Poems by Patricia Fleming

The familiar rhythm of the cricket's chirps
Create the soundtrack for each day,
Echoing Summer's end
And that Autumn's on her way.

The stifling heat of the summer sun
Is now tempered by the clouds.
Those fluffy, cotton August clouds,
That soft breezes push about.

Shadows falling everywhere
As the sun plays peek-a-boo.
Losing her strength with each new day,
A sure sign that Summer is through.

As the lazy, care-free summer days,
Reluctantly draw to an end.
Excitement grows for what's ahead,
As school days and the Fall begin.

And no matter how the years may pass,
And how old I come to be,
I'll always love this time of year,
As it holds such fond memories

Of sitting with my childhood friends,
Recalling all our fun
While running, swimming and riding bikes
Beneath the summer sun.

And sharing all our hopes and dreams
As the future stirs us on.
Knowing as we sit on that late, August eve,
Summer's ending, but her memory lives on.

But there's also a haunting sadness sometimes
That I feel when those dark shadows fall.
And that my greatest adventures in life
Are just memories, now aroused by those sweet cricket calls.

Dear World,

I fear it's over!
It's time to go our separate ways.
I just can't meet those expectations
that you place on me each day.

You constantly berate me,
all you do is criticize
and I'll never measure up again
to what's beauty in your eyes.

When I was younger, it was easier
to be all you said that I should be.
But now that I've grown older,
what you get is what you see.

My face is lined with wrinkles,
some even make-up cannot hide,
and even bigger clothes can't cover
my growing belly, rump and thighs.

My hair is getting thinner.
My boobs are sagging to the floor.
No one would call me pretty
and looking sexy is absurd.

But your judgement is so brutal,
and you've set too high a ceiling.
Your standards are unreasonable
and make me feel so unappealing.

But beauty isn't always tangible.
It isn't just what we can see.
There's a beauty with a power,
and true integrity.

It lies deep inside our hearts and souls
It's everything we need and more.
It isn't loud or flashy
But it's light can't be ignored.

It's a gift that only God bestows
and when it touches you your blessed.
It's a vision that when shared with you
you never can forget.

So, dear world, you have my sympathy
for your ignorance and greed.
You lost sight of what true beauty is
and what being beautiful should mean.

As I grew older you lost interest
and looked at me through captious eyes.
You no longer saw the beauty there,
because you never looked inside.

Sincerely,
Pat

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.

There's a silence so loud that it's deafening,
And the sun seems unusually bright.
The world is awakening to a bitter cold morn
And a crystalline blanket of white.

Our breath can be seen in the frigid air,
Our boots crunch, crunch with our stride.
Shovels resound in the midst of their battle,
As people now brave the outside.

Snowflakes still fall, leaving drops in the snow.
They melt as they land on our tongues.
People all bundled up tight to keep warm,
Suited up to let loose and have fun.

We're also determined to have a good time,
As we take our own stand in the snow.
The crisp, frosty wind tries to chase us away,
Pushing our backs as we go.

But no matter our struggle with winter's attack,
Our excitement just won't let us wait.
The snow is falling harder and steadier now,
And there's a Snowman that we must create.

Rolling the snow into big hearty balls,
Stacking each one on the last.
Charcoal for eyes and a long carrot nose,
And a hat and a scarf to add class.

A day made of wonderful memories,
Hours of laughter and childish fun.
And as time rushes by, we realize with glee,
That our work on our Snowman is done!

The gold, dimming sun retreats from the sky.
We are shivering and chilled to the bone.
Farewell and adieu to our shimmering pal,
And hello to the fires of home.

I gaze out at the night, as the house settles down,
And from the window I watch the snow fall.
And there in the glow of the fullest of moons,
Our exquisite, plump Snowman stands tall.

At first his knocks were timid
but his intentions were depraved.
I felt my darkest fears arising
as he grew more angry and half-crazed.

His kicks and pounds upon my door
became more outraged and resolved
and the moment more horrific
as all sanity dissolved.

I screamed for someone please to help.
I begged against his rising rage.
My home was not my safe place now
but a terrifying cage.

My husband pressed against the door,
would help arrive too late?
As the Monster shouted vile threats,
I feared the worst would be our fate.

I felt filled with such confusion.
What had we done to stir such hate?
This Monster, once our quiet friend,
whatever brought him to this state?

Suddenly the battered door was breached.
My husband fought with all his might.
He was determined he would save us
and he was now prepared to fight.

Then with a simple kitchen knife,
he sliced the Monster's arm.
The door slammed shut as the Coward ran
in petrified alarm.

The police broke through the downstairs door
and subdued the bleeding beast.
I could feel the thumping of my heart.
as I buckled at the knees.

My precious home was now destroyed.
My soul forever scarred.
My mood had sunken to a depth
that was empty, cold and dark.

Still my tears have gone on endlessly.
Sleep evades me every night.
I feel detached from those around me
in an unceasing state of fright.

My mind seems dim and cluttered.
My heart shattered into bits.
My soul cries out for vengeance
as I sink into a hate-filled pit.

And here I am inside that pit,
too weak and tired now to care.
Searching for myself in desperation
but finding me no longer there.

What if I had died that day?
and I'm just a spirit left to roam?
What if I've lost that peace forever
of my embracing "Home Sweet Home?"

For now I choose to just give up
and try my hardest to forget.
These days I just don't have the strength
to ponder my regrets.

Just let me be alone for now
and don't think too ill of me.
Forgive my melancholy
and please don't say that I am weak.

Then perhaps I will return in time,
feeling hopeful and revived.
Proud that I'm still standing
because, somehow, I have survived.