Friday, January 14, 2022

WINTER WHAT WOULD YOU BE -Poetry


 


 

 

Winter, what would You be

Without skiing and sledding

Through the freshly fallen powder,

Sparkling, swirling around?

Winter, what would You be

Without hot chocolate and

Cozy fires?

Winter, what would You be

Without ice hikes and

Snowshoeing?

Winter, what would You be

Without Christmas and

All the brilliant lights and

Holiday cheer?

Winter, what would You be

Without snowball fights

And snowman creations?

Winter, what would You be

Without ice-skating on a frozen pond?

Winter, what would You be

Without fishing on a solid lake?

Winter, what would you be?

-I dar’st want to know.


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Winter What Would You Be

by Stephanie Daich




 


 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

RELATIONSHIP BLOOMING -Poetry





The joys of relationship blooming—

Men and women being stupid—but alive.

Making life worth living.

The once-dying now thrive.

The heart again giving…

-unaware of the heartbreak dooming.

The thrill of a new relationship beholding--

Passion overtaking—flowing.

Inside and out.

Seeds of hope sowing.

Love and trust do sprout…

-yet the breakdown already unfolding.

The change comes in, unbeknown-

Pain swaps out happiness-cheated.

Hurt, fear, and sadness.

The good feelings depleted.

The happy mind overtaken by madness…

The lover left alone.

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Relationship Blooming

by Stephanie Daich

FAST RODE THE TEEN -Poetry




With hope, strong and giving,

Ever waving a strong will

To stand on their own,

Fast rode the teen

And entered the social scene

Ready to find acceptance

To prove their own.

Fast rode the teen

Determined to conquer the world

Fighting, learning, and taking

To hold their own.

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Fast Rode the Teen

by Stephanie Daich

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

ALREADY DONE -Poetry







We think we are unique.
But it’s already been done.
We believe our feelings are single.
We suffer in silence.
We rejoice out loud.
We sin.
We follow unknown paths.
We delight in pleasure.
We shrink from responsibility.
We think we are unique.
But it’s already been done.

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Already Done
by Stephanie Daich




CREATIVE SIDE -Poetry

CREATIVE SIDE








When I open the creative side,
The neurons firing within,
Burning ideas like flames consuming
That’s when ideas begin.
And when I open myself to the genius
The humming of the brain in motion
Breaking out from the stagnant
My attention turning to devotion.
That’s when my dreams come alive,
As my hands and mind create.
Consumed by the processes,
The rest of my life forced to wait.

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Creative Side
by Stephanie Daich

SUMMER TURNED TO FALL

SUMMER TURNED TO FALL




Twas the first day of my summer,

As into adulthood, I rolled.

The magic of possibility around me

Shown bright, promising, and bold.

Of the shining, alluring, splendid

Of what my future could be

Shaking the shackles of youth,

For once in my life, truly free.

But what does a youth

Know of liberation?

What do they know of great joy?

How do they appreciate their new station?

And with folly and short understanding,

My summer quickly became fall.

Bound to a new contract

Foolishly, I traded it all.

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Summer Turned to Fall

by Stephanie Daich

THE CALL -Poetry

The Call







The call has planted its seed,

And with great fervor, embedded its plan.

Has been clearing out the cobwebs

And unthawing the frozen man.


Every roadblock must be cleared.

Woe, the obstacles overwhelm

And the weakest link must be fixed

To enter the new realm.


From doubts with powerful opposition

Chain the man to low expectations.

The stiffening hold of regression

Locks him in unfavorable stations.


He once had a will and a power.

Energy and joy was his daily song,

But somewhere in life, it diminished

While laziness guides him along.


He can be more than he became.

A warrior turned to sludge.

Out of the hole, he must climb

Releasing the innermost drudge.


Can the call be enough for the man,

The will to try something new?

A cleansing of the soul.

To his whole self, he must be true.


The call has buried its seed,

While hope waters the plan.

It takes discipline and great work,

To rebuild the dying man.


The refurbished man can be great,

Ignoring the desire to quit.

He must resculpt his ambitions

And be willing to commit.


The storms will beat this man,

Throwing hailstorms and rain.

He must ignore them all,

While for greatness, he does train.


The closer he gets to his goal,

The stronger his body will be.

A strength inside has built,

While the quitter inside him will flee.


The call has planted its seed,

And with great fervor, embedded its plan.

Has been clearing out the cobwebs

And unthawing the frozen man.

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The Call

By Stephanie Daich