Revenge of the Middle - Aged Woman by Elizabeth Buchan

(I'm finally doing my first ever book review!  :})

Lately, I had been reading lots of novels about 'middle age' coming of age and somehow it makes me appreciate better that love has no expiration or due date. In this book, Rose Llyod, is the epitome of a career woman who has managed to juggle her work and her family triumphantly (or so it seems). She is working as a literary editor (one of my dream jobs) while her husband Nathan deals with the cruel and manipulative (newspaper) side of the company. She tinkers in the their garden on weekends while her son and daughter are off to the university and relishes in the completeness of her life. But like all novels, her world completely crumbles, her marriage and work were a mess plus her beloved 16 year old cat Parsley died. 

This is a story of a woman who was hurt but finally moved on and showed everyone that being left for a younger woman can definitely be a door of opportunity for a better and sexier (thanks to the Parisian lingerie) you.

3 STARS

*Book cover from http://openlibrary.org

Apologies

When I first started blogging about my musings about love, relationships, heartaches and growing apart I felt so sure that I wouldn't run out of ideas. But lately nothing really struck me, it's as if my muse was on leave and left me scavenging for inspiration. I do not know if momentarily not writing about my quite sad forte is a good sign. I guess I was just so caught up with my new career that I failed to create new poems. Looking back to all my creations, I got a picture of the kind of person my works evoke: sad, lonely, pathetic. And I asked myself, was I really all that? No. Maybe I'm wrong. But I'd like to believe that my posts are only an outlet of a strong desire, of a powerful yearning of someone who looks forward to rosier days, someone who craves for all the things that I mostly write about.

To all my 11 followers and to those who visit my blog (from the Philippines and from other countries) thank you for taking a moment and reading a portion of my feelings. Thank you for understanding (I hope) that at times I have to do something to get things that I want and not just write about them. 

This is not a goodbye but rather an explanation for the short impasse that happened.

Please watch out for my upcoming posts.

*I hope I can start reviewing books this year! (cross fingers)

-MIGGY

Prayer

I cannot stand 

seeing you this way

In pain and hurting

I'll do everything

to take it away

but I don't know how

So right now

I ask God to please

give me your pain 

Let me suffer in your behalf

Let me cry your tears

*Image from journalofsacredwork

Pillows

I still smell you. Hmmm.

-

-

I woke up with your 

scent on (our) my pillows.

I knew we fell asleep together

because it is only with you that

I get to sleep this late and this safe.

Your arms around me promises me

a good night since that is all that I can ask.

You see, I'm afraid to ask for more. 

I don't want you to say no.

I will never be content with only this.

So I better muster my courage and ask,

Even if it means that this will be 

the last time I can smell you 

when I wake up.

-

- 

*Picture from 1.bp.blogspot.com

Held

-

-

I held the hand that is

 planning to let you go. 

It was dry and rough

 unlike the other that still

 remembers your love of long ago.

 I felt its frustration about you,

 of the way you always made

 sure that tomorrow will not

 come for the both of you.

 I heard its silent cry of

 goodbye and I grew sad.

 On the other hand,

 it was still hanging on,

 reminiscing celebrations

 and victories.

 The happy times linger

 like it doesn't want to live.

 I heard all the secret whispers

 at night and all promises made.

 Both hands wept.

 A catharsis of the highest order. 

A pill so that no one goes insane.

 I looked at the mirror and

 saw rivers of tears.

 I looked down and 

saw my hands clasped together,

 the other looking out

 for the other.

 A symmetry of giving up

 and holding on.

 The riddle of love.

-

-

*Picture from 4.bp.blogspot.com

I don't care!

This is stupid! but I really don't. Do you?

-

-

It's burning me all over again

Like it once did before;

And the days after that,

Searing my flesh with

Electric goosebumps

Fit to kill a man

Fit to kill me,

But I don't care;

I don't think;

I love.

-

-

*Picture from images.sodahead.com/blogs

To Better Days

Everything will come to pass.

-

-

Raindrops caress my skin 

the way you once did;

 cold and numbing,

 back then i thought

 your touch in time

 would make me warm;

 but  it never did,

 you talk about things

 you never truly understood

and blamed it on me 

when you got it all figured out;

I took a deep breath;

Psyched myself up that

there is nothing wrong

About being drenched .