“But let me tell you this:
loving you wasn’t a choice.
It was inevitable.
And I loved you anyway.”
It didn’t matter to me
what anyone else thought.
It didn’t matter if you
were wrong for me.
I tried to listen
to those whispers,
knowing our odds.
But let me tell you this:
loving you wasn’t a choice.
It was inevitable.
And I loved you anyway.
We might end in heartbreak,
but I just can’t bring myself to care.
© Sarah Doughty
It would be worth it.
It has to be.
For today’s OctPoWriMo prompt. The first broken heart. The lurcher pup in the photo isn’t the one we had briefly. Our little lurcher was grey-black but her face was the same.
Photo©Yohan euan o4
Like bitter beads
strung on a chain
the first, the bitterest,
taste lingers still,
the dreamed of puppy,
too bouncy, too messy,
too demanding,
returned to the pound,
just when she had captured
my heart.
For today’s OctPoWriMo prompt. The first broken heart. The lurcher pup in the photo isn’t the one we had briefly. Our little lurcher was grey-black but her face was the same.
Photo©Yohan euan o4
Like bitter beads
strung on a chain
the first, the bitterest,
taste lingers still,
the dreamed of puppy,
too bouncy, too messy,
too demanding,
returned to the pound,
just when she had captured
my heart.
A gogyohka sequence for Frank Tassone’s weekly challenge
in the field
a tattered man
of sticks and rags
silent stands beneath a sky
heavy with crows
heavy clay the orange earth
and sky grey
slicked with orange light
furrowed field full of crows
no bundle of sticks will scare
I watch you
with your helpless hands
and sightless face
that feels neither sun nor rain
scorned even by the birds
A gogyohka sequence for Frank Tassone’s weekly challenge
in the field
a tattered man
of sticks and rags
silent stands beneath a sky
heavy with crows
heavy clay the orange earth
and sky grey
slicked with orange light
furrowed field full of crows
no bundle of sticks will scare
I watch you
with your helpless hands
and sightless face
that feels neither sun nor rain
scorned even by the birds
From far away and long ago,
Memories of life beginning
On the winds of autumn blow.
From far away and long ago,
The everlasting rivers flow,
Dust of stars and light years bringing,
To add to far and long ago
Memories of life beginning.
I don’t drink coffee.
I quit long ago, don’t remember why.
I quit long ago, you haven’t just noticed yet.
Nevertheless there are two cups on this table.
that is all it takes
to make me feel that we are strangers.
But you are the only stranger who loves me.
You only love me because you don’t know me.
That is all it takes
to make me feel indebted and guilty.
I guess one cup won’t hurt much.
Photo Credit: Unsplash, also from Justice Poetic
I am writing with the rain this morning. The house is quiet, as still as the cup of coffee steaming at my side. At the moment, it’s a calmness quite far from the workings in my mind. As a writer of poetry and fiction, a teacher of young students, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend…I feel overwhelmed today.
Art by Carol Robinson, Morning Abstract Blue
Tranquil time is hard to come by with my schedule, even harder with the level of responsibility…or guilt I place on myself. The more I creep in age; the less time and energy I have to accomplish the great feats I wish to achieve. This is my own desire to create and experience life to its fullest. I want and choose to appreciate the opportunities given to me. But I often feel small in…
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My business is not to remake myself, but to make the absolute best of what GOD made.
Robert Browning
I always thought
I had the compass
That points north to where love is.
I always thought
I’d know where
To follow where it shows.
Yet sometimes,
I feel like my love
Life has gone south – something
I never ever in my mind imagined.
Now i see
That Love is
Not so easy to find –
Not even when its right in front of me
– For i have never loved
Anyone as much as i loved you
Who came into my life
To make me want to wife you.
If you want to see
More poetry
From me
Then please visit the The Poets Peace
The Reluctant Poet 
