By: Angela Prendergast
Have I told you?
Those Lancaster nights changed me.
The boy in the red mustang —
You knew I grew to hate that car —
Proved more interesting
of running through cemeteries
to escape trouble
A well-behaved, class act
disguised under flat brim hats and endless “swagger”
A sweet smile;
a flood light in the rain
More thrilling than nights spent in deafening, crowded corners of the dullest, dingy downtown bars.
You, by far, were my biggest jump to safety–
Colliding with expectations and dreams
Thank you for remaining steady in my most uncertain moments.
First World Problems.
An idea omitted and replaced with affinity towards identical thinking.
Established through the perception of others.
Terminology that has been joylessly expunged from souls, replaced with envy and greed.
A subject caught up, lost, and drifted away like stubborn waves of the sea.
A word gone to hibernate for the winter, never to return from its gloomy cave.
Gained from ownership of material items, manifested through flashy colors and gaudy gadgets.
These ideals of the present are the demise of our future.
Here is a sonnet I wrote about the sun. I hope you enjoy.
A sonnet by Angela Prendergast.
Morning, gleaming bright, blinding
The middle child of the great beyond
Darkness drifts away in fright
Summer flowers; delicacy grows so fond.
Soundless, it rises and falls
Squinty eyes, liquid tears below
A march of the day, standing tall
Kisses all, from friend to foe.
Bright, bold, beacon of hope
An endless cycle to return
Lambent, luminous; all awoke
Steady, lessons for each child to learn.
More than the size of this sphere; fervent, bold
You allow human life to behold.
Today is a rainy day in PA. Thinking back to brighter times. I am so thankful for my followers and this lovely writing community. Xoxo. Much LOVE.