Cake

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Cake

I was told there would be cake
a delicious flavor just for me
yet I grow tired of lingering
I’m crumbling into pieces
my life stale and tasteless.

I was told there would be cake
yet I find no sweet treat today
my kitchen sits spotless awaiting
the glorious gooey sticky mess.
Will I ever find that recipe again?

I was told there would be cake
as the years go by the craving grows
sitting alone at a table set for one
wondering if I’ll be left
holding an empty plate.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Picking a protest sign to write about linking with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. Divorced twice with no children I still dream of finding that special man to share the rest of my life with. That would take the cake and be sweet indeed.

Painted Ladies

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Painted Ladies

Primary colors
bright painted places
all dressed to kill
with wooden faces.

Historic old homes
begging attention
just don’t ask their age
it’s a bone of contention.

Sitting so prettily
rows upon rows
ladies in waiting
in their best clothes.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photograph by Gary Lo a friend of mine on Google+. (To see more of his work click on his name.) Written for Saturdays Image Write #7. Please drop in and join me for an image write each Saturday. Also linked to Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for the theme home.

Truth

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Truth

Dust particles dance
within a shaft of sunlight
slowly crossing the room
traveling over my body
warm and comforting
like a lovers embrace
to the mirror where I stand
contemplating my mortality
the sun has become harsh
I raise a hand in denial.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

We are writing about mirrors this Wednesday at Poets United where I’ll link up then.

It’s My Song

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It’s My Song

So beautiful and free
I felt just like that once
the world my Wonderland
and I could do no wrong.

Blinded by my youth
forever was my troth
until that mighty fall
into the rabbit hole.

Now that time has passed
my body bent with age
my mind keeps playing tricks,
a lie!
(I tell myself.)

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

The Calendar

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The Calendar

The Calendar doesn’t care
what day it is
it’s got so many to choose from
it can afford to lose one.

The calendar doesn’t count
when days go flying by
or care about your age
it simply turns the page.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written with Poets United and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.