HOLIDAY DEATH

DUELING HOLIDAYS

Today is the day

            when ghosts and goblins play

            porch lights shine

            rivers of candy flow

Sadness lingers throughout

            redness and water cloud the eyes

            family and friends sit stunned

            questions overpower the candy

Thirty four years ago on a

            cold Christmas morn

            we gazed at your smile

            dreamed of the future

Over the years we learned to

            listen to your words

            watched as you grew into a man,

            husband and father

You wore the uniform of

            a country you loved so much

            your flag flew high

            patriotism brought you to your knees

You married the love

            of your life, on that warm

            Fourth of July, promising

            to be forever present

Your son shines your smile and

            wonders why, you won’t be there

            to play your goblin tricks

            when they ask for treats

Today is the day when

            darkness came before the sun

            set in this small country town

            you loved so much

You came to earth on

            such a joyous day

            but you left on the

            day of ghosts and goblins

You were a child of the holidays

            Christmas is joyous no more

            life without you is so hard

            you are forever with your father

The memories you left behind

            are all I have –

            the smiles, laughs, jokes and pranks

            but mostly the love we shared

Holidays will duel again this year, and

            will bring back the memories

            of a son who shines brightly

            in the heavens looking down

QUESTIONING LOVE

WHY?

 

Why? Is it me?

 

 

Or is your heart…

…not part

of this…

 

Is it you?

 

Or is your heart…

…not part

of this…

Or is it just us?

 

Not the right time…

…not the right place

 

Just why…is it not me?

 

                                                                        Written by Marilyn Duncan-Buck

                                                                        Copyright 2009

SHORT POEMS WITH BIG MEANINGS

 

MY STORY

 

Should I begin…

“Once upon a time”

Or should it be…

“Many years ago”

Where do I start…

Or begin the story

The middle flows out…

Or in – however

Then there is the end…

Where does it stop?

Or does it?

 

                                                            Written by Marilyn Duncan – Buck

                                                            Copyright 2008

NON-TRADITIONAL POEM FORMATS

WHERE WILL IT GO>OR WILL IT GO

 

You say you can>But can you say>Today you will>Or will you today>Make the most of

your time>Or time the most>Can you decide to do it>Or do it and decide>Will you

achieve>Or achieve what you will>Can we believe what you say>Or do you say what

you believe>Can you see what is ahead>Or ahead do you see>Do you know what you

mean>Or mean what you know>Can you forget what today is>Or today will you

forget>Do you understand what I say>Or do I say to understand>Is it fun to be here>Or

here is it fun>Can you learn by this>Or will this you learn>Can we continue forever>Or

will forever continue>What is confusing>Or is confusing what is>I can go on>But on

will I go

 

Non-traditional format created and written by Marilyn Duncan – Buck

Copyright 2004

FAMILY

YOU ARE MISSED

 

Seven years ago today…

…you left us

…your short battle came to an end

…your courageous life cut short

 

You are so missed.

 

With each new day, I now see

…through your eyes

…the beauty you so enjoyed

You are so missed

You taught me to appreciate each day

…the colors of a new rainbow

…the fresh snow on a mountain top

…the beauty of a peaceful stream

…the love of a family

I wish we would have had more time,

so I could have learned better.

I miss your firm hand,

leading us down the path.

 

Without you life is hard

…no one to share thoughts and fears with

…there is so much sadness in my heart

…I miss our talks and your advice

Remember always daddy, you are so missed.

 

                                                                       Written by Marilyn Duncan – Buck

                                                                        Copyright 2003

 

WHAT IF POEMS

WHAT WOULD YOU “SEE”

 

If you closed your eyes,

and could not see…

 

…the beauty of a rose,

how would it be?

 

Would you savor its sweet smell?

Or touch the velvet petals.

 

…the radiant color of each bud

…or the beauty of its long sleek stem.

 

Or would a water drop on a leaf stand out

or would the love in the eyes of the receiver reveal the beauty.

 

If you closed your eyes,

and could not see.

 

                                                                                    Written by Marilyn Duncan – Buck

                                                                                    Copyright 2004

 

SHORT STORY #2

THE SHORT STORY WITHIN

 

It was a crisp clear autumn evening. The breeze lightly pushing through the open

            window, causing the freshly starched curtains to flutter lightly. It was clear that

            the seasons were changing. The hot humid summer had been nudged aside by the

            fall air. This is my favorite time of the year to write. After all, I must give myself

            plenty of reading material for those long winter nights.

 

The cool smell of the autumn lingered in the room. In the near distance I could hear the

            sounds of the leaves rustling in the trees. They seem to be working hard to free

            themselves, eventually making their way to the ground. It seems like a perfect

            evening to ponder thoughts and transcribe them to paper. I glanced around

            looking for inspiration. Thinking, surely something would jar these brain cells.

 

As I stood in the breeze, which gently engulfed the room, my attention turned to the

            drifting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I turned to the computer and flipped the

            switch. Then as if in a trance, followed the aroma to the kitchen, there on the

            cabinet was the source of the aroma, the trophy – fresh coffee. It seemed to be

            gently calling my name. I retrieved my favorite cup from the cupboard and  

            carefully poured the coffee – my diamond in the rough. The fragrant stimulant

            started to open the clogged cells of my brain. Savoring my first sip, I puttered

            back into the other room. Standing over my desk, I looked at the stacks of

            scribbled notes. Somewhere in this pile there was surely an inspiration.

 

Taking another sip of the coffee, I nestled into my chair. My attention was diverted out

            the open window. As if in a daze, I found myself gazing out into the open world

            beyond. Breathing in the crisp evening air – I became engulfed in thought. Where

            do I start? When do I stop? What do I really say? Time seemed to stand still, or

            moving at the pace of a snail. I seemed to be digging deeper into my thoughts to

            grab onto some sort of short story.

 

Suddenly – CRACK – the sound of a branch falling from the tree outside, broke my spell.

            I shifted in the chair, and looked in amazement at the computer screen. It seems

            that while I was stranded somewhere in the realm of deep thoughts, the little short

            story fairy took over. The screen was full of very descriptive words. Each

            sentence was complete and correctly punctuated. Wow! This is great! Reading it

            over, I suddenly declared – this short story is complete.

 

                                                Written by Marilyn Duncan – Buck

                                                Copyright 2009