Poems by Pat Fleming

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Sunny's Wish For Mom
- Published: August 7, 2024
The Loss Of A Pet And The Rescue Of Another

in Pet Friend Poems

The sun rose in her radiance
Above fields of green and gold.
She embraced Him with her subtle warmth
As in the morning glow, He strolled.

The sun rose in her radiance
Above fields of green and gold.
She embraced Him with her subtle warmth
As in the morning glow, He strolled.

He was always there to greet her
With His overflowing heart
And from the moment He created her
They had never been apart.

She smiled at Him brightly
And then proceeded with her work.
She must awaken all the Heavens
And those still asleep on earth.

But something seemed to catch God's eye
There among the marigolds
And then He lifted in His loving arms
An orange, furry little soul.

God so loved His precious pets
With their loyal, loving hearts
And He knew the sadness deeply felt
When it was time for them to part.

But then she saw God's smile fade,
So she opened up her worried ears
And she could hear this little fella
Shedding little kitty tears.

He was telling God the story
Of his sad, heartbroken Mom
Who couldn't seem to move ahead
And accept that he was gone.

Sunny was this kitty's name
And his concern was crystal clear.
His desperate need to help his Mom
Was sweet and so sincere.

Well God in His compassion
Kissed Sunny's head and held him tight.
He said I think I have a way
To make everything all right!

We will send another kitty
Who feels unwanted and alone
And has no one to love him
And no home to call his own.

And when your Mommy meets him
She'll feel that love that you had shared
And somehow deep inside her heart
She'll know for sure that you're still there

She'll know you always want the best for her
To be loved and to love once again.
And she'll finally know the love you shared
Will Never, Ever end.

Well Sunny licked God's soft, warm cheek
And bounded off with all his friends.
His heart just overflowed with joy
Knowing his Mom would be happy again.
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The Beauty Of A Summer Night
- Published: June 8, 2025
A Summer Evening Sitting On My Front Porch

in Summer Poems

As the sun starts to fade into twilight
and a peacefulness settles in,
even nature grows lazy and sleepy
as the hum of the crickets begin.

As the sun starts to fade into twilight
and a peacefulness settles in,
even nature grows lazy and sleepy
as the hum of the crickets begin.

I rock to a chill, mellow rhythm
that plays to the day’s memories.
I sit tranquil and cozy on my front porch
in my pj’s and fresh scrubbed bare feet.

In the distance I hear muffled voices
and see soft lights from the neighbor’s TVs.
The motionless heat still hangs heavy
as it subtlety lures me to sleep.

But the dance of the night is seductive
so, I struggle against my fatigue.
My eyes are reflecting the firefly’s glow
and the bats as they soar above me.

The stars want to be a part of the dance
as they wink and they shoot through the sky.
The moon wears a smile as it directs tonight’s show
From its vantage point up there on high.

The smell of the sweet honeysuckle and earth
slowly and gently floats by.
The night birds sing songs to their exuberant mates
and together they fly through the sky.

A breeze starts to stir through lush green leaves
and the trees start to sway in delight.
The light of the moon pales ‘neath swarming dark clouds
And the stars slowly vanish from sight.

An aroma of dampness surrounds me
as light raindrops begin to creep in.
They tease with cool splashes upon my hot skin
as a swift summer squall begins.

It’s growing quite late and my bed beckons me
and I feel myself slipping away.
I drift into dreams of bright waterfalls
to the sound of the soft, steady rain.

Time seems to be in a hurry.
Days rush by in the summer haze.
But I’ll never forget each fond memory
they’re tucked safely forever away.
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I can see it, feel it and hear it - you have created such a vivid picture. Thank you, Patricia, for yet another beautiful poem. Love and very best wishes, Ann.

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The True Warrior Inside
- Published: May 27, 2025
Looking Old And Being Ignored Because Of It.

in Aging Poems

You may not know how old she is
But I'm quite sure you'll recognize.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist
To see the ravages of time.

You may not know how old she is
But I'm quite sure you'll recognize.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist
To see the ravages of time.

You may take note of all the wrinkles
That now define her aged face
Or the dark spots on her fragile hands
That no lotion can erase.

You may not hear her creaking bones
Or know how badly her feet ache.
But you are privy to her chronic pain
In the slowness of her pace.

You may discover that her hearings poor
When you try to pass her by
And find she'll gladly move aside
If you ask her eye to eye.

And therein lies the tragedy
Of living well beyond your prime
Even if your heart is filled with love
And you still possess the sharpest mind.

All they see is time's cruel conquest
And the spoils of that fight
Not the hero of that battle
Who gave all she had for life.

Or the soul that still shines brightly
And has so much more to give.
Or that person 'neath the time-worn mask
Who only wants the chance to live.

Her smile's still quite lovely
And she'll share it willingly
Just to prove she's still a person
Who she longs for you to see.

She has her own opinions
And an accomplished view of life
And her mind is filled with knowledge
And valuable insights.

She still has a sense of humor
And loves to laugh until she cries
Her heart is open to everyone
And she has the kindest eyes.

She loves those songs of yesterday
And can still sing every word
And her sweetest memories linger there
Inside of every verse.

She is a complicated being
Who worked hard for all she earned
And has a lifetime of experience
From which we all can learn.

So, ignore that well-worn cover
That only serves to hide
A heart that's young and open
And the true warrior inside.
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Oh Pat, I just love your poetry. I am so damned old myself it's great to read a poem that sums up how I feel about my aged self. Keep writing! Love and very best wishes, Ann.

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Now What's Left Of Me
- Published: May 26, 2025
Deep Depression

in Depression Poems

I'm slipping back into that hole
And my hopes are wearing thin.
I try to take a different path
Still, I hear it beckoning.

I'm slipping back into that hole
And my hopes are wearing thin.
I try to take a different path
Still, I hear it beckoning.

I'm traveling on a rocky road.
I trip and fall on jagged stones.
I keep wandering in circles.
I can't find my way alone.

I could call out to the wilderness
And flaunt my tears and pain.
But my voice in all that silence
Makes me feel far too ashamed.

I could return to that familiar place
And jump inside that hole
And let it swallow me again
Body, heart and soul.

Deep inside that darkness
I can finally find some peace
And immersed in all that blackness
Perhaps I'll get some sleep.

There's no one there to judge me.
I feel safer by myself.
No pretentious words of cold advice
Of how I need to get some help.

Inside that cool obscurity
All that pressure fades away.
I escape the captious carping
Hidden in the words they say.

They may think it's all self-pity
Feeling shunned and on my own.
But they know nothing of my journey
And those battles fought alone.

And now that I've grown older
My sense of loss is more extreme.
I'm running out of precious time
To see the dawn of all my dreams.

But one thing that I wish the most
That now I fear will never be
Is to look into my mirror
And truly love the me I see.

So, it's best I linger in that hole
Where no one else can see.
The remains of all those battles lost
And what is left of me.
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Another great poem. I've had depression, but not quite as bad. However, it's great that you can write about it, as I'm sure it will connect with many people who know exactly what you are...

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Is This The Year To End All Years?
- Published: March 7, 2024
Life, The New Year And Death.

in Meaningful Poems

I watch the hands on the clock tick by
And I wonder where time goes.
Will this be the year to end all years?
Well, only God can know.

I watch the hands on the clock tick by
And I wonder where time goes.
Will this be the year to end all years?
Well, only God can know.

Inside each moment of my life,
Far back to childhood.
I see the fleetingness of time
And countless battles I withstood.

Old age has brought me memories
Of those times long tucked away,
And empowered me to see the past
In a much more loving way.

Those scenes of pain and suffering,
Those lonely, frightening times,
Are testimonials of the courage
That it took me to survive.

Those disappointments that I overcame,
All those loses that I faced,
Created my fortitude of heart
And became my catalysts for change.

Each mountain that I had to cross,
Each storm that I pushed through,
Each failure that I persevered,
Gave birth to something new.

Every heartache and betrayal,
Each attack that left me cold,
Gave me chances for forgiveness
And more sustenance of soul.

I cherished every touch and hug.
I'm so grateful for the laughter.
I thank God for every perfect day
And even those that were disasters.

I treasure every single face,
Of my family, loves and friends.
Both in person and in spirit
They travel with me till the end.

It's been both daunting and exciting
Becoming who I've grown to be.
It's been a constant work in progress
To be fully cognizant of me.

And now I can say without a doubt
That I've enjoyed this bumpy ride
And will just keep riding on and on
Until I've used up all my time.

When that will be, I cannot see.
Perhaps this is the year to end all years.
But in the meantime I will give my all
So this world knows I was here.
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Excellent poem, as always. Keep writing...
Very best wishes,
Ann

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It Could Not Be Me Anymore
- Published: March 7, 2024
Poem On The Pain Of Growing Old As A Woman

in Aging Poems

It could not be me he's thinking of
When he looks up at the soft moonlight.
And it can't be me that he's dreaming of
When he falls asleep at night.

It could not be me he's thinking of
When he looks up at the soft moonlight.
And it can't be me that he's dreaming of
When he falls asleep at night.

It could not be my face that caught his eye
In the midst of his busy day
Whose beauty left him hypnotized
And at a loss for what to say.

It could not be my smile that melted his heart
Or my laughter upon the breeze.
It would not be the curves of my body
That left him limp and weak in the knees.

It surely could not be my luminous eyes
Or the touch of my skin so smooth.
It would never be just the image of me
That could trigger his amorous mood.

You see I know it could never be me
To catch a man's eye these days.
In fact if I happen to pass one by
He just looks the other way.

My eyes are not as bright anymore.
They're sagging and much too thin.
Surely, they're not the kind of place
Any man could get lost in.

My body has not aged gracefully
And my curves are far too plump.
My boobs are falling down to the floor
Along with my flatter rump.

Most often I feel invisible.
I blend into the scenery.
I'm far too old to "strut my stuff"
To get Prince Charming to notice me.

Right now feeling wanted and desired,
To be the woman of his dreams,
Is now nothing more in the scheme of my life
Than a thrilling and sweet memory.

Yes, those days of romance and passion
Have sadly passed me by
And now I just feel grateful each day
For the man growing old by my side.
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Another brilliant poem - I love the way you write - keep them coming, please.

Very best wishes, Ann

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The Day We Went Sledding
- Published: January 28, 2024
A Childhood, Winter Memory

in Snow Poems

We awakened to the whitest light
Seeping through the blinds.
We leapt from bed and to the windows
To take a probing peek outside.

We awakened to the whitest light
Seeping through the blinds.
We leapt from bed and to the windows
To take a probing peek outside.

Mounds of frigid, fluffy cotton
Stretched out as far as we could see.
The snow had fallen all night long
While we lay fast asleep.

With shrieks of pure excitement
We bundled in our warmest clothes.
We couldn't waste a minute more
For our adventures in the snow.

Bounding to the basement
Behind the boxes and the stairs,
Stood our Flying Arrow Sled
Long waiting for us there.

Out the door in just a flash,
We knew just where to go.
The place where all the kids would meet
To go sledding in the snow.

Down the street and to the pond
Where all the skaters skated.
Beside the river filled with ice
The steepest hill of all awaited.

Huffing, puffing to the top
With our sleds in tow.
Sitting with our feet to steer.
One, two three and off we'd go!

Swiftly tilting left and right,
Our faces sprayed with ice.
Flying over every bump
With delighted shouts and cries.

To the bottom with such rapid force
We'd fall laughing in the snow.
Then without the slightest hesitation
Back up the hill we all would go.

Up and down for hours long
Making memories with our friends.
Moments fading with the winter sun
A day we wished would never end.

Then tired, sore and hungry
Soaked right down to the bone.
We'd gather up our trusty sleds
And in the twilight, drag them home.

And even as the darkness fell
The snow lit up the streets.
And we'd lie within that cozy glow
Until we drifted off to sleep.

Then memories of our perfect day
With friends and snow and sleds
Would replay over in our dreams
And cuddle with us in our beds.
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Your poem is so beautifully written and contains such vivid images! It takes me right back to my childhood. I can almost feel the ice crystals hitting my face!

Best wishes,
Virginia

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This Journey Of Mine
- Published: August 7, 2024
Growing Old And Living My Life

in Aging Poems

I wake up each day
On this journey of mine,
Grabbing each moment
Of my limited time.

I wake up each day
On this journey of mine,
Grabbing each moment
Of my limited time.

I don't try to hurry.
It isn't a race.
There's still much to do
In this vast, vibrant place.

But the road's been so rocky,
The rain damp and cold.
I can't cover much ground
When I'm feeling so old.

People dash by me
As if I'm not there.
In a hurry to no place,
In haste to nowhere.

My feet start to hurt.
Now I must stop and rest.
I feel my heart beating
So fast in my chest.

But I need to catch up
Or they'll leave me behind,
If my body gives out
Or I misplace my mind.

They don't seem to see
They're just chasing their ends
And each moment slighted
Will not come again.

The sun's finally shining.
The birds are in tune.
The Summer to Autumn
Will pass away soon.

Most days that I travel
I'm all on my own,
Just revisiting places
And people I've known.

Days may pass by,
I don't utter a word
My memories grow distant
My life's purpose more blurred.

Some gloomier days
I don't get out of bed,
But search for my epiphanies
In my sweet dreams instead.

But alas I keep going,
I just tarry along.
I tell all my stories
And sing some old songs

I still share my smile
When I think there's a need,
Be a friend and a confidante
To anyone who wants me.

Still I wake up each day
On this journey of mine
And I thank God for the gift
Of a little more time.

Some days are better
While Some days are worse
But there's still much to see
And new roads to traverse.
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Miss Fleming: I was looking at a poem I wrote, SWEET THINGS FOR YOUR EAR, and I saw you left me a wonderful review. We seem to have the same outlook on life. I look back on my life a lot. I...

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My Early Morning Visit
- Published: May 2022
A Visit To A Cemetery

in In Memory Poems

I took a walk this morning
Just as the sun began to rise,
And the inky clouds encompassed her
And cluttered up the skies.

I took a walk this morning
Just as the sun began to rise,
And the inky clouds encompassed her
And cluttered up the skies.

In the gloom I stood among
Those worn and weathered stones.
Stretched out upon the greenest grass
Each standing quite alone.

A morning bird was singing
Such a sweet and mournful song,
A tribute to those dearest souls
Who long ago moved on.

Ancient trees stood towering
Like loyal sentries standing guard,
Witnesses to all those laid to rest
And those surviving broken hearts.

The respectful silence floated
On a chilly morning breeze,
And the peacefulness embraced me
Like a blanket warming me.

Outside the gates, life carried on,
A siren pierced the hallowed air.
I thought perhaps another soul
Would soon be buried there.

I strolled around quite aimlessly
Entranced by all those words in stone,
And I realized that behind those words
Each had a story of their own.

I was glad I came to visit them
On this dark and dreary day,
And shared my story with them too
As I wandered on my way.

And as I reached the gates to leave,
Rain fell lightly from the sky,
And I swear I heard the softest voice
Bidding me a sweet good-bye.
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Dear Aaron,
Your comment is so touching. I wish you could share the melody with me. I'm just so happy that you can hear that melody and have paid such a beautiful tribute to my words by...

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I Long For My Escape
- Published: June 2022
Poem About Domestic Violence

in Abuse Poems

Lately when I wake each day,
The sunlight hurts my eyes,
And when I think of yesterday,
I want to just curl up and cry.

Lately when I wake each day,
The sunlight hurts my eyes,
And when I think of yesterday,
I want to just curl up and cry.

It seems that life is getting harder,
My sense of loneliness extreme,
My sadness more disabling,
And the abuse now more routine.

I've discovered a reality
That has consumed my very life,
Which is sometimes even breathing
Can become a constant fight.

There are moments so exhausting
From the internal, chronic pain,
That death itself seems like a blessing
Because living life's become my bane.

I thought that age would garner needed peace,
A final freedom for my soul.
But instead, the chaos and the conflict
Have grown worse as I've grown old.

It seems that some of those bad choices
That I made along the way
Remain with me just like my shadow
And will chase me to my grave.

It only takes one other person
To change your life into a hell
And make your home a ceaseless battlefield
Rather than the haven where you dwell.

My compassion and my tolerance
Proved my most pathetic traits.
They were my vices hiding in disguise
That led me to my wretched fate.

I believed in love and people changing.
I overestimated my own skills.
I thought that I could transform anyone
Through my sheer intellect and will.

Now it's far too late for changes now
The Monster's reached his grandest scale
And compared to him in all his glory,
My aged strength and weapons pale.

But I discovered an advantage,
Which I hope to master soon.
Providing that this nightmare
Doesn't render me a hopeless loon.

I now accept my dreary prison,
And I accept there's no escape.
I accept that through this misery
My heart and soul I may forsake.

I have discovered that one's death can come
Even when their heart is beating
And that instead of fighting back sometimes
The wiser move is in retreating.

I will stay silent and invisible.
I won't challenge or debate.
I'll play possum for my enemy
And perhaps I will stay safe.

At last, my fate will rest with God above
And my perdition will be done
Whether the Monster meets his just defeat
Or my own eternal rest will come.
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