Cluttered

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Mind, home, closets, counters,shelves, drawers stuffed to the max,

As thin

gs, thoughts overflow, every surface overwhelm,

Too much, will never use, out of focus, 

Scattered, frenzied pace, racing to fro thrift shop, bringing in more stuff,

To distract from loneliness, pain that cuts too deep to face alone.

 

Rain

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from my welcome to closer to sane blog,a mental health blog.

Rain

Rain While we need it, We don't need it every day, But, it's been pouring daily, from where I sit, Watching the drops of water fall and trees sway, With the wind blowing their branches and leaves falling, Instead of for rain, I pray for a sunny day, Listening to birds sing, Feeling the warmth of the sun, Not the coolness of the clouds in the sky, Then I can get something done, Outside, tidying up, I'll try, For now the streets are soaked with rain, buckets of the stuff have filled my flower pots, It has now become a pain, As sun too is needed for fruit,crops,trees and forget me nots, So now instead of a rain dance, I will wish for a sunny sky, As I watch the animals prance, From my window by and by, Yes, it's high time for some sun, I long for it's warmth on my face, and the summer fun, It's vibrant glow on this place, That not is wet and dull, The streets resemble a ghost town, Empty and the sounds are at a lull, No activity can be seen in this now sleepy town, The rain seems to have washed away the people as well, As watered the ground and soil, The air is heavy with a damp smell, Soon, men will toil, Under the hot sun's rays, On rooves,fields,streets, They will seem as if in a daze, While others complain of the heat, And wish that it would rain.

Rain

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Rain While we need it, We don't need it every day, But, it's been pouring daily, from where I sit, Watching the drops of water fall and trees sway, With the wind blowing their branches and leaves falling, Instead of for rain, I pray for a sunny day, Listening to birds sing, Feeling the warmth of the sun, Not the coolness of the clouds in the sky, Then I can get something done, Outside, tidying up, I'll try, For now the streets are soaked with rain, buckets of the stuff have filled my flower pots, It has now become a pain, As sun too is needed for fruit,crops,trees and forget me nots, So now instead of a rain dance, I will wish for a sunny sky, As I watch the animals prance, From my window by and by, Yes, it's high time for some sun, I long for it's warmth on my face, and the summer fun, It's vibrant glow on this place, That not is wet and dull, The streets resemble a ghost town, Empty and the sounds are at a lull, No activity can be seen in this now sleepy town, The rain seems to have washed away the people as well, As watered the ground and soil, The air is heavy with a damp smell, Soon, men will toil, Under the hot sun's rays, On roofs,fields,streets, They will seem as if in a daze, While others complain of the heat, And wish that it would rain.

Do not stand at my grave and weep..

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In Memorium (to my mom)

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there, I did not die.

  by elizabeth frye,1932.

having a memorial service for her next week at nursing home in Catskill she died at.. Keep my family and her in your prayers. thanks.