Not Long Mine

I'm glad I loved you while I could,
Although you weren't long mine to hold,
Spring rain to sun to winter-cold
In May, with much more left to say. 

Although you will not hear it all
I'm glad to've loved you while I could, 
And tears do not mean bitterness 
Except unto myself, my dear.

To have inspired such poetry 
Is quite a feat, and much of it.
I'm glad I loved you while I could,
Even if you deserved it not. 

I thought you always would be there
Mon Cher, how foolish and naive 
I should have known. Although I grieve
I'm glad I loved you while I could. 

For DVerse, we are writing quaterns, a French poetry form. I am also linking to Thursday Inspiration, since the theme is hold. Comments are appreciated. I know I didn’t put a lot of imagery in this, but I’ve just got to write my feelings, or I might literally die. 

love free standing letters on top of cabinet
Photo by Tomer Dahari on

A Question

Fandango’s response to Jim Adams’s Thursday Inspiration prompt used the above picture, and it punched me in the gut. That inspired me to immediately post the following poem, which I did not write today but did write yesterday. I am much more than moderately sad but am actually doing better than the last few days. Sharing with DVerse OLN this week.

Did you truly love me,
Or did you just love
How I made you feel?

I found out through tears
That I truly love you, 
Irrespective of your answer.

I am a broken shell
Missing the sounds
Of the ocean

I’m Losing You, part 2

I was going to post this yesterday but then didn’t, so — voilà! Now it’s for NaPoWriMo day 27. When I come up with a good line, I like to repurpose it in several different poetry forms, so I took the first line of my recent Chaucerian stanza and turned it into (I think) an ottava rima.

Also, as of today, the situation to which these poems have referred is pretty much resolved. I’m feeling much better about it. Nevertheless, I’m sharing this ottava rima because I’m rather proud of it. 🙂


I'm losing you, and you won't tell me why,
Do you not feel the distance now between
The two of us? Do you not care? I cry
Because to me the reasons are unseen,
Will you not help? I am not satisfied
With silences and wond'ring what they mean.
Words that you might express would hurt much less
Than Limbo here, alone in my distress.

I’m Losing You

Today’s poem, for NaPoWriMo day 24, is a Chaucerian stanza.

I’m losing you, and you won’t tell me why:
I know there is a distance now between
The two of us, and have already cried
Agony out my eyes. Reason unseen,
I have to guess at what reticence means.
Won’t you give me a dose of honesty,
The better for the both of us to see?

All of Us...
I took this photo a long time ago.
Not sure why, but I think it fits this post, maybe because it was taken near sunset.

Bitter Tears

This is for NaPoWriMo day 7 and is inspired by FOWC: Dismay and the fact that today is Good Friday. It is a reminder for today but also for every day of my life.

truly bitter tears
yet no need for pure dismay —
eagerly await
the space of a couple days
bridged because of patient love

Practicing Patience

For Ronovan Writes’s sijo prompt. Our theme is patience. Maybe next week’s theme will be “discouragement.” I’ve certainly been feeling a lot of that. Depression is a [expletive], dear readers.

Wanting a different life, unable to reach it right now,
Trying to take the right steps, yet tired of trying with no success,
I must believe that one day it will come — that this is not the end.

Ronovan Writes Sijo Challenge Image

Never Giving Up

I will never throw in the towel when it comes to writing. I may not blog every day (despite wanting to participate daily in JusJoJan), but I write every day, both poetry and in a journal. Also, at this point, I will never throw in the towel when it comes to praying the rosary, as I have done so every day for probably 6 years (thanks be to God). It seems more likely that I will throw in the towel on all of life before stopping those 2 things! Nevermind that giving up on life does sometimes seem likely….but that is a whole other topic!

I am never giving up:
Standing in the storm,
Underneath is solid rock,
Something keeps me warm.

Throwing in the towel is no
Option now for me,
I’ll use it to dry my tears
When sun comes to me.

(Just realized I rhymed “me” with “me” — that’s stream-of-consciousness writing for you)


For DVerse’s Quadrille Monday, we are to write a poem of 44 words containing the word “ice.” I couldn’t help dipping my poetic pen-paintbrush into some dark paints. Not sure if it’s good, but it’s the best thing I’ve written all week. 


She tries to ward off his advances,
Feeling helpless as a daisy in a snowstorm
As his icy fingers chillingly caress
Her hair as if it were pure-white petals,
Before he rips them, callously as if limb-from-limb.
Her tears are the dewdrops of mo(u)ring. 
photo of white daisy
Photo by Alan Cabello on

MVB Prompt: Advance.