The Joy of Growing Older

Grace grows where time gently weaves its story.

The angles of life, once sharp and bright,

Now soften with time, bathed in gentle light.

Each passing year a treasure to hold,

A story colored in hues of gold.

The mirror reflects a wiser face,

A canvas of love, of laughter, and grace.

Older we grow, yet younger at heart,

A masterpiece where all seasons play a part.

Through life’s shifting shades, we stand tall,

Embracing the beauty of it all.

Aging with joy, like a timeless song,

Knowing each step has made us strong.

⚖️⚖️⚖️

Poetry Prompt:  Shay's Word Garden (Poetry and Such Like)

A pocketful of sunshine and 

Sunday by the Sea

 

Every Sunday, the world stood still,

As we journeyed to the sea’s blue thrill.

With Dad at the helm, his laughter warm,

We braved the tides, the waves, the storm.

The ocean stretched, vast and wide,

A mystery calling us to its side.

Barefoot children, hearts so free,

Chasing dreams along the sea.

He held our hands, then let us go,

Teaching courage in the ebb and flow.

“Trust the water,” he’d softly say,

“Let it carry your fears away.”

In the deep, where the waters dance,

We found our strength, our second chance.

Each stroke a bond, each wave a cheer,

A lesson in love, so crystal clear.

Salt in the air, sun on our skin,

Moments where life would truly begin.

The sea was more than just a shore—

It was our home, our Sunday lore.

Now grown, I hear the ocean’s song,

A timeless hymn where we belong.

And in its depths, I feel him near,

Guiding me still, year after year.

Poetry Prompt:

Memory at "What's Going On"

A pocketful of sunshine and 

Hope in the Shadows

When shadows fall and truth seems lost,

Beneath the weight of lies’ great cost,

A spark ignites, though faint, it burns,

The wheel of justice slowly turns.

The webs of falsehood twist and bind,

Yet truth resides within the mind.

Through every doubt, through every fight,

Its steady glow defies the night.

In darkest hours, strength is found,

When silence echoes all around.

A voice emerges, clear and true,

Revealing what was always due.

The path is hard, the journey steep,

Through buried secrets, lies that creep.

But hope persists, a flame unseen,

It fights for all that might have been.

So when despair begins to call,

And doubt seems stronger than it all,

Remember this: the light will show,

For truth and hope are bound to grow.

⚖️⚖️⚖️

Whether seeking justice, understanding, or peace, let this be your reminder: darkness is not the end. Breakthroughs are born in perseverance, and the truth, no matter how deeply buried, has a way of rising to the surface. Hold onto hope—it is the light that will guide you through.

⚖️⚖️⚖️

Poetry Prompt:

Friday Writings #153: My cup runneth over

A pocketful of sunshine and