Poem: The Sun

Hullo, friends! My schedule has been a little off the past couple of weeks, but I’m back again today with your regularly scheduled Tuesday post! If you missed it, around a week ago I posted about Twinepathy‘s birthday and the cover reveal sign-ups for IDIA #3, so if you’re interested in participating in that, definitely check out that post (or just fill out the form here). Today’s poem is more of a sad one–another one that I wrote for class. Hope you enjoy! (Also, there’s an important question at the end of this post, so make sure and comment your thoughts!)

 

The Sun 

C.B. Cook

 

The sun rose that morning,

a day like any other,

but it didn’t rise for her.

 

She poured her coffee in the kitchen.

Warm golden light enveloped her,

but she moved to the bedroom,

shunning the warmth.

 

The bedroom was dark,

lonely.

She embraced it because

it matched the heavy,

shadowy grief

weighing on her soul.

 

She flipped a switch

and the light buzzed overhead.

There was his bed,

his desk,

the stack of video games

his father had given him

instead of visiting.

She traced the squares of the quilt on the bed,

finally letting the tears fall.

 

The sun rose that morning,

but her son didn’t rise with it.

 

What did you think of that poem? And for the important question I mentioned earlier: if I put out a poetry collection, would you be interested in reading it? Comment below with your thoughts!

Poem: Falling

Hello, friends! Look who’s sticking to their schedule (so far)! Today I thought I’d share another poem that I wrote in my poetry class. Sometimes we had prompts, sometimes we didn’t, but the prompt for this poem was “death.” I had written a sad poem the week before, so I though I would add a twist to the end of this one. Just a note, this was written in February or March of this year. Hope you enjoy!

 

Falling

C.B. Cook

 

His best friend was dying.

 

He’d seen it happen to others.

Her skin turned a sickly shade,

her skin was too dry

and even though she denied it,

he could tell

she was barely hanging on.

 

Then it happened.

Falling,

sinking,

she shrunk away,

dropping to rest under their tree.

 

If he could cry, he would.

He felt himself beginning to fade, too,

and found it harder to hold on.

He longed

to join her

in the earth

below.

 

But,

as he watched,

a toddler with a bright red cap

picked his best friend off the ground

and proclaimed,

“My leaf!”

 

What did you think of that poem? Do you like poetry? Comment down below and let me know what you think!

*cough cough* Whoops…

No, I didn’t get frozen in ice.

Sorry.

*laughs at self*

Yes, it’s been a while since I posted. Thanks to my computer shutting down while updating, I have been stranded from the internet for… I’m not sure how long it’s been. Since the last time I posted. 😉

So, that is my apology. And a joke (because jokes always make things better…)

A computer operator received this error message:

THREE THINGS IN LIFE ARE GUARANTEED: TAXES, DEATH, AND COMPUTER CRASHES

GUESS WHICH ONE JUST HAPPNED.

The Answer

“Please wake up, Betsy,” Alice whispered.

Alice gripped her sister’s hand as she listened to the heart monitor beep. She hadn’t slept in days while her sister was in the hospital, and her face was pale and drawn. Her sister’s white face looked so small on the pillow. Alice bowed her head in silent prayer.

“God, please, heal my sister,” she pleaded silently. “I need her so much. My parents told me when I was young that you listen to every prayer, and that you’ll answer. I know I haven’t been the most faithful,” she gulped back tears, “but I need you to heal Betsy.” Alice laid her head on the hospital bed, struggling to hold back tears. She drifted off to sleep, not noticing when the heart monitor’s beeping slowed and then, finally, stopped.

“Miss Alice?” a nurse asked softly, gently shaking Alice awake. Alice sat up, struggling to hold back a yawn. She looked down at her sister’s still figure. The hand she was still grasping was icy cold.

“I’m sorry, Miss Alice,” the nurse whispered sympathetically. “She-she died only a few minutes ago.

Later that day, Alice dragged her feet in through the autumn leaves that had fallen and covered the sidewalk. She looked up at the gray cloud-covered sky. A single raindrop fell and landed on the end of her nose. She wiped it away harshly.

“God, why didn’t you answer me? I asked you to heal Betsy, but you didn’t,” she whispered angrily.

A voice deep inside her soul whispered to her. I did answer. But I have something better in mind for both of you. Just trust Me.