Much of what we hear

Is easily forgotten

But every now and then

A brilliant thought

Precious as a diamond

Is given to us—

To remain forever, unforgettable.

                ………. 

 I wonder if when we go from this life

The memory of it will remain,

Or fade, as quickly as a dream does

Upon awakening?  

 © Patricia Lamont

One’s mind moves like restless waves of ocean

Surging up and down on foreign shore

Sifting, shifting, swirls in constant motion

Leaping forward, falling back once more.

Washed in froth – white-crested emotion

Till sand gives way to rock, secure and sure.

Then, turns the questing tide to calm devotion

And rests, in placid waters, centred as before.

© Patricia Lamont

We learn about life

From birds, nesting in tree tops,

And the song of the wind

As it plays through the leaves.

We watch all the changes

From season to season

That enrich and  colour our days.

We learn from the programs

Of myriad creatures

Crawling or flying,

Coloured or plain,

From fish as they spawn

Or bees as they swarm

All telling it simply…

The Story of  Life.

© Patricia Lamont

The passing years are marked by some event

“The year we bought the farm…” – how it was spent

Twelve months of special friendships quickly went,

A summer’s camping trips, the cookout and the tent.

One year, unhappy time when someone died,

Or when a pet was buried – on the sunny side,

A snowy Hallowe’en, new birthday sled to ride,

And too, the year of Graduation’s pride.

Remember that Spring in early flower?

Warmly lit by sun, and blossom shower

Suddenly destroyed by flood in one short hour,

That year we call the one of WaterPower?

How about the year we fell in love?

Dancing and dreaming with full Moon above,

The wedding feast, with cake topped by white dove

Something blue and something new – a borrowed glove.

Later came the year of Baby’s birth,

Of course – the most marvelous kid on Earth!

Some years were uneventful, quite a dearth

Perhaps no money, ill health, and little mirth.

Years that brought rewards we may remember best

From great achievements, or hard times of test

Recall the special years our lives impressed

Choose to honour them – and forget the rest.

© Patricia Lamont

I’m keeping the morning quiet

Behind unopened windows and doors…

Hear the plaint call of the curlews

And meadow-larks, out on the moors.

I shall keep the house shaded and silent,

No loud noises or shrieks of T.V.

There won’t be the clatter of footsteps

With just Cotton, the Persian, and me.

It’s Sunday, so no need to hurry

I can quietly sit here and read

Or stare – or think – or do nothing

And eat or drink more than I need…

What a wonderful feeling of leisure,

I don’t even have to wear clothes:

I’m as free as the birds in the pasture

To fly where I will, in repose.

I don’t want to disturb this bright morning

And ruffle supreme relaxation,

The phone’s off the hook, I won’t call out –

Then nothing can spoil my vacation!

© Patricia Lamont

When somebody makes you feel special

With a look, a word or a flower

How often do they realize

They’ve released a tremendous power?

The love, or just simple compassion,

Simply shown, through a smile or a touch

Seldom reveals to the giver

That their small act has meant so much.

Those happy hearts made to feel special

Almost always return love—and yet

Nothing and no-one, in no way

Can fully repay such a debt.

© Patricia Lamont

Softly secreted

skin oils

warm pliancy

bloom of Youth

its companions self-

doubt, anger, jealousy,

rage, ambition,

disappointment, the

quest for Love…

Menopause and crepe

paper skin, a sea

of dryness and angst,

storm clouds

questioning meaning

tides changing, transition

then serenity and self esteem.

 © Patricia Lamont

My days are programmed

By my watch.

Strapped to my wrist

It schedules my life,

Regulating my desires

Meting out time-slots

Promoting meals and sleep,

Depleting my years

With ruthless precision

Until, in full rebellion:

I take it off!

Then I am free –

At least for a while

To hold each moment gratefully

As long as I wish,

Or spend it carelessly,

In living joyously!

© Patricia Lamont

Poets see with different eyes

Condensing space and time

They vision future eras

Prophesy in rhyme.

Tuning in to inner ear

sounds near, an far away

Messages of joy, or warning

Picked up every day.

Poets walk a rock-strewn path

Beset by conscience’s call.

Seeming born before their time

Badgered by re-call,

When they say they must reveal

How things are, or will be

Give them hearing, grant them grace

Listen to their plea!

Honest poets in the past

Suffered cruel tortures,

Sometimes died – attesting truth

Of evil ventures.

Ponder on the words they wrote

Of future, in times past,

Then truth, like science fiction

Will prove itself, at last!

© Patricia Lamont

Snow is lacing the mountaintops

Summer has dwindled away –

Fall went by in a sunny haze,

It’s Christmas a month from today!

Leaves are all shaken off now,

Trees seem to be half asleep –

Ice has frosted the windows

As ice-trails get longer and deep.

The feeling is festive already

Cakes are baked, so is mince pie

Cards and gift lists are started

We’ll soon bid this good year goodbye!

Summer was hot and delightful

All nature made a great show

Swimming was grand, so was camping,

But now we have fog, ice and snow.

Winter is still a good season

In which to read or go slow;

Candle light, soups, and new hobbies

Long evenings in firelight’s glow…

© Patricia Lamont