The Giver

He pulls me
into myself so
I may see
qualities
he loved from the beginning


though his perception
runs deeper –
mine, a trace of clouds,
then he lifts
my heart and
soul to the starlit sky where
our dreams become us.

© Lauren Scott – baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.
The painting credit
: Yours truly.

Thank you always for stopping by.
~Lauren ❤️

The World is Broken

The world is broken,

            we are aware,

                        but being alive on this crisp autumn morning,

what a blessing

                        to behold

and he says,

“The good news

for today is

I love you,

Your heart,

Your mind,

Your soul.”

The world may be broken,

                                    but I am not.

© Lauren Scott, baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved
Photo: one of our sunrises

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For inspiration to notice surrounding beauty, to feel gratitude, to face challenges and fears while sipping your favorite coffee roast or a beverage of your choice, check out my latest book: More than Coffee.

His name was Ed

Ed
blackened heart
domineering thumb
nowhere to breathe, trying times
~ etched ~

Green
a monster
too old to believe?
his existence, living proof
~ ire ~

Me
raised to love
but heart feels deeply
ill-fitted antipathy
~ blunt ~

Health
declines, death,
emotions bland as
salt-free diet, tears restrained
~ guilt ~

Lauren Scott ©
Oddquain poetry form

This post is darker than most of mine, but life isn’t always rosy, so writing about those difficult times when we question our feelings can be therapeutic. Have you found yourself in a similar situation?

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For inspiration to notice surrounding beauty, to feel gratitude, to face challenges and fears while sipping your favorite coffee roast or another beverage of your choice, check out my latest book: More than Coffee.

The Fine Points

Since the beginning of you and I,
we have bought thirty-three calendars.
I know you like your coffee beige
and that cereal is your feast on 
weekday mornings, but on weekends,
you’ll skillfully whip up an omelet.
I’ve never mastered the egg flip.
I know which of your shirts have hung 
around for the long haul and if you could
backpack every day, you would. If you
had a choice: flip flops or hiking boots,
the boots would win by a broad margin.
I know our children have the best dad.
You think you’re lucky finding me,
but I am the lucky one…
to wake up each morning with your
pillow beside mine, to witness the sun’s
first peek through the window, to vie
for blankets on a January night.
We are ears and rocks for each other,
having mastered the flavors and textures, 
while learning each other’s landscape.
But the depth of our devotion 
has not reached its full potential. 
There is more closeness to discover 
in spaces yet to be revealed.
I feel like a grand prize winner
in this thing called life 
where do-overs aren’t magically offered.
You and I became an Us, 
and as more lines come into light, 
as more grays persist, 
even if feet shuffle and bones ache, 
there will be more calendars to hang. 

Lauren Scott ©

This poem is one of four that I contributed
to the anthology, Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships.
A beautiful collection of poetry
where twelve poets reveal their
most personal moments,
compiled by Kaye Lynne Booth
and Robbie Cheadle.

To purchase your copy, here is the link: https://books2read.com/u/3kP8aK.
Also available in paperback on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/mry57jdu.

Thank you for stopping by,
Lauren Scott ❤️

Tender Reminiscence

Remember in our younger years
how you’d touch your lips to mine
while standing on the step
when we cold-shouldered time?
No letting-go desire of the
embrace that held us near
No care in the world was matched
in that moment that we shared
Who knew those doorstep kisses
would carry us this distance?
(floating in a state-of-mind
of tender reminiscence)

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
Do you have memories
of doorstep kisses?

The Mess

During the visit,
there’s something about
the clothes strewn on the floor
soon to be dumped in the washer,
wallet lying on the dresser,
cell plugged in,
bed comforter in shambles

because the messiness
means he’s home.

Now with air miles accumulated
back in the familiar time zone,
his room shines, neatness
grating on my nerves,
silence like receiving
the cold shoulder.

My hand pulls back the comforter,
tousling, creating wrinkles and lumps
in the navy fabric as though rumpled
from a restful night’s sleep,
then I pull some old shirts from the
closet, tossing them on the floor
just so I can pretend the good-byes
hadn’t found freedom.

Lauren Scott (c)

The Sweetness in Life

If we listed in longhand the number of sweet things in life, our lists would be never-ending. We’d write constantly, the pen would never get a rest, the amount of paper we’d need would be extensive, and our hand would begin to scream from exhaustion. Well, I haven’t been writing forever, and you know I’m typing this post, but here are a few sweet things that come to mind, and I hope we never take our lists for granted…
Swimming in a sparkling lake that soothes the body from scorching heat and sweat of the day, reading a book you can’t put down – a real page-turner that interrupts chores, walking beneath a cerulean sky, hiking on a mountain top hearing birds practicing their choral selection sitting high in the tall trees and those sky-scraping trees shading your path, listening to the joyful giggles of children, observing in awe a star-filled night, touching soft, tiny feet of a baby who smiles back at you, witnessing your children’s triumphs, knowing someone gets you, that first fall into love, whispers of a warm, summer breeze, viewing graceful butterflies in flight, new vivid blooms in springtime, unexpected acts of kindness, answered prayers, writing down those thoughts, a hummingbird flitting about, melodies that comfort the heart and mind, and melodies that get you on your feet and make you wanna dance, a creamy chocolate indulgence, and a tender, slow kiss on the lips…truly the icing on the cake.

Lauren Scott (c) ❤️
My son made this carrot cake, my favorite dessert of all,
and believe me, it was divine!
Carrot cake is also the topic of a fun
and sentimental story
in my book, More than Coffee.

In Technicolor

A time so long ago,
yet the memory
in technicolor…
I want to rip the page
from my mind’s
photo album,
because my heart
was foolish
to fall for that man,
our skies different
our dreams astray,
but the heart’s pulse
beats to a tune
of its own choosing,
never inspired
by logic,
nor will it ever be
shatterproof.
But this man wasn’t
a cockroach.
I never wished
to stomp on him,
like others
who preceded.
And so, I’m grateful,
for without that page
I wouldn’t have
stumbled
upon the path
that led me
to my love at last.

Lauren Scott (c)

If only…

Hearts can shatter if beaten down.
Souls can be crushed if pounded.
Judging others isn’t a right.
People should be allowed to live
the life they were intended.
Why is violence the solution
for those who loathe

a culture or religion?
Special nuances making up
each of us are nobody’s business.
Differences afford knowledge.
Opening our hearts and minds,
what a beautiful world…If only.
How drab the vision
outside our windows would look

if we were identical in every minute
aspect of our inner and outer selves.
Your world, My world,
would turn colorless.
Respecting and accepting:
unoriginal, but words repeated
again and again
until the narratives and visuals
transform.
No one deserves to live
beneath a cloud of pretense
in youth or adulthood.
We all should have the freedom
to live within the arms of truth.
I can only imagine how invisible scars
can create hell for the heart.
Love should be universal throughout
and shouldn’t acquiesce temper.
Love should remain the center
of everyone.
But has kindness and compassion
been shoved under the bus?
Injustice equals disgust.

Lauren Scott (c)