Cherry Wishes

There is a new year on the horizon and wishes clamoring to be born. Sometimes special ones hang like cherries on a tree,

the best and biggest,

 all round and glossy and winedark with juice, 

 seem to always 






But these are wishes I would make for you anyway…

There will be bad times along with the good, 

and dark days with the bright.

I would wish for you the knowledge that all this passes and that light is the one thing the blackness flees,

and my cherry wish would be that you have a friend to remind you of that and to sit warmly next to you

and hold your hand when its dark.

The next wish is that you take pleasure in what you do and that you can love whatever that is without the adulation of others.

There will always be people seeking to knock you down, and I hope and make another cherry wish that you will always have a friend waiting at the bottom with a pillow. And a kleenex.

Being different is sometimes hard, being alone is sometimes easier…

But a cherry friend is the best of both worlds

 quiet and loud 

pushy and soft like white sand. 

A cozy comfort and a bee sting to get you running when you need to move along.

I wish you the sunwarmed fruit of this kind of love,

this friending, and place for it to grow.

And glad times that stain your lips and fingers 

with this special messy kind of magic.

This, above all, I wish for you.

My cherry friend.



About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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4 Responses to Cherry Wishes

  1. kamilica2002 says:

    Reblogged this on kamilica2002 and commented:
    Through this beautiful poem reblogging from chimerapoet in Chimera Poetry I pass the same wish to a man I love.

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