Poems by Pat Fleming

Helping even when you're weary
Understanding other's pain
Managing to let hurt go
And forgiving once again
Never losing faith or hope
In the good of humankind
Trusting man's intelligence while
Yielding to the heart inside

In the damp, dusty cellar, surrounded by boxes,
Our excitement just grows without measure.
Searching and sorting with loud shouts of glee,
As we uncovered the grand Christmas treasure.

Christmas lights in a ball, but Dad's not deterred,
As with a purpose, he heads out the door.
And I spy from the window, for the time has now come,
For Dad to adorn our front porch.

The weather is frigid, his breath floats in the air,
And the sky is the deepest of gray.
The spirit of Christmas can be felt everywhere,
With the promise of snow on the way.

So I watch as my Dad makes his plan of attack,
While I sit comfy, cozy inside.
But I knew in my heart where I needed to be,
Out there shivering, but right by his side.

So I bundle up tight and I head out the door,
Nothing can stand in my way.
And I knew by his smile and his pat on my back
That he truly was glad that I came.

Now perfectionist Dad always knew what to do,
And for him every light had its place.
So together we stood, completing our task,
Precious memories these moments would make.

Under an ominous sky large snowflakes appeared,
And it seemed that the time had just flown.
But we both were determined to finish the job,
Though tired and chilled to the bone.

As the last light was placed, complete darkness prevailed,
We had accomplished our goal just in time.
The smell of Mom's cooking floated by in the air,
And the feeling of success was sublime.

Now into the house, I run with such joy,
To summon all family to come.
And we stand on the street, as Dad plugs in the lights,
Illuminating our world one by one.

For certain it's Christmas and my heart feels so full,
With the beauty of color and shimmer.
But being with Dad sharing time in the cold
Is forever what I will remember!

The world outside is a wondrous place,
Filled with many miracles to see.
It's a place to hear and smell and feel.
It's a place so unfettered and free.

From the welcome warmth of the morning sun,
As it plays upon your eyes,
Enticing you from your slumber
To awaken and come alive.

Or the gentle touch of an Autumn breeze,
As it chills and caresses your face,
Beckoning you to start your day
And let go of the night's embrace.

The sound of the birds as they twitter and sing,
Still nestled in the warmth of the trees.
Soon they will lift their wings in flight,
Shooed away by the fluttering leaves.

To smell that earthy, Autumn air,
As you step outside and breathe.
To hear that steady, familiar crunch,
As you wade through the dried, dead leaves.

To look up and get lost in a ceiling-less sky,
Deep blue or an ominous grey.
Squinting against the brightest of suns,
Or getting soaked by a sudden, cold rain.

To feel beads of sweat on your clammy face,
In the heat of a blistering day.
Then submerge in a river that seeps through your skin,
Dousing the fire in your veins.

To trudge through the deepest, blistering snow,
As the ice stings your rosy red cheeks.
To smell all the fireplaces burning,
As those faint of heart retreat.

To see your breath float on the air,
As your toes and fingers freeze.
And witness an icy, white blanket of snow,
Just as far as you can see.

The snowflakes falling harder now,
The earth is in a blur.
Your clothes feel damp and heavier,
Your speech begins to slur.

Yes, the outside is a wondrous place,
A world of beauty and brawn.
It's independent but so reliable.
It's vulnerable and yet so strong.

Remember the smell of the summer flowers,
With bright colors all around?
Deep green lawns and the aroma of grass,
Trees plush with leaves abound.

The ocean's glistening, thundering waves,
The gritty, infinite sands.
The forests of trees that reach up to the sky,
The mountains that tower over the land.

The outside world is an endless place.
It shows us how small we can be.
It can nurture and comfort our troubled hearts.
It can grant us sweet moments of peace. 

If you take the time to really see,
The outside is a glorious place.
And how lucky we are that this Paradise,
Is only a few steps away.

I'll post all those pictures of me having fun,
Wearing my happiest grin.
Add a few comments to enhance the effect,
And impress all my great Facebook friends.

Make them think that my life is fulfilling,
That I'm truly the best I can be.
Fill up my page with bullshit and lies,
So they all will be jealous of me.

Or perhaps I should post some Political views,
And appear quite informed and so smart.
Creating a page that can trigger debate,
Is an envious Facebook art.

Or maybe I'll take a more spiritual tact,
Sending Blessings to all of my friends.
What a kind and generous gesture,
Who cares if it's all just pretend.

I could certainly post a poem of mine,
And show them how deep I can be.
They be in such awe of the talent I have
They'll wish they could all be like me.

I wonder just how many likes I will get,
And maybe a comment or two.
But what if they simply ignore me today?
I just don't know what I will do.

Comparing my page to all of my friends,
Can cause me such worry and pain.
They have far more likes and a long list of friends,
It makes me feel insecure and ashamed.

I wake up each day and the first thing I do,
Is open my own Facebook page.
And the attention it drew has such an effect,
It can make or break my whole day.

I could never imagine that now in old age,
I'd have such a need to be liked.
And discovering that people really don't care,
Could fill me with panic and fright.

To be young in this world must be terribly hard,
When social media sets the standard so high.
And it constantly stalks and berates our poor youth,
Leading to anger, withdrawal and suicide.

As for myself, I took down my page,
I refuse to engage in such farce.
But when you are young and unsure yourself,
Such rejection can tear you apart.

So take care of the young that you have in your life,
Don't let social media win.
Nurture and protect their fragile esteem,
Be a true and accepting, real friend.