Poems by Patricia Fleming

I saw a shadow passing by,
Thinking it just a trick of the eye.
I turned on the light, but no one was there,
Though I noticed a fragrance, thick in the air.

Convinced all was well, I lay myself down,
But then, without warning, came a frightening sound.
I could hear right beside me, so crystal clear,
Someone was breathing right in my ear.

I turned on the light and jumped out of my bed,
This time I was certain it was not in my head.
The quiet that followed seemed abnormally loud,
And there, in the doorway, I saw a dark cloud.

It floated right toward me as fast as could be,
And then it just stopped, quite suddenly.
And there I could see an old woman's shape,
Dressed in a flowing, black, hooded cape.

Slowly her eyes looked straight into mine,
I felt locked in her stare for what seemed a long time.
But then she just smiled a sick, toothless grin.
As she lapsed into a wild and swift, twirling spin.

I felt mesmerized by this terrible sight,
Unable to move, paralyzed with fright.
And then once again came that sweet, sickening smell,
Perhaps, I was smelling the doorway to hell.

A sinister cackling filled up the room,
She sounded like a murderous, malevolent loon.
She reached out her hands with black, claw-like nails,
And then from her mouth came a torturous wail.

Her spinning slowed down and came to stop,
Just like a child's toy, spinning top.
And then she was gone, she just disappeared.
But I sat there unmoving, still lost in stark fear.

Then I crawled back to bed and curled up by the light.
Grasping my Bible with all of my might.
Praying and praying with heartfelt concern,
That this monstrous spirit might make a return.

I watched as the clock ticked the long night away,
Longing for the light of a brand new day.
And over and over, I relived what I'd seen,
And then suddenly remembered, it was Halloween.

Well it gave me relief; I now lay there quite calm,
The horror I felt was suddenly gone.
That crazy old woman was supposed to be there,
On this day, above all, I deserved one good scare.

Well I felt like a load had been lifted from me,
And as I relaxed I fell quickly to sleep.
But I never forgot what that night I had seen,
And when I was treated to a true Halloween.

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.

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.

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!

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

My words are like my heart beat.
They tell the world that I'm alive.
They recite the tale of who I am
And of all I have survived.

My words reveal my deepest pain.
They betray my greatest fears.
They share moments of my laughter,
As well as moments filled with tears.

My words can come from memories,
Of glorious days gone by.
Or they flow from feelings so extreme,
They lay hidden deep inside.

My words can tell sad stories,
Created in my mind.
Of other lives I've witnessed,
In another place and time.

My words can paint a picture,
Of the seasons in their glory.
They can gently tell of tragedies
Or a hero's noble story.

My words are like a loyal friend
That keep my secrets close.
But will serve as a catharsis
When I need release the most.

My words are my great treasure,
Far more valuable than gold.
And still offer always something new,
Even now that I've grown old.

My words connect me to my fellow man
And give my heart a way to vent.
They remind me I am human
And help my soul repent.

Thank God my words can still be shared,
I'm so grateful for this gift.
To express vast love or sorrow,
Intelligence or wit.

To reach out and touch another heart
Is something I don't fear.
I will use my words right to the end,
To let the world know I was here!

Will I slowly wither like a leaf
That falls upon the earth?
Once void of all its Autumn hues,
It loses all its worth.

Will my strength and vigor for this life
Just one day start to wane?
Will all these lines and wrinkles guise
My once familiar face?

Will I feel no longer needed
By my family and my friends?
Will that thrill of feeling deep in love,
In time come to an end?

Will I lose my sense of purpose,
My reason for each day?
Will my mind grow dull and cluttered
Till I somehow lose my way?

Will I outlive all my loved ones
And find myself alone?
Will I lose my independence,
My possessions and my home?

Will all my fondest memories
Escape my aging grasp?
And will I drift so far away
I never make it back?

Will I be that old forgotten soul
That no one comes to see?
Kept in the hands of strangers,
A shell of who I used to be.

I pray I'm spared such cruelty,
For if I am to live.
I don't want to be a burden
When I still have much to give.

I want to treasure every moment,
Every love my heart embraced.
I need to know each pain I felt,
Each tragedy I faced.

So if someday I disappear
Before I leave this life,
I beg you to reach out to me
And hold on with all your might.

For despite how far away I go,
I need the world to care.
For somewhere in that bewilderment,
I still linger there.

The moon reflects the fallen snow
And makes it light as day
I lay awake upon my bed,
As the clock tick tocks away.

A sound pierces the silence,
Perhaps a sleigh upon the roof.
And rushing to the chimney,
The clip clop of reindeer's hooves.

My heart fills with excitement.
Could Santa Claus be there?
I gently tip toe from my room
And down the wreath-lined stairs.

Then almost in a whisper,
I hear a Ho, Ho, Ho!
And spy a hulking shadow
In the trees' prismatic glow.

I peek around the corner,
And sitting in Dad's chair
Is Santa Claus in all his glory,
Munching cookies I prepared.

His cheeks are pudgy, rosy red,
And his eyes are kind and bright.
I feel frozen there right where I stand,
Bewitched by such a sight.

He seems a happy fellow,
As he finishes his snack.
His bulbous belly shakes with glee
As he gathers up his sack.

And then I see beneath the tree,
Toys of every size.
Everything I ever wished for,
Laid out before my eyes.

And there beside the chimney,
As he prepares to take his leave,
Santa gives a hearty Ho, Ho, Ho!
Then winks and waves at me.

Then suddenly he vanishes,
As the chimney shakes with soot.
And all I see at that last moment
Are his black and shiny boots.

I feel so sad and thoughtless
As I watch him cross the sky.
I never even thanked him
Or wished him luck and said good-bye.

Well, next year will be different,
For I'll be waiting there.
And when Santa makes his visit,
I'll show him just how much I care.

I'll knit for him the longest scarf
To keep the cold at bay
And a huge and cozy blanket
To warm his lap inside his sleigh.

And when it's time for him to go,
He'll not use the chimney anymore,
For I will shake my good friend's hand
And blithely walk him to the door.

How do you measure success in this life?
And who should decide if you fail?
Do life's sweet temptations guide you along?
Or in the end does your conscience prevail?

Is life just a game that you play every day?
Bending the rules for yourself?
Desperately chasing material goals
To the ruin of everything else.

Do you cherish the people around you?
Or do you squander the love that they share.
Do you take time to notice the efforts they make?
Or do you treat them as if they aren't there?

Do you wake up each morning just grateful to be?
Thanking God when you open your eyes?
And how many dawns do you gaze at the sky,
And stop to behold the sun rise?

How many moments in the course of your day
Do you treasure each second of time?
Embracing the sad and sweet that is there,
With the whole of your heart, soul and mind.

And despite any anger you suffer inside,
From the hurt and betrayals of life,
Do you manage to keep your own self-respect?
Or are you led by your own foolish pride?

Do you live by the motto forgive and forget,
Or consumed by the need for revenge?
Do you try every day to live open in truth,
Or is your life just a game of pretend?

For those who are young and new to this world,
So filled with your hopes and your dreams,
Take my advice, don't complicate life.
It is simpler than sometimes it seems.

For when you have reached the twilight of life,
All the answers are finally revealed.
And that searching and struggle that left you confused
With hindsight becomes crystal clear.

Hold fast to that childhood passion and awe.
Cling to each moment you get.
Let your heart feel completely each feeling you have,
And give the people you love all your best.

Don't waste or misuse this wonderful gift.
Don't surrender or grow too complacent.
Remember in the end it's all up to you,
And life can be all that you make it.

When I was young and insecure,
And desperate to be liked.
I tended to withdraw in pain
And flee instead of fight.

All I wanted was to get along.
Conflict was not my style.
So despite what people did to me,
I took it with a smile.

So whenever someone hurt me,
I'd stuff those feelings deep inside.
Forgive but not forget it,
Just take it all in stride.

But anger tends to fester.
It's not so easy to control.
Just like a dormant bomb that's lit,
One day it will explode.

I've suffered many sad regrets.
I've felt my share of shame
For releasing all my pent-up ire
On the ones who weren't to blame.

So I would not advise this practice
Now that I've grown old and wise.
I've learned a great deal in my time,
And there's some truths I realized.

In life you must be tolerant,
But you also must be strong.
You don't have to be a doormat
When someone does you wrong.

You must carefully pick your battles,
Knowing when to let things go.
Don't seek revenge or try to hurt,
For what you reap you'll sow.

Don't back down but don't attack,
Hold your tongue but speak your mind.
You can defend yourself and others,
And still manage to be kind.

It's important that you love yourself.
This is the love that must come first.
If you can't see how grand you are,
Then no one else will see your worth.

A good rule of thumb to follow,
Show the world by what you do -
That you will gladly give respect
But will expect the same for you!