Perspective of a Yamaha Guitar

On November 11, 2025 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry108 Comments

I wish the long haul
would’ve been in your heart.
My strings and your fingers
would’ve collaborated well, I could tell.
You learned the chords, major and minor,
your strumming had improved,
and your voice, smooth as honey.
I had faith in you.

Then another passion stole your hours…
writing, and I understand,
I really do. And yet, it’s just me
sitting in this corner of the room.
Most of the time, I don’t mind.
It can feel cozy and warm
when the sun rises high in the sky,
bringing light. But after sunset,
darkness creeps in,
giving me chills of loneliness.

Now and then, you dust me off
and that’s when I feel joy
in my body and fretboard –
the soft touch of a cloth,
so comforting.
I feel hope in each string
that you’ll gently pull me out
of my black case
and hold me in your arms…

to hear a verse, bridge, or melody,
to immerse our souls
into the notes that hold meaning…

but you simply wipe away the particles
that have landed
and walk out, leaving me
to ponder the mysteries
of humans. A painful task, I might add.

Hope never fades though
because I know songs
have always been a part of you,
so you’ll see, someday, you and me,
and music makes three.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Have a wonderful day, and thanks for stopping by! ❤️🎼
© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com

***Click on my son’s image to order your copy!*** 🧡

Lauren Scott
Author – King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry
Author – Cora’s Quest (a children’s book)
Author – Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poetry
Author – More than Coffee: Memories of Verse and Prose
Author – Finding a Balance: A Collection of Poetry
Author – New Day, New Dreams: A Collection of Poetry
Co-Author – Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku
Co-Author – Petals of Haiku: An Anthology
Co-Author – This Is How We Grow
Co-Author – Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships
Bi-Monthly Contributor on Gobblers by Masticadores
Spillwords Author of the Month May 2023
Spillwords Publication of the Month October 2024
Spillwords Publication of the Month June 2025

The Old Pink Restaurant

On September 17, 2025September 21, 2025 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry79 Comments

***Photo by Maria Tyutina on Pexels.com***

I feel old and withered
like a dying rock rose.
Cracks propagate
down my stucco exterior
like fault lines in the earth.
Does an outburst lie on the horizon?

I remember when vibrant pink,
like a fuchsia feather boa,
would invite strangers in –
strangers who became friends.

My mood has a mind of its own.
When the sky opens,
tears stream down my windows,
tattooing me with streaks of dirt.

I’ve been abandoned for years –
no one seems to want me.
My door – faded and rotted,
hanging like a dead tree branch,
wouldn’t welcome a rat.
Do you know what it feels like
to be all alone? To feel worthless?

There was a time
when chatter and laughter
filled me to the brim,
bounced off the walls
into Margarita merry,
chips and salsa celebrations.

Now, I sit on the corner
like a human without a home.

My sign reads:

Will I ever feel alive again?
Will I ever feel life again?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We drove by an old restaurant that we miss where the building has remained vacant.
So, I became inspired to write a personification poem.

Thanks so much for stopping by, and I wish you a wonderful Wednesday. 💝

***Click on my daughter’s image to order your copy!*** 🧡

Lauren Scott

Author – King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry
Author – Cora’s Quest (a children’s book)
Author – Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poetry
Author – More than Coffee: Memories of Verse and Prose
Author – Finding a Balance: A Collection of Poetry
Author – New Day, New Dreams: A Collection of Poetry
Co-Author – Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku
Co-Author – Petals of Haiku: An Anthology
Co-Author – This Is How We Grow
Co-Author – Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships
Bi-Monthly Contributor on Gobblers by Masticadores
Spillwords Author of the Month May 2023
Spillwords Publication of the Month October 2024
Spillwords Publication of the Month June 2025

Anticipating Ms. Autumn

On September 1, 2024September 2, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry, Prose, Recordings89 Comments

Happy September! I welcome the new season upon us in a few weeks with wide open arms! This summer has been stressful, and much too hot for too many consecutive days. So, cooler temps, come our way!
And on that note, Ms. Autumn has something to say…

I am not bashful. In fact, I tell it like it is, and I am thrilled that my cue for moving into your lives is coming up around the corner! In quiet moments, I reminisce on the good times when you express your oohs and aahs as I make my entrance. How I gracefully arrive donning pomegranate reds, cinnamon browns, and citrine yellows. Energy buzzes like a walk on the red carpet – a highly anticipated moment, so I have heard.

My sweet fragrance beautifies a stroll around the neighborhood. My cool touch refreshes, replacing summer’s harsh existence. And I am aware that Mr. Summer’s mood this year has been exceptionally unsympathetic toward you, my humans whom I adore!

Now regarding my work, I labor with patience and diligence – brush in hand and paint by my side to create a vibrant landscape. Lovely memories as vivid as the colors of my wardrobe…
memories of yesteryear before Mr. Raging Fire barged in, disrupting the balance of the nature of seasons.

Now, each year, a sense of dread crushes that sought-after anticipation of my arrival. And yet, defeat has not prevailed. This new reality only advises that my effort must toughen up…paint and brush lie in wait at my fingertips. The artist deep within will continue to create for you who appreciate the very essence of me.

❤️💜💙🩵🧡

The Blue Down Jacket

On March 15, 2023 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry, Prose85 Comments

The radio belted out “Joy to the World!”
You were a teenage boy, but on this
Christmas morning in ‘75, excitement
buzzed! Your dad watched and listened,
relaxed in his corner chair, but your mom
played Santa, just as jolly! The first time
we met. Do you remember?

You and your dad hiked Half Dome that year,
then…the many trips we booked…
those rocky inclines had my sleeves shaking!
Hiking to Italy Pass, 12,000 feet at the top!
We did it! Trekking through the Trinity Alps,
Thousand Island Lake in the Sierra.
And Mount Shasta!
I kept you warm when the air was ice.

What a team we made, and I couldn’t believe
how beautiful the world could be…

Then with the years your adolescence faded like
my blue dye, but I stayed loyal. Why wouldn’t I?
You are my brother, even still, all grown up
with a family of your own.

Lucky is what I feel because ages ago, I thought
I’d be buried beneath piles of clothes at the bottom
of a bag to be given away.
But mostly, I feel privileged for my significance.
I recall her vividly.
She left this world too young, too soon.

You see, when we hang out,
your memories transport you
to that morning when her laughter was music,
her smile was sunlight,
her energy as vibrant as “Joy to the World.”
You travel to the special place in your mind
when your mom was still in your life.