Photo courtesy of Pixabay.
A Tenuous Grasp
(c) 2017, Pamela Schloesser Canepa
My brave face only hides
The tears I swallow inside.
I will stay strong for you,
though fear is in my soul,
For I too, float, ungrounded
and I am without control.
I am praying for God’s help,
in guiding me and you,
for I am dodging life’s swift blows,
I don’t know what else to do.
One of my early WordPress posts…
By Pamela Schloesser Canepa
Anxiety, The Phantom copyright, 1.05.16
A windy night brings it. Bam!
The back porch door slams
And I’m left to wonder what is there
What glowing eyes in the night will glare?
I am like a child, four years old again,
My fear and imagination bends.
What hoodlum or phantom lurks here?
I sense something evil crouching near.
Gone is all hope of sleep.
I must be ready in case he leaps.
“He” is my fear of things unseen,
Politicians and terrorists threatening me,
Bills, undone tasks, that won’t let me free,
Narrow minded people judging me
Worry for my son, in his melancholy
TV news feeding branches of my anxiety.
Things that make me think I have no weapon,
Realities that happen, with or without mention.
My canine detects no offending thief,
And only morning daybreak brings relief.
pamelascanepa 