Rejoicing in their Reunion

Gem of the days has arrived!
Heartache has ended.
Her firstborn son has flown home
To the beautiful land to join his family
From the island oversea where
She was born and grew on a coffee farm.

Grateful, she praises God.
‘Land of brave’ seems so right.
Big apple and strangers
Appear sweet and kind.

Her mind overflows with
Dreams and plans,
To achieve ‘Land of oppottunity’
Alive.
In their reunion I rejoice.

©Byung A. Fallgren

Until Only thing to give is Love

‘Watch for him, could you?’
‘For how long, Son?’
‘Three weeks or so.’
Grandpa turns to me for my approval.
I feel my face lit as if by a campfire of night.
‘Weather should be travel-friendly.’

I help Little Son get dressed and feed him
Grandpa waves to Little Son as he gets on the school bus.
I clean the house and do the laundry, fighting heel pain.
Grandpa helps me with shopping, despite the joint pain then
At the bus stop he waits for Little Son coming home.
On the weekend, Grandpa needs to take care of Monsters at home.
Grandpa, Little Son, Big Son, and me take a road trip.
I frown at the storm cloud.

Against the windshield splash big drops,
Then it down pours.
On the road pile up softball hails.
Celestial winter game in August!
Vehicles are coward turtles, creeping over to
The shoulders, waiting for it stop, except
Big Son braves to crawl through the hailstorm.

‘Wait as others do, Son,’ I squeak.
His eyes fixed on the road, Big Son is a quiet soldier.
After infinite-hour, the hail stops.
From afar the turtles begin to follow then zoom by.
Big Son keeps it within speed limit.

The Monsters at home are taken care of.
Little Wife has returned from her trip. Duty-free,
We, old couple bid the children goodbye until next time:
‘If life plays like the weather, to give is only love.’

 

© Byung A. Fallgren

Love Never Gets Old

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Watching the grandson
Romps ’round the park,
Grandpa turns again five.
When the child pauses
At the end of the tunnel slide,
Grandpa and Little son’s mind
Merge in one and imagine
the day of birth. Canal

Appeared to be glowing
As he made the final exit.
Loud hellos,
Laughters,
Soft swaddling and kiss…

Over six decades are
Condensed in five years,
Even after his dreams vanished
With autumn leaves,
He still has one clings to him–
Love–that grows against time.

 

©Byung A. Fallgren

Let the Children Sing

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As August rolls near the end
Joy follows. Joy of Grandson starts
The kindergarten. The sunbeam echoes
The elation in the child’s heart with each step
Up the stairs. Blessing. Encouraging.
Smile vanishes with the yellow bus turns
The corner street and out of the sight.
Memory of panicked voices,
Smell of unthinkable,
Sneaky glooms;
Is September at the threshold
with an armful of snowstorm?
Head shakes, No.
Bless the child! Pray.
In the deep of the Granny’s moment,
The child smiles.
Outside, crickets imitate the children’s song.
Let them sing. Always!

© Byung A. Fallgren

 

Criticism, Not for the Old Couple

Like a deep river we appear to be
Slow and placid,
We seldom say ‘I love you,’
For we know we do after
All theses years together.
We may not kiss and hug in public
But for each other we worry and care
More than the skin-deep touch.

How ignorant to say:
‘They are not all the way up there.’

Nearly half a century of marriage
Means nothing to you?
Going through the thick and thin of
Thorny path that long means nothing to you?

No one can go that road for decades
Without love!

We deserve some respect more than
You ever know.

Only the rude and shallow streams
Dare to criticize the deep old river.

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©Byung A. Fallgren