Swing-set

It was your day.
We went for a stroll
to while the time away—
just like you, to keep it simple.

The sun was glaring at us
and we’d left our shades at home,
still, we roamed along
the new cement that lines the road—
listening to a jay’s shrill cries,
as if to say, happy birthday.

I was keen to fool around,
running across the road to the
green playground,
where old-time swings
hang waiting to sway.
The seat was soaked,
from the night’s rain.
I wiped my sleeve back and forth
in the pool of water;
you whipped out a tissue
to mop up the rest.

It’s your day, you first! I laughed.
You were quick to settle in
to the rubber sling, your feet
rising from the sand.

I pushed the small of your back
with splayed hands,
and felt like a kid again,
waiting for a turn
to be the one having all the fun.

Up you rose, higher and higher,
flying back into your childhood memories,
where I don’t belong.

Those strong chains,
held on and I let you go,
pumping those legs like a little boy
with grass-stained knees,
rising up to the trees and sky beyond.

“Don’t jump off”, I warned.
You dragged your toes,
until the swing came to a halt,
and stepped away,
a fifty-four year old married man again.

Then, I grabbed the iron chains,
lifting my seat
into the black, rubber swing.
You stood and gave a good shove;
I drifted high into a dream of
hazy days when

it was my daddy
behind me.

Slowing down, I looked over
at the plastic slide
on the other side of the park,
recalling the singe of metal
on the backs of thighs
and felt the sting
of time.

Kathleen Mortensen ©2016

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Don’t make a fuss, please!

48



Should I tell ?
(I deliberated about that.)
Oh, I’m sure
you’ll say the usual
niceties
and I’ll be ever-so,
you know.
It’s no biggie, really.
Not THE BIG ONE, yet.
Just an innocuous
in-between number
kinda
getting close, though.
Can’t deny, this time
it’s rather preying
on my mind.
Ha!
I’m going to a do
in July
for two people
who
are on the hill-crest —
nowhere to go,
but
down.
So, I don’t feel
too bad,
actually.
Now that I think
about it.
I’m fine about
it.
Really. I am.
Really.

Kathleen Mortensen©2009 Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

Maple Leaf Forever!

That’s my City Hall in the background!
(Photo borrowed from Flickr)

I know you’re all just waiting with bated breath for the next installment of The Soul Mate and I do apologize for the delay, but a few things have conspired to keep me from the task of editing and posting it.

It’s Canada Day here, in my neck of the woods. Woo hoo! Yeah, Canada! As a result, this weekend has been more busy than I had anticipated.

Also, I’m pleased to report that someone has commissioned me to write a Wedding Poem for them and I’ve been putting together a questionnaire to elicit information for the task. I’m also pleased to say that one of my fellow-bloggers has asked me to write a poem for her son’s birthday, which I am more than happy to do.

The other thing that is eating up my time at the minute, is the planning and execution of a little party to celebrate my parents’ 50th Wedding Anniversary coming up on August 9.

Bottom Line: I will have the Soul Mate, Chapter Four up as soon as I can.

In the meantime, I’ll throw whatever goodies I can into the mix to keep you all entertained. (A poem may even spring to light, who knows?)

As ever, thanks for your dedicated presence here at Poetikat’s and if it’s your first time, please introduce yourself and make sure you come back.

Thanks,

Kat

Rule Britannia once again!

Here in Canada, the holiday that commemorates the longest-reigning British Monarch is upon us. Queen Victoria ruled for 63 years. Canadians typically, (at least where I’m from, here in Ontario) head north to the cottage and shoot off fireworks. Although never one for showy displays or loud bangs, I too am northward bound this weekend, not only to celebrate Victoria Day , but also to mark the occasion of my mother-in-law’s 75th birthday on May 26th.

I shall return on Monday and undoubtedly will be anxious to get back to my laptop and my fellow-bloggers. I will try and squeeze in some poetry-writing while I’m away (hiding in a cabin, trying to escape the fray). You see, I’m already at work!

Have a great weekend, wherever you are!

Happy Birthday Your Majesty!

Kat