The prompt for Writing 101 today is to write about an event that takes place in a single day. Also, I will be including The Daily Post word prompts Phase, Dream, and Grain. I’m trying something with poetry and I hope the result isn’t tedious.
It started in the morning ending at —
Evening; children who were born with —
A scream on their lips, removed from —
The womb; swaddled in blankets.
Life is a day and each day we spend —
One single day, representing —
A lifetime; not knowing each day —
Could end in a moments glance.
Babe once born, phase into toddler,
Sucking on bottles, weened off.
Already, personality —
Forming; individual who tantrums.
Couldn’t get her way playing in her —
Pre-school; no hitting allowed there.
Prepares her for kindergarten,
Where she better know her typing.
To write her name proudly with her,
Markers scribbling future —
Artist; parent’s dream but she’s holding —
Building blocks; then she’s finished–
Being a kid, now screaming to —
Her brother, ‘stay out of my bed —
Room;’ texting her friends, their all —
Nearly sixteen, appearing twenty-one.
She’s been drinking since thirteen-years,
Not weird to her; she’s been there before.
Degree in engineering of —
Structures; dreams building stream-lined.
Caught the eye of a man where she works,
He’s ten-years her senior at his —
Prime; another engineer, they’ve —
Two kids, girl and a boy, on their —
Own journeys; and she’s divorced.
Only thirty-five, raising teenagers,
Tiring of her career; her daughter–
Pregnant; along comes grandchildren.
She’s only forty and remarries,
Her true soul mate she says, kids hate —
Him; replacing father they never see,
Grandma raising baby of her daughter.
Mom is forty-five; son marries girl,
A beautiful blond, into fine art.
Mom doesn’t like her; girl’s a phase.
Son has three kids and stays married.
Daughter won’t talk; sends home one more —
Squalling infant for Grandma to —
Care for and work too; step-Opa glad,
Never had kids, he loves his grandbabies.
The grandbabies grow and she’s pushing —
Sixty-five-years; grandkids moving —
Out; hoping they do better than her —
Sweet daughter; dead, needle marks proof.
She wants to travel, she’s been all —
Over the world but only for work.
So Oma and Opa see the —
World divine; slowing down in life.
She teaches, a class or two for —
Dumb first-year engineer students,
Doesn’t know how they’ll fill her shoes,
But they’ve all this technology.
Eighty-six and she’s alone; her soul —
Mate, he passed away; time speeds through,
She has a dog that keeps her happy,
But she out-lives the dog as well.
Grains of sand sifting, her time comes,
In hospital they can’t believe she’s,
One-hundred-and-one; she dies with —
Great-grandkids crying for their Oma.
This, is a lifetime you say not —
One single day, but you don’t see,
How with such quickness, a lifetime —
Is reduced to one significant —
One magnimounous little,
Day before God; finally, wandering home.
©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.