Poem: Free Verse – “Words After Turning Thirty-One” #amwriting #poetry 


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What do we become as women at thirty-one?

Are we put out to pasture? 
Or are we doing the kicking to the curb? 

Are we like the woman of the 1960’s? 

Childless, no husband, so no value? 

Are we no longer desired? 

Are we spinsters, old-maids, bachelorettes for life? 

Or are do we fit my Uncles words:

“The most beautiful women are in their thirties.” 

Is it just the beginning, or is it the end? 

A last stretch of youth?

Or maybe, a reach for adulthood? 

Where some intelligence kicks in, 

And you’re tired of the lies, 

Meaningful nights; mornings depressed. 

So, you’ll wait for the right kind of guy, 

With the right kind of flaws;

Or maybe you live your own charmed life? 

Happy to be single, confident, relaxed.

Is it coming out of bubble gum and pink clouds? 

Finally not a girl;

But a woman who can impact change? 

Is it refinement and elegance? 

A striving for grace and eloquence? 

Is it realizing there is no Prince Charming? 

No white horse or Disney fairytale? 

Building your own life,

Do you forge it the best you can? 

Is it becoming aware even greater, 

Your teachers in childhood are growing older;

Your most lives won’t be around forever, 

So, you gather their wisdom while you can;

Spend time with them now.

Time steals loved ones; be they young or old.

Is thirty-one when you realize,

You are not impervious to dying at anytime in life? 

Severe fatigue, cancer, lupus, Thyroid troubles, 

Depression, anxiety, car accidents, the flu, MS;

Disease in some form, affects us all, 

Bodies which don’t bounce back as easily;

Requiring movement to maintain fitness,
And junk food, oh you’ll pay for it later! 

Sharing a bottle of vodka, tequila, or wine;

Drinking almost all of it, 

Can this be done anymore, and survived? 

Two glasses of wine or two beers, 

Every once in a while seems alright, 

Or face the two-day hangover regrettfully.

The biggest thing about being thirty-one, 

I’ll never get back years in my twenties, 

Lost in fatigue and mental illness, affects of meds;

They’re fond memories of genuine friends;

Futures, I see possibilities of having.

But someone wise once wrote, at the ages if 15 to 32:

Don’t worry about marriage, kids, or being grown-up;

Just enjoy and learn, explore the world. 

The wanderlust calls to me endlessly, 

A mysterious adventure waiting;

Such planning, such difficulties, such hardship; 

For a fantastic trip; I could barely walk all day, 

Or afford it; but wouldn’t it be worth it? 

To have thousands of foot prints,

To cover my pages, and see it’s okay – life goes how it does.

Thirty-one it’s only begun; an age of aspirations, 

Hopefully, inspirations to write more of;

As numerous as my days in all my years allotted. 

Passion and a life to live, anyway I know how.

Grace of God abounding; encircling profoundly, 

His child, he won’t let stumble long.

He guards with angels, and —

His forever promise of light in the dark; 

As wise JK Rowling wrote through Dumbledore:

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times; 

If only one will Remember, to turn on the light.” 
——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

A Prayer Answered


Prayers the words that drip from my lips
How long must I wait for an answer
What is the substance of of my circumstances
That you, oh immortal eye, should judge to give me release
A prayer for the bystander as she stands and waits in ragged glory
A story perhaps, you can tell me how the plot rises
Tell me how the characters develop, or disappear into literary oblivian

A sigh, a confession, a platitude of mercy to an idol of love
Trying to demonstrate the right path to follow
Use me, make me, an example. I have some understanding
Charity is the epitome of love, to give and to give
And to accept charity, when we are given the gift
Grace, how shall I describe it, an undeserved mercy from above
Broken cries, no alibis, will repentance release the sinner

And I cried many nights, heal me and darkness met my eyes
A quietness bore through the night and no answer have I devised
But that grace is sufficient for me, that weakness makes us reliant on God
With such anger did I reject these words, there must be a solution
God did not make me to give up and give in…
But he held me like a little child and carried me in the sand
And I cried in his arms for wings to fly to be like every other child

Never did I feel deserted until I loved someone who did not know Him
Though I begged to have my beloved’s heart opened
Even though we made plans and I had this sinking in my chest
That God would have me choose between my happiness and my soul
I left the world and all I had in His hands and begged another way
All the while wondering what I leave behind
But with infinite care God picked me up again
And carried me down the beach, the answer a whisper
I was to wait and lean on God for understanding.
Drip, drip tears from these lips.