Written by ©LeeMarie Poem …Until Summer
Shut the doors
And lock the shutters
Another season is upon us;
by gone days of a steamy summer.
It’s slowly fading changing colors,
as blue skies turn to white.
I’ll miss the softness of the grass
beneath my feet;
With each step I took released those
sweet aromas up to me.
The gentle rain against my cheek,
glistening in strength all over me.
The familiar warmth against my skin;
anticipating what the day would bring.
With a heavy heart I must say goodbye
taking solace in the knowledge
that you’ll always be close by;
to come again to brighten up all our lives.
A silent hush befalls the waters,
that once held all the
laughter
chatter and follies;
that echoes around in
brilliant symmetry.
The longing it will grow deeper
as the nights they'll turn colder;
to feel that summer sun upon your face, once again.
They’ll be no more promises offered
until spring...
until spring...
I looked out the window on September 24th
the last day in the high 20’s Celsius and saw a beautiful tree of pure redness
in the distance.
The rest of the weeks forecast was going to be 17 Celsius; so that
night I got to turn off the air conditioners and pull them out of the bedroom
and from the front room of the apartment and placed back the screens; then came
the fun part the lugging of the air conditioners into the back closet until late May of
2017.
There was finally silence in the house which I enjoyed until I turned on
the central air purifier on intermediate as the apartment started to suddenly
feel damp; the noise is a far, gentler sound then the air conditioners.
The blue jays started coming onto my balcony
railing looking around for something to eat, as their internal instincts
remembered me from previous years of throwing peanuts onto the flat roof of a
house next to mine; so I bought a bag and started throwing them some.
I
received a call from the doctor the next day, letting me know the battery of
tests that were filed with the hospital were rejected, some hospital policy of
a dead line overlapped on the sending and receiving end. The doctor on the line
spoke to me in detail using English only, so that day I got some respect. I had to
go back in on Wednesday to redo it all except the x-rays that came back all
clear. The pain in the back of my head had gotten worse and so he examined it
and touched on the spot that was causing me grief and he sat me down and had a
conversation with me on the issue and he switched to English from
French again. The nurse on duty that day received me with good humor, and
politeness, a huge contrast to Monday’s experience.
It seems I may have shingles, having had chicken
pox as a kid; it could turn into a virus as an adult and it is quite painful. I’ll
find out soon enough if this is the case.
My journey to and from the clinic had beautiful
blue skies reflecting in the river and the building painted mural was pleasing
to the eye as the sun shone on part of it.
I took my cell phone out and took
pictures as a distraction to all the going on’s of the week; and we're only in the middle of it.
As I walked along King Street East
I stopped
in on Friday to a little place and bought a take away French vanilla coffee and
enjoyed some sun as I strolled along. I decided after retrieving the
medications from the pharmacy on Belvedere south. I needed something
stronger with my supper that night and got myself a beer which led to wanting a
cigarette and so I broke down in weakness and smoked some. It felt so good
and familiar as I held it between my fingers and in haled that chemically
filled smoke into my mouth and lungs. When I retired for the evening I was back
on water and nicotine gum as that minor wobble had not deterred me from the
plan to succeed. So no more drinking for me, well, maybe I’ll try again to have
a drink at Christmas. Mornings here often bring in fog mixed with an amazing sunrise from my balcony door window.
On my computer screen I have a slide-show of my
family pictures, and of the places I have been and seen. A fall picture caught
my eye of a place I stayed in back in 2011 about 30 minutes from the Hawkesbury
border of Quebec and Ontario; a beautiful 16 acre place in Deer country that I
was responsible for while the owner was off in Mexico on a job contract. The
day before I left I had the crushing experience of having to put my dog down of 15
years. I was heart broken from having to witness this as he kissed me one final time until
he fell into permanent sleep. I left the vet’s office from West Island of
Montreal with tears still streaming down my cheeks; the sun was trying to peak
out between the clouds after it had been raining and this glorious rainbow
formed in what seemed like a triple arc and it made me smile like it was a sign
from my dog’s soul showing me everything would be alright; it’s what I want to believe. I had never met a more, sweeter dog with such
a grateful appreciation and happiness every time I took him out for his walks.
He’d roll around on the grass do a little run
and had this look on his face of pure joy. No matter what mood I was in he
always managed to make me laugh and feel better for it. When I took the post up
north the vet gave me his tiny casket to bury up there in woods, I planted
black eyed Suzie’s, so they’d come up every year.
I walked all over that the sprawling property in
deer country, you could hear water falls from a distance and various bird
sounds, I could even spot deer in the bushes. It was the first time in my life I
was absolutely alone, where all the noise from every day life was turned off
with no persons in sight for miles except an old man with his dog down the end
of the lane of the long drive way;
I saw him once in awhile when I picked up the
mail once a week from a communal mail box way down the street. I spent my days filling plates of
bird seeds and peanuts for the chickadees, blue jays and other sorted birds I
had no name for.
Even a wood pecker showed up in the winter. I didn't get a very good shot of him, but I know it's him.
There were Chipmunks that came around I started to be familiar with their
sounds, and one chipmunk even told me off for not having peanuts out; I followed
the sound and spied him out the French door windows looking directly at me
standing by an empty bowl.
I set my office up by the windows in the front of
the house and had my camera at hand to capture them all in action. I placed a
hummingbird feeder up too;
if you stayed real still when sitting out on the
porch you could watch them feeding. Placing the camera in position slowly so
they wouldn't notice I could capture their movements. However, my camera isn't good enough to get a real good shot of them.
The deer started coming around in the fall for the apples and especially in the winter looking for food and that winter it was harsh, with lots of snow and cold.
They were eating out of the bird seed hangers so I picked up
large bags of carrots and apples and some containers of molasses for them too.
If I had been seen by the wildlife patrol I
would have been fined. By February the deer knew me by sight and licked their
lips and stuck out their tongues the way my cat does when she wants to be
fed.
I got some amazing photo shots of the deer in action, two males standing
on their hind legs at one another
marking their territory. I even took a shot of one of them squatting to poop. I
felt a gush of joy and truly blessed to be able to witness these beautiful
creatures in action.
Wild
turkeys came around eating the bird seeds
and grouse with the females who slept
in the trees and the male on the ground. The male birds are far prettier than
the female birds, must be to ensure they attract the females for mating.
It has been one my most favorite, amazing,
experiences in all my life. I can not thank my friend enough for pointing me in
this direction.
I've Learned poem Written by ©LeeMarie
I've learned from
someone who once told me,
half the world will laugh
with me, while the other half laughs at me.
I've learned that it doesn't matter
how many great things I've done right
many will only remember
the things I got so very wrong.
I've learned to
bounce and ignore, that oh not so comfortable feeling,
of being the only one in
the room, who truly gets my meaning.
I've learned that I
have difficulty in relaying the things that need saying.
It seems I can never think
fast enough on my feet leaving a trial of uncertainty in its stead.
I've learned it may
make me seem nervous for my need to think.
when faced with
confrontation, conflicts make me feel Weak.
I've learned that
there are choices on how to react to things,
I’ll try not to take what
is said or done so personally easier said then than you think.
I've learned that
it’s uncomfortable when I get so angry,
I’ll close the door far
too quickly on friend who disagrees with me
I've learned
that deciding what is best for me,
can sometimes mean the
hell with everybody else.
I've learned to
leave the power of those thoughts to the owner’s of it,
that blaming others is so
much easier than looking inside your self.
I've learned that
I can be a product of my environment,
letting circumstances
imprison me, seems like such a waste of time.
I've learned that
maybe I don’t need to share all the things I carry,
That maybe it’s alright to
be the only one holding all the secrets that aren't so very merry.
I've learned that
without some suffering there’s no gratitude for the very many blessings that I
have,
without loss and fears to
face up to there would be no growth to measure up to or overcome.
I've learned that
giving is not a gift everyone has,
generosity is sometimes
all I really have.
I've learned that
falling in love clouds your judgment and fogs up your reality,
that crushes get you high
until it crashes and leaves you dry and empty.
I've learned that my
voice is loud and often boisterous,
but sometimes my words can
make you laugh full heartily.
I've learned that
I am what I say I am,
that no one should make me
feel small or guilty.
I've learned that
looking someone straight in the eyes keeps you genuine,
that big smiles given will
always be appreciated so spread it around more freely .
After three months into my stay in deer
country I started to feel a little better about life and started to unwind.
I
was putting on music first thing in the morning and dance exercising as I let
each window view flow in as a delight at being all alone to witness all this
beauty. I had the talk radio CJAD on to hear conversations and I used messenger
to communicate with a few of my friends. I was filling my days taking care of
the property; in the summer it took 2 days and half days to cut all the grass.
By
the end of summer I could run up the hill with the lawn mower with ease. It hadn't started out that way, I thought I wouldn't be able to do it or at the very least it felt that way, but I am tenacious if not stubborn. I grew a vegetable garden
There is nothing like the taste of garden fresh.
I had flower pots and designed a bed of flowers, scattering flower pots all over the place.
I filled
the porch with hangers and on the stairs there were pots
of herbs and flowers
onto each one leading up to the house. I filled my days with projects, I drew and painted, taught myself some more skills with a digital arts program,
Cutting around photos I took and combining other photos and using only colors from my photos placing them all in a pattern box. While filling a picture tube box with only photos I had taken, taking the pains taking time to cut all their back rounds away. I designed my own patterns, masks and frames for backgrounds. I wanted everything I painted and everything I used to create a new piece to be from my own personal material as much as deemed possible. So when I would scan a drawing into the program I could paint it to life directly using the program with all the category of boxes I created.
When I wasn't painting or designing, I was working on some poems, songs, short stories and some therapy writing. I also did a lot reading
and research determined to better myself into some one closely resembling normality
and stability, some I could respect. I hadn't felt good about myself for some time and I needed to work on that.
I went for long
walks exploring, my camera always in hand and filled my lungs with pure natures
air and all it's beauty.
To me it was starting to feel like the best
medicine on the planet and I felt like I was on the right track, finally. I had
come here filled with heartache and disappointments. Failures to account for and I
needed the time to take a hard core look into myself and make some serious
changes and adjustments.
Things on my Mind Written by ©LeeMarie
I've got things on my mind
words are spinning in my head.
I've got some thing to say
got to get it off my chest.
The problem is where to start?
I don’t want to go and mess things up.
I’m hoping to find the answers soon
so I can go and talk to you.
In the mean time what do I do?
To stop my self from thinking of you.
It’s driving me mad, making me sad,
it shouldn't be this difficult.
But still my head keeps swirling round
bringing it all back
to you.
It seems to me I don’t trust myself.
It’s simple to say you open your mouth
and you let the words pour out.
Where’s the faith that everything will work itself out?
I’m hopping to find those answers soon.
So I can go and talk to you.
In the mean time what do I do?
To stop my self from thinking of you.
It’s driving me mad, making me sad,
it shouldn't be this difficult.
But still my head keeps swirling round
bringing it all back to you.
I had been searching since I was 18 years old
for my birth mother; Social services contacted me with a file to give me
and I learn t that I came from an extremely large French family. I needed to know my roots
and heritage; I wanted to be a part of that large family since I had none of my
own to speak of at the beginning of the search. I got the call I have been
longing for years to receive in 2013, as I kept in touch with the adoption
agency in Laurentian and gave them every new address and phone number as the
search was still on going for my family. I had spoken to the same nice lady in charge
of my file for years and finally I was up next on the list for someone to place
the call to my birth mum and see if she was interested in connecting with me. I
had lost my adoptive family at 15 years of age. I walked out on them for many
good reasons. They were destroying me, to put it simply. I had to save myself
from any more harm they were causing me. The whole situation had caused me many
years of grief even years after I left.
It's
too late Written by ©LeeMarie
2010
2010
A
Mother's Love Exiled
It's too late, to tell me that you had
loved me.
It's too late, to say that you had cared.
It's too late, to tell me of your best intentions.
It's too late; to say my memories are all imagined.
It's too late, to drown out the sound of all my screaming.
It's too late, to stop the walls from closing in around me.
It's too late, to sit alone amongst all these so called delusions.
It's too late; to stop the pain I am now consumed with.
It's too late, to award a new beginning.
It's too late, to love the image of your distinction.
It's too late, to believe I was the only reason.
It's too late, to feel remorse for all the damage
that you've done to me.
It' too late. . .
It's too late, to say that you had cared.
It's too late, to tell me of your best intentions.
It's too late; to say my memories are all imagined.
It's too late, to drown out the sound of all my screaming.
It's too late, to stop the walls from closing in around me.
It's too late, to sit alone amongst all these so called delusions.
It's too late; to stop the pain I am now consumed with.
It's too late, to award a new beginning.
It's too late, to love the image of your distinction.
It's too late, to believe I was the only reason.
It's too late, to feel remorse for all the damage
that you've done to me.
It' too late. . .
My birth mum was hesitant at first as no
one in the family knew she'd given birth. Apparently she was talked into giving
me away by the nuns in Montreal. She had intended on raising me despite my
birth father having left Montreal on another dig as an archaeologist, knowing
full well of my impending birth had declared no interest in knowing me on his way out. The
nuns told her I would be better off with a 2 parent family and would be given a
greater chance at life.
I was advised by the case worker to write a letter to
my birth mum introducing myself; only after I passed a psychological test to be
considered fit and of sound mind that I wasn't out to harm or seek some form of compensation for any mistreatment, I may had been dealt with from my former
upbringing.
I wrote my birth mum a very uplifting letter only mentioning the
positive of journeys I was on and experienced. I got my first letter back from
her and a couple of correspondence later we graduated to phone calls and after a
year of that, the day arrived for our first visit. I stayed a week and
experienced a true francophone culture and learned of my family history,
pouring over pictures with so many names to remember that I had to cut it down
to retaining immediate to grandparents and great parents. Which is how I know,
that I am from the roots of Ireland
during the potato famine journeyed over to Quebec Ontario
Thanksgiving
Poem Written by ©LeeMarie 2016
Blessed are
we for the food we eat,
And for the
clothes we get to keep.
A place to
call home where we can get some sleep.
Blessed are
for the love that we have received
From family
and friends that keep us sweet.
For the days that
rise and the nights that fall.
Mother Nature
takes care of us all.
Happy Thanks Giving Everyone!
Well, that’s it for now…
Until next time, stay active, stead fast and true to youCheers XO
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Thank you for taking the time. Kind Regards LM