Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

Little lilies grow,

Softly, white in pale moonlight.

Reaching for the stars.


Hiding from daylight

That curls little petals brown,

Just to fade away.


Like precious moon drops

Casting ripples in a stream.

Only to go still.




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Ghost of the Living

The step is a little slower,

The glimmer that once sparkled now a little dull.

Age has stooped the figure once so proud and tall.

When he speaks, its a little more softly

And the hands, worn with worry and work

Are now crooked from the pain.

The dark hair has turned ice white

But the fierceness still burns inside.

He’s still in there somewhere,

Even if he doesn’t always recall where.

The pain is now mostly ours,

For, now, only we remember.

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In the deepest recess

Where shadows hide,

The faded memories.

What tales are told

And reconstructed,

Tinged with sorrow.

Good-byes never said,

Nor ever wanted.

Both for living and dead.

That place that haunts us.


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Years of My Youth

They call it a crisis, middle age

But I see no crisis, just history.

The years to go equal those past

And now, with knowledge

We know it can’t forever last.


There have been heartbreaks, pain

And the years have begun to etch

Permanently upon the edges of my face.

But I can still look back, with just little sadness

At the years of my youth,

When the sun filled my heart with gladness.


The days of the impossible

Because there was no limit to my heart.

Chasing butterflies and other creatures

Or listening to the distant lark.

Laying in the grass and having not a care.

Waiting for the night, fireflies

And the moon’s luminous glare.


Yes, the days of dreams and possibilities

That once colored the years of my youth.

And though those dreams still live,

Nestled deep in my heart.

I find they are a little farther away

And years have grown us apart.


No, my friends, I tell you true,

I am not in crisis because I have aged

Though I am sure it looks it to you.

I merely think back longingly

At all that has come to pass.

The generations I have missed

And the dreams, yes, the dreams,

That have passed by a little too fast.


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Perfect shape, sitting

On the sidewalk where I roam

Fallen from heaven.


I stop and ponder

Wondering where you’ve traveled.

Only to fall here.


So small and precious

Founder of lakes and oceans,

Forming mighty stream.


Yet sitting here now,

Waiting for the clouds to fade,

In silent repose.

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The light of day fades

And I stand, staring at the sun.

Hues of pink, purple and orange

Cascading to the horizon.

The trees lose definition in the distance

As they become a dark mass.

Slowly, small pin pricks of light

Begin to dot the night sky.

And I stand under the canvas

Painted across the heavens.

Breathing deeply I feel the cold air

Immersing my lungs.

For that moment my burden sail,

Flying up to the night and the moon

And my mind floats freely.

For that moment

I am unbound from earthly chains

I soar among the lights of heaven.

And that makes all the difference.


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With Consideration

With Consideration

In order to make a point

The silent treatment.


With Consideration

Ignorance is not blissful

But is filled with pain


With consideration

Meaningless coming from you

When your hate is clear.


With consideration

So claimed, but none is given.


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