by Cheryl Merrick
Young, I stepped away from the security
of my family’s small road.
Taking a path yet untried.
I ventured out, full of fear and excitement
on my path to college.
Meeting the right young man,
we announced the formation of a new road,
And so a small family began
becoming larger with the addition of each child.
Hurrying to appointments and programs,
Our family speeds along.
I feel a sense of fulfillment in constantly being needed,
and thrive on motherhood,
a road which never seems to end.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Mortality
by Cheryl Merrick
It seemed so far away,
so distant as to be unreal.
Yes, I had known grieving
for those no longer here,
But dying was something
only for the very old–
certainly not me!
Stunned, I realize that my grandparents
were my age, my dad,
and my husband's mother
were only a few years older
when they passed on.
Persistently my body is telling me
with each ache and pain
that it is becoming tired.
As I stiffen up after sitting a few minutes,
tire quickly, and sleep lightly,
I am reminded to cherish
these fleeting moments
of mortality.
It seemed so far away,
so distant as to be unreal.
Yes, I had known grieving
for those no longer here,
But dying was something
only for the very old–
certainly not me!
Stunned, I realize that my grandparents
were my age, my dad,
and my husband's mother
were only a few years older
when they passed on.
Persistently my body is telling me
with each ache and pain
that it is becoming tired.
As I stiffen up after sitting a few minutes,
tire quickly, and sleep lightly,
I am reminded to cherish
these fleeting moments
of mortality.
In Between
by Cheryl Merrick
I’m at that in between age.
Though being a teen
is something I’ve not recently seen,
I am in between.
My children have grown,
and nearly all flown.
But married they’re not,
and grandchildren I haven’t got.
So till then,
I stay in between.
I’m at that in between age.
Though being a teen
is something I’ve not recently seen,
I am in between.
My children have grown,
and nearly all flown.
But married they’re not,
and grandchildren I haven’t got.
So till then,
I stay in between.
Free
by Cheryl Merrick
The days of struggling to keep my house clean and orderly
are gone,
along with our four children.
The days of vacuuming, shampooing, and polishing
are gone,
along with the carpets, chrome, and a lot of the furniture.
The days of mounting pictures and making scrapbooks
are gone,
our memories instantly stored on the computer.
Holiday baking, shopping, and wrapping
have given way to nuts, gift cards, and sacks.
The days of struggling to keep my house clean and orderly
are gone,
along with our four children.
The days of vacuuming, shampooing, and polishing
are gone,
along with the carpets, chrome, and a lot of the furniture.
The days of mounting pictures and making scrapbooks
are gone,
our memories instantly stored on the computer.
Holiday baking, shopping, and wrapping
have given way to nuts, gift cards, and sacks.
Content
by Cheryl Merrick
I look at this woman,
noting the many changes
the years have brought.
She has lost her chin,
but gained several bulges.
Her hair is naturally “frosted”.
Her face carefully etched
with a record of her joys and sorrows.
No longer frustrated
by forgetting something,
but joyful in remembering anything,
she passes through her day.
No longer traumatized
by a small facial blemish,
I look at this woman,
noting the many changes
the years have brought.
She has lost her chin,
but gained several bulges.
Her hair is naturally “frosted”.
Her face carefully etched
with a record of her joys and sorrows.
No longer frustrated
by forgetting something,
but joyful in remembering anything,
she passes through her day.
No longer traumatized
by a small facial blemish,
Aging to Perfection
by Cheryl Merrick
Line by line,
injury and age,
experience and sorrow,
slowly the false pride of youth
is striped away
leaving, painfully bare,
the spirit,
now prepared
to be perfected.
Line by line,
injury and age,
experience and sorrow,
slowly the false pride of youth
is striped away
leaving, painfully bare,
the spirit,
now prepared
to be perfected.
Advantages of Turing 50
by Cheryl Merrick
My hair is naturally “frosted”.
I have a wardrobe that would make
any expecting 20 year old envious.
My teeth match my cream sweater.
The purple lines add interest to my legs.
You can play connect the dots on the back of my hands
and for higher math practice,
try counting the lines on my face.
My hair is naturally “frosted”.
I have a wardrobe that would make
any expecting 20 year old envious.
My teeth match my cream sweater.
The purple lines add interest to my legs.
You can play connect the dots on the back of my hands
and for higher math practice,
try counting the lines on my face.
Adjustment
by Cheryl Merrick
He is home now.
I have waited so long
for us to spend time together.
Soon he may be gone,
involved again
in a big construction project
which excludes me.
I am cherishing these days
spent in planning together.
I feel a part of his life -
included – a partner.
He is home now.
I have waited so long
for us to spend time together.
Soon he may be gone,
involved again
in a big construction project
which excludes me.
I am cherishing these days
spent in planning together.
I feel a part of his life -
included – a partner.
A Woman's Afternoon
by Cheryl Merrick
The frantic, morning pace has ended.
She gazes proudly at the vigorous growth in her children’s gardens,
established and on their own now,
no longer needing her constant attention,
The satisfaction becomes a growing discontent
as she realizes,
the intense dependency is over.
She, the nurturer of gardeners,
finds that waiting only to give advice
not enough to fill her afternoon.
And so, time stretches out in barren, emptiness.
A quiet, piercing voice commands,
“Look to your own garden.”
The frantic, morning pace has ended.
She gazes proudly at the vigorous growth in her children’s gardens,
established and on their own now,
no longer needing her constant attention,
The satisfaction becomes a growing discontent
as she realizes,
the intense dependency is over.
She, the nurturer of gardeners,
finds that waiting only to give advice
not enough to fill her afternoon.
And so, time stretches out in barren, emptiness.
A quiet, piercing voice commands,
“Look to your own garden.”
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
First Snow
by Cheryl Merrick
Gazing out at the cool, gray morning,
I am startled to see snowflakes
drifting down.
Unwilling to give up my autumn strolls
by the river,
I stare at the silent falling snow;
Til mesmerized by the delicate beauty,
My mind fills, flake by flake,
with Christmas memories.
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