull the emotional pain and trauma!

They were killing me slowly!

Moreover, They still are – in their Bittersweet Absence from my Life!

(Submitted by: Dorothy Hazel Tarr)