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For a Moment

Lying down on my lawn chair
Past midnight.
A candle on the table my main source of light
Serenaded by the cricket orchestra
(It really needs a little something extra, it’s rather monotonous)

Feeling the damp settle on my exposed skin
I gaze up at the stars
Electrical wire in the way
Thinking I should move so I can see better

But why
It’s not like I recognize anything besides the Big Dipper
and maybe Venus – Is that her?

3 gin and tonics in
I’m a tad fuzzy-minded
(and less inhibited)
So what?
I don’t work tomorrow, I’ve no responsibilities
For a moment
I fancy myself a poet
I know I’m not; I can pretend
Who cares?

I know I’m just a girl
(Can I use the term girl when I’m middle-aged?)
Yes I can because only a girl would say how I feel
As I lie here wishing
For something else
Than what is

99 thoughts on “For a Moment

  1. This brought up some of my own moments of lying under the stars, wanting to be a poet or an artist, Hope there was a shooting star to help you with your wish. πŸ™‚

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  2. Great capturing of a moment. Poetry is in the eye of the beholder. πŸ™‚

    I’m with you on those cricket orchestras. They really need to step up their game. Expand the strings section, maybe.

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  3. I love this kind of writing, Dale. It’s so real and flows without effort. When we can get past our inhibitions and freely connect with our emotions, magic happens (I suppose I should say my, but I see this happen to others as well).
    If you write poetry, you are a poet. In this case, a good one. Letting go is the hardest part. Well done.

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    • So do I, Bill. And it’s the type of writing I wasn’t doing anymore because of that self-imposition that I wrote about the other day. Other day? Two weeks ago!
      I don’t know how many pieces ended up in drafts only to be tossed because I had put them aside to do a challenge and then the moment was lost. No longer.
      I amazed myself, quite frankly. I grabbed my phone and dictated everything that crossed my mind and ended up copying it here with but a few adjustments.
      And I thank you, truly. I admire your writing, so receiving these kind words means mucho to me.

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  4. A very poignant moment in time, Dale. Thanks for sharing it. Yes, that is her, and yes, you can call yourself whatever you want. Those G&Ts sounded so good I would have like to be there to share them with you. Of course, then I might have interrupted the poignant moment. πŸ€—

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    • Thank you so much, Ina. I was in such a groove last night, I decided to dictate it onto my phone as I knew that the time it took me to go back inside and settle, it would be gone!

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  5. This felt like I was right there beside you, watching the night unfold (and perhaps the gin and tonic do their job…). I’m so glad you wrote this. Thanks for taking you along. And … yeah, you a girl, but not ‘just a girl’ – lots more than ‘just’. …
    Your NYNF

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  6. As I lie here wishing
    For something else
    Then what is

    ……..best three lines ever, sad but still the best lines ever….the poet in me probable would have repeated the piss out these, when you have a hammer in your hand you swing like one

    As I lie here wishing
    For something else
    Then what is
    ……..best three lines ever

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  7. Hey, just the smell of gin, and I see stars. I don’t even have to be outside. I could be in the bathroom, changing into one of my super hero outfits…. the one with the stars on it!
    Girl, I still use it, in sentences such as; I do believe I’ve lost my girlish figure.
    I think we should be able to use it!!!!! Hey, what if we made it our own? You know, like adding a letter to it… Girlf …… OR …. Girlq …… OR …. Girlp?
    You ARE a poet! ⚑️πŸ’₯

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  8. Q

    This was a beauty of a piece. And it’s how it goes, that peace of mind that allows you to calm the words and tranquil a thought into being. As was my habit for too many years, the uninhibited part that was teased into being by a friendly beverage led to some fascinating writing. It’s the Hemingway method!



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