Poems by Pat Fleming

Purple veins strain against the skin.
Pale, translucent, paper thin.
Skinny fingers clawed in monstrous shapes,
Brown spots from years that she can't erase.

Now wrinkled and fragile, weak and sore,
So many things she can't do anymore.
Some days she feels she's been betrayed
By the cruelty of her advancing age.

She rubs her hands to ease the ache
And recalls the life they helped to make.
She looks at them and feels the loss,
Living a life bears a very high cost.

These hands that held her children near,
That gently dried their salty tears.
Hands that held her husband's tight,
That never let go against the fight.

Miraculous hands that protected and soothed.
Hands, they conveyed her every mood.
Hands so strong they could carry the weight,
That would never give up and never forsake.

Those hands that took little but always gave,
Hands that applauded each achievement made.
Those soft, sweet hands that gently cared,
For those sick or lost in dark despair.

Hands that fussed and fumbled that day
Her husband gave their daughter away.
Those hands holding tight as he slowly died,
Caressing his brow as she stood by his side.

Hands that rocked her grandson to sleep,
That gladly took over when others grew weak.
Hands that once held everyone that she loved,
And prayed for strength to our God above.

Hands that were always so willing to give,
Hands that reveal a life fully lived.
Small, feeble hands, now empty and cold,
These hands that each day will keep growing old.

These hands she now tends to hide away,
These hands that at times make her feel ashamed.
Grotesque and useless in her eyes,
They rest in her lap as she quietly cries.

But I see the hands of a hero so true,
A woman who survived what this life put her through.
A woman whose heart still shimmers like gold,
With the hands of a warrior who made her mark on this world.

Seagulls soar above her surf,
The sun reflects and gleams,
While people come from miles around
To stroll upon her beach.

Her touch conveys an icy chill
Through her stinging, foamy spray,
While her thunderous waves rush to the shore,
Then gently roll away.

Her blue horizon meets the sky,
The end cannot be seen
While her salty fragrance fills the air
And floats upon the breeze.

She safely cradles in her arms
The boats that bounce upon her tides
And plays coy with all the surfers
Who beckon for another ride.

She can distract us from our worries.
She can lure and hypnotize.
With the rhythm of her movement
And her beauty in our eyes.

She's a force that can't be reckoned with,
A power to revere.
She's a lovely, sweet seductress
Who we long to settle near.

There are no words that truly tell
The splendor of her face
Or recreate that feeling,
Of such a warm and peaceful place.

The ocean is a lovely gift.
She's God's great Masterpiece.
A miracle we can behold
That gives us reason to believe.

He grew up in a town where people were poor,
In a family quite wealthy with love.
He was raised by two parents who were stable but strict
And taught him to trust God above.

The days of his youth were like everyone else,
Filled with both good times and bad.
But he learned to look forward and follow his dreams
And be grateful for all that he had.

And then at 19, it was time to escape
From the shelter and safety of home.
So he went off to the Navy in search of himself
And to finally stand up on his own.

When tragedy struck and his ship was destroyed,
Torpedoed and lost to the sea,
He learned just how quickly his whole world could change
And how frightening and short life could be.

So when he returned to family and home,
He found where his future now lied,
And he studied and worked and had children,
With the love of his life by his side.
           
And the rest, as they say, is just history,
But my story all started with him.
He raised me and loved me and taught me what's right,
And I hold him forever within.

The man I've described is my father,
A man of whom I feel so proud.
He was loving, and honest, and decent,
And his humor brought sunshine through clouds.

And it's true that today he's no longer with me.
His laughter and hugs are now gone,
But my deep love for him remains in my heart,
And his memory forever lives on.

But I hope from the heavens he still could look down,
And I hope through the years he could see
Just how hard I have strived to be just like him,
So he could still feel proud of me.

If time exists in heaven,
Do you still rise with the sun?
Do you and Mom share breakfast
Before your day has begun?

Can the heavens hear your laughter
As you sit and reminisce
About the time we had together
And other people that you miss?

And Daddy, do you still take walks
Along heaven's seas?
And when you gaze upon the surf,
Do you remember walks with me?

Are your standing with those brave young men
Upon its perfect shores?
Finally by their sides again,
Your comrades from the war.

Do you gather with your family
Beneath heaven's glow?
And gaze upon those mountains still
That once you called your home.

Is music all around you,
All those songs you held so dear?
Do you and Mom still sing together,
The way you did when you were here?

Do you ever have long talks with God
About those left behind?
Do you tell him all the stories
Of all our grand and treasured times?

I think that heaven must be grateful
To have you there each day,
To bring your easy laughter
And your silly sense of play.

And I'm sure that God already knows
The special father you had been
And how I wish that you were here
To guide my way again.

But I carry you inside my heart.
You are never far from me.
I see you in my smile
And in who I grew to be.

And I'm sure that on this Father's Day
God will help you celebrate
All those dads who changed the world with love.
What a party that will make!

Sometimes I dream that I can fly.
I lift and flap my arms just so,
And soon I'm soaring to the sky.
Graceful like a bird I go.

I find a fluffy cotton cloud
And catch myself a comfy ride.
I cannot hear a single sound,
As slowly through the air I glide.

My silky cloud floats with the breeze,
Through the bluest sky.
Just like a sailboat on the sea,
With seagulls swooping by.

I look upon the streets below
And spy my friends at play.
I dive and dip and twirl around,
As they watch in awe and wave.

I feel so giddy, light and free,
The sun so warm and bright.
I think that I shall fly all day,
And catch a star at night.

But then the wind begins to blow,
And the clouds turn angry gray.
They growl and rumble as they go,
And chase the birds away.

And though it's fun to touch the sky,
I start to feel alone.
I don't feel welcome anymore,
I think perhaps I should go home.

So I lift my arms and tuck my head,
And drift back to the ground.
And when my feet are back on earth,
The rain comes pouring down.

Indeed I had the grandest time,
Up in the boundless sky.
But it's really much too lonely there
To live in all the time.

And though my friends looked up to me
And my heroic flying feats,
It seemed they liked me just as much
When I stood on my two feet.

So I'll do my flying in my dreams,
Where it's all just make believe.
And in real life, I'll stay right here,
Where I'm loved just being me.

Depression is a monster
That destroys both heart and soul.
It tortures without mercy
And consumes its victim whole.

It cripples and disables,
Making life too hard to cope.
It can make each day a nightmare
And leave a person without hope.

Some people feel this sadness
From the time that they are young,
And believe that they are different
And can't be loved by anyone.

It's reinforced by parents
Too depressed themselves to care
For that child they're supposed to love,
But instead forget is there.

Depression can be nurtured
Through violence and neglect
And fists used only to degrade
And words used to reject.

It's hidden in those bullies
Who torture and demean,
Who use their words like weapons
To destroy all self-esteem.

It's fueled by those substances,
That are used to help escape.
From that endless pain depression brings
And that unbearable heartache.

It can cause someone to just give up,
To lose all strength to fight.
It can annihilate one's very soul
And make them take their life.

Yes, Depression is a vulture
That will make anyone its prey.
There is no one who deserves it,
And there is no one to blame.

We don't need to make a judgment,
But we need to be aware
That those who suffer through this pain
Just need the world to care.

Before he crawled into his bed,
He prayed his soul to take.
Then curled up in the darkness,
And spent the night awake.

He dreaded the morning and all it would bring
But believed that it never could change.
For with the dawn of each new day,
That face in the mirror remained.

He longed to pull the covers up
And stay forever there.
And when the sun came creeping through,
He questioned if God even cared.

He grew weary from the struggle.
He longed to have one friend.
He wished they could accept him.
He just wanted to fit in.

But for him, school was a battlefield,
A place where he never felt safe.
And at times, he felt so much anger inside,
He worried how much more he could take.

He felt bruised and battered inside and out,
So he withdrew into himself.
He wanted to fight but didn't know how.
He wished that someone would help.

But he silently carried his hurt and his pain,
So ashamed that he acted so weak.
He tried not to cry and never complained.
He would take the abuse and retreat.

Sometimes he contemplated getting revenge.
Then some days he just wanted to hide.
Sometimes he thought he could kill everyone,
Then there were moments he wanted to die.

Every day he faced bullies, angry and mean.
They were always lurking out there.
They tried to destroy every ounce of esteem
And convinced him that nobody cared.

His life was a nightmare he had to endure,
And he wasn't alone in his pain.
He saw there were others who were different, like him,
And their torture and hurt was the same.

So is this the life that we wanted for them?
Should our children feel anger and fear?
And is this the legacy we'll leave behind,
Or should we save them while we are still here.

So instead of us arguing after the fact
And taking a stand that's too late,
We must teach them the value of kindness
And that differences should be embraced.

That the human spirit can be fragile and weak.
It can break in the blink of an eye.
And we must always respect others' dignity,
Or our humanity can't hope to survive.

The days of their youth remain in their hearts
And will color their future ahead.
So let's help them create a warm, welcome place,
Instead of a world filled with dread.