Sometimes I think
if it was the right place
the right time
the right musicians
with the right instruments
the right singers
the right song
a song everyone knew
a song everyone loved
If some came together
and played and sang
perhaps everyone who heard it
would sing along
perhaps children would dance
war would be unimaginable then
all would be united
all would be one voice
music would make it impossible
to let anyone starve
to let anyone come to harm
to let anyone be naked or unloved
I feel my clearest
playing, singing
listening, hearing
and dancing like a child
clear of worry, of concern
being part of a greater whole
a song, a song, sweet and melodious
a song, poignant and forlorn
a song, sweeping across the universe
a song, stirring and strong
and the light from the stars
no matter how far away
would be brightened
clarified, illuminating
sometimes when I sing
I want the world
dressed as they are
to sing with me
just one song
one endlessly long song

Judith A. Sears

…for Christmas wishing December 2018

Do you suppose if there was a universal Flash Mob, a world wide Haka that we could all finally know freedom and peace? Naw I guess some of us have work to do, a living to earn, etc. Can’t just sing all day.

An apple left to grow too long
clinging to the strongest limb
has seen bushels of his brothers gone
picked by a group of men.

Others of his kin now rest
with leaves beneath the tree
gone soft and brown and rotten
tempting mostly furious bees.

November frost has left its dust
on our tenacious apples cheek
December snow and rains we trust
leave apple sealed in ice and weak.

Perhaps it dreams of applesauce and pies
of cobblers and crisps
perhaps it listens to the lies
of crows and will-o-wisps.

This harvest missed our apples kiss
the cider that less sweet
our family gathering is such bliss
Thanksgiving remains a treat.

As for that trees lone apple
all weathered dry and worn
perhaps his direst battle
is to witness blossoms born.

Apple, don’t listen to the will-o-wisps
but heed the advice of crows
one will lead you far away
the other will take you home.

Judith A. Sears
©11/17/2018

I wanted a day off
from everything else
I wanted focus
not wasted time
I didn’t need to feel held
but feel near enough
to sense some warmth
not steal it all
not trade my chill
no one wants
to be so so vacant
yet here is my empty hand
in that moment
our connection
soft as it was
got lost in clenched fingers
that ended in fists
stuffed in our pockets
feeling loose change
and a random twisted dollar
wanting something more
like a hand
to hold mine
or an interesting whispered word
to distract me.

Judith A. Sears
©11/15/2018

Setting: An exclusive Bistro featuring French cuisine, it is late evening.
Encounter: Feddie and Ashsa – (possibly a first date) occurs after he has asked his contractor to assign the man who ruined her days work to be her assistant (she has discovered she likes her new assistant) and before he has read the journal from her childhood.

…she (Ashsa aka “insignificant tile girl” is restoring an elaborate mosaic in Federic’s home, (the Ivers Compound)) is trying to overcome her nervousness in this unfamiliar place with this intimidating man
,,,he (Feddie aka Federic has hired the contractor who has employed Ashsa) is aware of her nervousness but brushes it off as absurd, unimportant.

He has a serious look on his face as he studies the menu. Then, as he looks up and finds her staring in fascination, he smiles. It washes across his face and splashes up into his eyes leaving them liquid with delight. It’s all sweet and fine until it becomes something else, something that looks more like desire, desire tinged with the promise of passion, passion so tangible that it steals her own smile and turns it all shy and makes the soft skin of her cheeks blush. He is not quite sure what to think about her reaction. Women usually respond to him one of two ways, either with a knowing nod or a disgusted almost fearful refusal.

In the next moment he has to ask what she wants and she has to close her eyes and take a slow breath before she answers trusting that the real question was about food and not so much about what she is feeling. However, when she opens her eyes and sees him watching her like some enchanted rogue she only wants to excuse herself and escape to the powder room. But his predatory instincts have already taken over and he has her by the hand. It should have been easier to watch her small hand in his large warm hand rather then keep looking into his eyes. But his fingers thread with her fingers and it seems to have locked her in place. She dares to look up, feeling slightly frantic, takes a short breath and after a quick glance of the menu answers. “I believe I’ll have the Cassoulet.” relieved to see the meaty bean dish among the other unknown French dishes. The only other one she recognized was the Escargot and she couldn’t bring herself to order snails.

She realizes that his face looks pleased and a little surprised. “So what are you having?” she feels bold enough to ask, until he drags her hand across the table and up to his mouth. He doesn’t have to say it out loud she knows his answer is “You.”

Eyes wide and having already learned that trying to twist away from his grip doesn’t work, she stays perfectly still. It only takes a moment for him to realize that he has frightened her again. Lowering his hand, but still holding hers, he summons the Maitre D’ with his free hand and gives their order.

“So, my insignificant tile girl are we going to consider this our first date?”

“I work for you, how can this be a date?” she responds.

At first he shakes his head, “No.” then he nods “This is a date.”and his smile washes over his face again and she feels like she’s floating. Tethered, he looks down at their joined hands and feels her hold on his tighten.