Alone is not lonely
And single’s no sin.
Solo is only
a state I am in
because I need time
to do what I do.
To scan and to rhyme,
to create and to stew
both poems and soups
without watching the clock
or jumping through hoops
or having to talk.
I really like cooking
dishes for one.
I’m simply not looking
for “coupley” fun.
I like doing art
far into the night.
This freedom is part
of traveling light.
Going solo is groovy.
Single-handed is fun,
and it might behoove you
to try being “one”
instead of a brace
or a duet or pair.
You’ll have all this space.
You’ll have all this air.
Your closet’s your own
to fill up with shoes.
No sharing a phone
and no bathroom queues.
You won’t have to fiddle
with left or with right.
You’ll sleep in the middle
every night!
You’ll eat what you want to
and dine when you wish.
You’ll get to eat tofu
and never eat fish.
You can stay up till dawn
to finish your quilt.
You’re nobody’s pawn,
so you’ll never feel guilt.
Leave coffee cups sitting
all over the house?
It’s behavior most fitting
when bereft of a spouse.
Pop bonbons and read
all day in your bed.
You can meet every need
when you’re no longer wed.
On the other hand though,
you must walk your own dog
and when water comes slow,
must unclog your own clog.
When you blow out a fuse
and your lawn goes unmown,
there are no “honey do’s”
when you’re all on your own!
For LAPC: Alone
I wrote this poem 9 years ago when I had about 2 readers –one of whom has sadly passed away and the other who no longer blogs, so figured it was okay to run in through again.
I love it! ❤️❤️❤️
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Maybe true, but you must admit that those warm hugs, and “I love you” is missed among all the many other nice parts having someone to live with, like a warm body next to you at night in that large bed~!
(Lonely Sam)
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Agreed, Sam..
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This is fantastic! You are such a talented writer.
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[image: happy and single.JPG] Happy and playing the field, 1955
A TIME FOR EVERYTHING
There is a time to be young a time for a new friend. A time to having the fun thinking it never will end.
A time for puppy love and a time to get serious. Love as close as a glove, togetherness making you delirious.
But the desire of multiplicity house mates may be deleterious, preferring the simplicity of just being gregarious.
Then a time to get serious no longer a desire to be alone when that person mysterious brings warmth into your home.
So count your blessings we were not meant to be alone, when that loved one is missing and you find that they are gone.
SAM
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I think we’ve both learned that you have to make the most of how fate and circumstance choose to alter your situation…
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AMEN, Judy! The down side took some adjusting to for me, but all things considered, it’s a no-brainer. If you get lonely once in a blue moon, there are always “friends with benefits.” The furbabies can keep you warm, and you can hire out the rest.
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I think we go through a lot of experiences in our lives–some chosen by us and others by fate. It was not my first choice to move to Mesico alone. The choice was made to move here with my husband, but then fate changed the plot…and I went with it. Surely, my chice would have been for Bob to live here with me, but that was not to be.
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You’ve made a lovely oasis of creativity where you are and lots of good friend connections. Who really could ask for more?
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I agree.. I feel fortunate.
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There are advantages to being single — although I sometimes feel it would be nice to have people to talk to! You definitely have reworded my mantra that “alone-ness is not the same as loneliness”! I love this poem!
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Well and succinctly put, Janet. I am by no means a hermit. I have lots of company and lots of friends but when I think of it, I’ve spent most of my life living alone and have never felt lonely doing so. It was circumstance, not choice, but I am a great believer in doing the most with what one presently has.
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Yep. Sometimes I think “Where did I go wrong?” but then I think, “You didn’t. You’re happy. I guess you went right.” 🙂 Besides, who’d have me? (that’s a punchline to a joke about an Irish couple who never married but were engaged for 40 years or something) ☘️
Och, Diarmaid, would ye be thinkin’ we should marry?”
“Aye, Maureen, but who’d have us?”
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A wonderful quote!
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Ha!!!!
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I love your poem and agree that being alone doesn’t makes you lonely, rather it let’s you be yourself.
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Well put, Sadje.
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👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼
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🤤So far from this feeedom. But oh, the sound of little feet. 💜
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Yes… children are wonderful and I’ve had a lot of them in my life. I married a man with 8 children and four of them were small. Two lived with us and the others visited… and I loved my sister’s children and grandchildren as well.
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Oh wow. I feel like I have 100 new children each year as a Teacher. But silence, yes, the silence is such a treat.
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I was a teacher for ten years and yes, it is like having a new crop of kids each semester.
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GREAT poem. 👍
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Thanks, John…
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The state of ambivalence well described. Your newer readers will not have seen all your earlier posts before
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Even I don’t remember them! Ha.
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You write it so well – the dilemma. Joy with some difficulties, freedom and dependence…I am grateful to have my husband still here, but being married for 45 years takes a great deal of diplomacy. For the last ten years we have done what we want to do on our own, but still live together. Life is too short not to follow some of your dreams.
And I love your desk – is that a painting of yours?
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That is a painting a friend saw me admiring in an art show and she bought it for me!!! So sweet.
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A lovely friend!♥
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Very clever Judy. There are pros and cons to everything. The trick is focusing on the right side of the ledger!
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I can relate to this almost 100%, enjoyed it so much
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Clever and fun. I am glad you shared it again! lol. I can relate to a bit of that with my husband being deployed for years. When he would return…it was to my space. And we always figured it out again.
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I like what this poem says but even more how you said it–the cadence and rhyme really work together.
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Thanks very much!!!
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Thank you, Judy, as your poem has me reflecting and relating, touching my heart and soul.
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Thanks Nomad. oxox
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