December Rain

Second week of December

It is forty degrees

This December it now rains

Thankful I still see

Whilst I look through these old windows

To watch December rain

Why must my ears ring so loudly?

They hear not the rain

My silence, there is no silence

Not hearing the rain

Falling like the tears from my eyes

So humble I have always walked

Softly now must I humbly step

My soul not so quiet

Like the angels’ voices on high

Talk softly to me, if you would

Do not hurt my ears

Some sounds I wish not to hear

My soul remains still

Still, my soul makes the joyful noise

i-freebird Sheryl PS

© 2015

Her Days, Though Numbered, Are Too Many

Today she finds yet another painful lump under her skin along with another painful lymph node.
Today is yet another day like too many of which she peels away all four patches of an electrical nerve stimulator.

Today is one too many a day of the typical, morning in which she wakes, swallows a lot of prescription meds and does not concern herself with what she will wear, fashion sense, or even combing her hair.
Today the Lidoderm patches become the fashion accessory that adorns her body, almost everywhere.
She wonders why time doesn’t feel as tough it is working against her.
Quietly she whispers to herself she that she wishes time would hurry on and get to the point it will carry on, without her.
She is not suicidal.
She is just low on distractions from all the physical pain and sorrowful memories that rob her of her natural energy and enthusiasm.
She feels much older than she really is.

She is tired of all the doctor appointments
Today, yet another day to many, in all the pain, she wonders “What UN-willed transformations are next for me?”
Just as the tears slowly fall from her failing eyes and drench the patchy dry skin on her face, a lovable creature she resides with brushes up against her.
There is warm, loving embrace of which she is relieved by.
She is able to feel happy again.
Today is another day alright.
She always has strength for a loved one, one of the many she loves so much.
One of the now few distractions that help her strive to fight to survive.
There is communication between them that is without words. While her last tear falls and her cheek dries there is, through warm and loving eyes, that deep gaze full of a comfort that is almost surreal, almost omniscient.
She whispers to herself,
“I will see and feel such a gaze even if lost becomes the sight from my eye.”
Melatonin begins out doing the pain signals in her brain, and is all her precious loved one, her pet, ever wanted.
Today is yet another day of this life on a path not chosen, still she tries to acclimate.

Today, like every day, she gives thanks to loving pets, her loving Husband, and even more so, to a loving God. She is so humbled. She can feel the smile growing slowly on her face in place of the tears. She is thankful that she is here in this moment. For a while she still, both outside and in.
Today, like any other day, she has found her strength within.
She reaches out to touch others with prayer and support.
Most of them have not even the slightest clue that,
From her heart and soul she does this and she believes this is what she should do.
She feels she must do something now that there is not much she can do.
Today is yet another day that all of this is her mental and spiritual rescue.
Tonight she writes in her journal.
“Today was another day alright.”
“Today was another day and it was all right.”

i-freebird / Sheryl Platzer-Sartin



To Wit the Wonder


But oh,

Do not those of us who are wise know?

We would rather not know of some things.

Some things we are better off not knowing.

Prey, tell?

What about those things we learn that we do not wonder of?

The realities of the prices paid without hope, faith, and Divine Love

What of the minds we do not want to read?

The un-righted wrongs, stories untold, and unheard songs

 What about the ugly premonitions that plant in our minds a seed?

There is only Divine plan in what we foresee

One answer

The resolve of that which be

What of all the unCouth from fed misperception and un-truth?

To wit to wonder

To wonder to wit

There are those times we wish we knew none of it

Although sometimes we may only pity thee

We will be the answer when it is time for us to be

–          Sheryl Kay Platzer-Sartin 

           Copyright © 2013

            i-freebird ®

*Photo Art from:

Time Defined

In a landfill of distraction
So full of meaningless attraction
Clear the clutter away
Detain every moment
Seek and arrest that which will not stay

Remnants of memories sublime
Are like sands in the hourglass
Slowly slipping away with time
To age-old change, reluctantly give in
The best of memories slowly wearing thin

Look long into the photograph
Look longer and deeper into the mirror
At what’s becoming foggy and grey
That which is behind us slowly fades away

Time is an abyss

Memories of old slip slowly into the distance
Turn away now from the mirror
To face the deadline of existence

– Sheryl K. Platzer-Sartin

 © 2011

All Rights Reserved

Such high expectation of you
A feeble moment

A knock at a door never answered
This I have come to expect

All Rights Reserved

In essence
I should have known
I just thought that I
Well I didn’t think it would hurt to try
I led myself to believe a lie
I guess I …
Mistook a reflection of you

How could I have misread a truth that has always been said?

Was it really so much to ask?

When it seems as though someone just might be nice, I will forever think twice

All Rights Reserved

I’ll never give a thought to such again, ever, at all

From here, where I am, the kindness that is humanism rarely comes to call

I should have known, now I know what to expect

All Rights Reserved

How typical, how genuine of you
Your act, your reflection
I should have seen through

Sad but true
Believe you of me, I’m sorry I ever asked a favor of-that I ever bothered…

A humble reminder to never be like you

For this, I have you to thank

All Rights Reserved

– Sheryl K. Platzer-Sartin

Copyright © 2011

      i-freebird ®

Night Owl Calling

1:01 a.m the night is strangely still.

I lie awake listening to the song of the night owl calling outside my bedroom window

In repetition the night owl is calling, calling, calling
I have not heard my name
Yet I am not listening for it

Night… owl… Good… night owl

– Sheryl K. Platzer-Sartin

      © 2011

Silver and Gray

Long, strong silver and gray, gray and silver you come,
un-announced, for now, you are un-welcomed a flip, a toss, salt and pepper. A flip, a toss your buried, hidden, but not for long. Now there is almost no hiding your shimmer. Will you look good on me when stronger in number? Will it be decided that the every wire-like strand of you be camouflaged, disguised as the original until accepted, as distinguished, as a sign of wisdom? My long stare into a mirror, bowing and turning my head. You silver and gray, gray and silver are like a season that never ends. You are the winter, long and harsh, until the day you are, at last, accepted.

– Sheryl K. Platzer- Sartin  © 2011

Tomorrow and Today

As the day ends And I lay here in bed my mind wonders once again I think about things I did I think about things I said I think about things I seen I think about things tomorrow may bring

Will it bring joy? Will it bring anger? Will it bring pain? Will it bring sorrow? Or maybe I’ll lay in bed thinking again of tomorrow

What if tomorrow brought my end Then I wonder what things I’ll be thinking of then Will it be regret? Will it be content? Will it be something I forget?

And if I forget Was it important to figure it then? Or maybe I should think of something else instead?

Maybe of food Or maybe I’m full Maybe of fun Or maybe something dull

Maybe a tune or a sweet lullaby To put me to rest and ease my mind Maybe I’ll stop Maybe I’ll close my eyes Maybe I’ll stop thinking altogether At least till next time Maybe no next time Maybe this is just it As the day ends And I lay here in bed…

When I think of what tomorrow brings

Am I thinking of one too many things?

In a comfortable place my head I lay

I should be grateful for this

And the simple things anyway

If thinking of what tomorrow brings

Is thinking of one too many things

Then I shall think of what I did today

Did it matter, if not to me,

Then to someone else anyway?

Looking back on how this day had begun

Have I made a difference to anyone?

Well, I must have faith

And Remember to pray

And to thank the Lord for  my waking to face each new day

This I’m sure will start  tomorrows off right anyway

– By My Son, Auroiah B. Morgan, and me, Sheryl K. Platzer-Sartin

                                                                                                                      Copyright © 2011                                                                                                               

Writers Block


My blood runs colder
With every written word
For my creativity is somehow stifled
And the voice in my writing
Goes for now un heard
I get a real strong chill
When my soulful creativity
I cannot fulfill
My soulful creativity is like a contract to which I am bound
But now I find myself stifled
By those I am around
And food for soulful expression
Is getting harder to be found
Thus, my soul is not truly free
And its my soul that makes up almost all of me
This life really takes toll
When my soul doesn’t feel whole
I Just gotta keep this writers block
From weakening my souls clock

– Sheryl K Platzer-Sartin Copyright © 2008