LIFE POEMS

Glittering dark, dancing
Before my eyes, closed
Everything I see, shadowed
In roaring silence
I hear
Falling
A feather
Soundless, a brush
My lovers touch
Bitter, life's bile
Sweet, love's taste
Shadows of tomorrow
Darken the path of yesterday
What was will not be
What is, stands
Before my eyes, open
My life

The Brand New Day
by LesA47

At dawn, through my opened window,
I gazed upon a breathless,
And heart-stopping sight.

On the horizon in front of me,
Appeared an aurora of mystical lights,
Reflecting deep into the cavities and,
Ridges of the surrounding mountains.

Before me shown the early light,
Penetrating the morning mist,
As it caused perpetual golden rays
To illuminate through the highest
Mountain peaks,
Awakening the earth below.

As I peered closely,
Brilliant colors of light
Stretched upward,
Like fingers on a hand
Into the yet, dawning sky.

Oh, as I gazed at this precious sight,
Time itself seemed to be waiting,
And wanting to grasp hold of
The first beams, that would burst forth
From the East and to witness,
The suns smile beckoning
"The Brand New Day. "

A Hummingbird Spoke To Me One Day
by Dee Dee Brough

Years ago, one summer
I came upon a little hummingbird,
no bigger than my thumb.
As it fluttered about a flower
in search of sweet nectar,
I stood, frozen in time, and
was mesmerized by its grace.
I'm not sure why,
or what compelled me,
but I ran inside
to get my brother's BB gun.
As I raced back to my prey,
I did not think
of my actions, or
of consequences, or
regret.
But only of the thought,
"I wonder if I can get it with one shot?"
At that moment, it turned to me
as if to say,
"What a beautiful creature.
so full of life, and
love, and
compassion.
It is a wonderful day to be
alive!"
But I did not listen.
Instead, intent on my mission,
I aimed, and
pulled the trigger.
And in one thoughtless moment,
a tiny lifeless body lay before
me.

I am now thirty- eight years old.
And since that summer of my youth,
A thousand memories and regrets
I have.
And one that haunts me still
is a small one.

If only . . . I had listened with my heart.

Late Night Red Light
by Josh Barrett

There's no one around, no one to care.
Yet still, I sit and stare, in apprehension, fear, and excitement
at the luminous red orb above.

Ahead lies darkness.
The left and right are less ominous but quite possibly as dangerous.
The well lit, cliffside roads of yesterday and yesteryear are all that
occupy my rearview mirror.
There's no one around, no one to care.
Yet still, movement is something I dare not dare.

A Book Of Memories
by Kathleen Sheppard

Hidden in the attic,
all the way upstairs,
is something very special,
that I would like to share.

My hopes,
my dreams,
old photographs,
of good times and bad times that make me laugh.

The joy of a hug,
the thrill of a kiss,
leaves me to remember the pure, simple bliss.

I cry for the fun,
and giggle for the pain,
I enjoyed the good life I was able to maintain.

The thoughts and wishes,
they all stay with me,
all of these contained in my book of memories.

No One Seems Tall Anymore
by Crystal Doerges

Heave drops contain weak acid
Small bridges fall hard
Reality is distant from searching eyes
And no one seems tall anymore
I've not caught up
But only grown accustomed
To the true features
Of people

Stars
by Midnight

lazy days
lonely nights
looking for a lonely star
who'd keep me company

looking at the widespread sky
being me a lonely soul
gazing at the moon so bright
making wishes `pon a star

a blow of breeze
to animate
the freezing scene

so the strings of white gold ribbons
seem to tease the lonely moon
because it is standing still
and they are free to move

"twinkle twinkle little star . . . "
I used to sing when I was young
now I've grown but still today
" . . . how I wonder what you are"

lying down upon the meadows
dream of flying up so high
reach the stars, sit on the moon
dancing ballet with the clouds

What's It Like?
by Sheryl Howard

Mama, what's it like to be in love?
Oh, Mama, won't you tell me,
what's it like to me in love?
Is it the way my face gets red
every time he looks at me?
Is this the way that love feels?
Why do I suddenly want to
wear lipstick and perfume?
Do you think he'll notice me?
Mama, help me with my hair.
It has to be perfect today.
Mama, does this make me look fat?
Does this make me look like a kid?
Oh, Mama, why should I care?
Mama, guess what happened!
He talked to me today,
told me I dropped my pencil.
Oh, Mama, isn't that great!
Is this what it's like to be in love?
Oh, Mama, won't you tell me,
is this what it's like to be in love?

Poems on Life
Which Do You Choose?
by Amanda Van Ast

I ask myself whether I want to be
As open as a rose fresh and fragrant
or to be hard and cold like a rock
That weathers all that comes.
For an open rose is thrown into
A weathering storm torn and shredded it shall be.
While a rock can be hit by lightning,
Rolled by thunder, blown by wind, and poured upon
Yet it dries and seems to be unharmed.
Some say you can't be charmed?
While others are only harmed.
For I do not know any answers
I only have the questions in my mind
Those of which swirl like the sand
In the middle of the Sahara Desert.
For I do not know which I favor
The rose or the rock.


Windows
by Donovan Holtz

Across the headlands
The forest masses
Under gray skies
And mist
Into a solid wall
Of muted gray
Through which cars
Glide skirting noiselessly
The rocky edge.
Through a window
I watch, windows are
For watching -
Square pieces of life
Ever changing.

Within Me
by Kathleen Sheppard

Scarlet lips as red as a rose,
perfect hips in a seductive pose.
On the outside this is what I may be,
but what about looking at the heart within me.

Long black hair, surrounding my face,
baby blue eyes and full of grace.
This is what most men chase,
but my soul and feeling cannot be erased.

Long, untouched legs with a snug fitting skirt,
a short and sexy tube top shirt,
I take my looks with little pride,
for what I care about is what's inside.

They say that these looks are a sensation,
that I am one of God's best creations,
But all I really want is for you to see,
all the good that is within me.

Crazy!
by Mindy Carpenter

Suckers that turn on there own,
Dolls that cry and moan.
Cars that you do not pedal,
I am not trying to meddle.

Our kids are getting lazy,
Some of these toys are just plain crazy.
These people only caring about the mind,
Not caring if the kids are good or kind.

Yes, it is good to play,
But why not do it nature's way?
Our children need to be strong,
Some of the things we are doing is quite wrong.

Hindsight
by Tina K

I'm trying to find my days gone by
My sunsets and my trees
I'm trying to find my happy days
When my soul was light and free

I'm searching for my fairy tale
My once upon a time
I'm searching for that long ago
When joy and youth were mine

I'm following my trail of tears
To dances in the rain
To hills of hope and tenderness
Of bitterness and pain

I'm opening every sealed- up door
To see what I might find
And oh, the view revealed to me
The springtime of my mind

And once again I'll run and laugh
In my own Elysian field
To memories so close and dear
I gratefully will yield


Another Day Has Dawned
by Kit McCallum

Amidst our chaos and confusion;
Amidst our anguish and despair;
Amidst our never-ending questions and blame;
… Lies a world of lessons.

Through our tears and astonishment;
Through our hopelessness and depression;
Through our anxiety and grief;
… Lies a world of shame.

For it is our world that is responsible;
It is our world that allowed this sadness;
It is our world that has lost its youth;
… And it is our world that needs to change.

It is a warning for those who would isolate it;
It is a warning for those who would bury it;
It is a warning for those who think it will not touch them;
… It is we, who need to address it.

For this is the birth of our own generation;
This is the birth of our own problems;
This is the birth of our own past mistakes;
… It is we, who needed to watch over them.

A new generation who have hopes and dreams;
A new generation who have life and laughter;
A new generation who deserve a chance at peace;
… It is we who need to make them secure.

It is time to stop talking in circles;
It is time to stop blaming and pointing;
It is time to stop questioning and guessing;
… It is time to accept the burden and act.

We are not blameless;
We are not above reproach;
We are not perfect role models;
… For we are the generation they emulate.

Look beyond your own your circle of life;
Look beyond your picket fences and chained doors;
Look beyond your own backyard;
… And admit your frailties and failures.

Did you not once look the other way?
Did you not once stay quiet when you should have spoken?
Did you not once say I cannot change it?
… Do you know that we can make a difference?

One small voice can begin to move mountains;
One caring gesture can begin to enlighten others;
One shoulder to lean on, can ease another’s pain;
… Did you know that you are that one?

Listen to those who are in jeopardy;
Listen to that small voice whispering that they are in trouble;
Listen to that child with the wayward, furtive glance;
… And be prepared to take part in their future.

For if you do not listen and talk;
If you do not participate and take responsibility;
If you do not guide and offer them your heart and wisdom;
… It is we, who will join in their misery.

It reaches beyond your own immediate children;
It reaches beyond their friends and peers;
It reaches beyond your nieces and nephews;
… For it is every child you come in contact with.

Positive action begins in our own backyards;
Positive action flows through your own neighborhood;
Positive action can encompass your own small town or city;
… And through this, we are all connected.

Be a mentor when others fail to counsel;
Be a counselor when others fail to listen;
Be a listener when others fail to notice;
… Be a positive experience with every child you meet.

For yesterday, someone looked the other way;
Yesterday, someone pretended they did not see;
Yesterday, someone passed by without offering help;
… But today, it is not too late.

Today, you can make a difference in someone’s life;
Today, you can offer your love and guidance;
Today, you can choose to be a positive influence for another;
… And then maybe, just maybe, our world will change with you.

The Last Summer
by Thomas

Once upon a summer's day
When I was just a child at play
I felt Time's gentle, loving touch
But did not think of it too much.

Later I realized we all run
A road that ends beyond the sun
And though we live in blinding light
We can't escape the darkest night.

I did not know when summers end,
On which schedule to depend,
For Life gave me no finish line
While Death gave me no warning sign.

"Tomorrow is another day."
Tomorrow came and passed away.
I feared that I had wasted, spent,
The greatest gift God ever sent.

But now that my last summer's here
I find myself devoid of fear
I wait with every labored breath
To gaze upon the face of Death.

For when this soul is fit for rest,
This soul will sleep where sleep is best,
For I will have no need for haste,
For I will have no time to waste.

Ode To My Killer
by Kelli

Before you shoot, look into my eyes,
Can you see the same fear you feel inside?
You may see me as someone who has it all,
But I have the same fears and hesitations after all.

I know your pain and what is tearing at you,
For I have the same self- conscious feelings too.
So before you shoot look deep and you may realize
You see a lot of yourself in my eyes.

Before you shoot, think and feel what would it be like,
To be on the other end of my strife.
Will taking from me ease your pain?
Or can we deal with this maybe some other way.

Before you shoot come into my heart,
Think of all your tearing apart,
My life is in your hands it’s true,
Do you really want this consequence tearing away at you?

Before you shoot or think that thought,
Tell me of your pain and what you’ve sought.
Maybe you’ll find someone you’ll treasure
You never gave me a chance to show what I have to offer.

I can only ask these things and it’s all up to you,
I have no power, which is what you wanted to do.
So now that you’ve got what you wanted to do,
Please think of these things before you shoot.

New Life
by Paul Bodet

I've been sitting around this life for years,
Not enough laughs and too many tears.
Trying to figure out where it all went,
These wasted years that I have spent.

Searching for something to go beyond,
Life's a stone skipping across a pond.
At the last skip, it hits with a splash,
Down the stone sinks, gone in a flash.

Pushing and pulling, it's tearing apart,
Poking and prodding an underused heart.
This dark velvet curtain that hides my soul,
Living this life has taken it's toll.

In a flash of bright light, the curtain is torn,
Tumbling down all tattered and worn.
Revealing new life, a child within,
Born free of hate, of suffering and sin.

Now my eyes see what has never been told,
Striving forth happy, confident and bold.
Into a world that's unfamiliar but friendly,
Into this new life my spirit will send me.

Living and laughing, loving it all,
I stood myself up and answered the call.
The darkness has gone, replaced by the light,
I gave up the darkness with hardly a fight.

I've been sitting around this life for years,
With laughter aplenty and hardly a tear.
Now I can see just where it all went,
Cherish every moment of this new life I've spent.

My Perfect World
by Dave Warren

bright shining lights
smiling faces
laughter
music

peace and love
timeless space
deep midnight conversation
meaningless chat

my friends close by
to need and be needed
to help and be helped
to listen

my perfect world
exists in me
you're welcome to visit
to stay
pull up a chair
and together
we can see it through

Hearts Lost
by Brenda Eckman

I was lost, lonely, and scared
and for some reason you came into my life.
I felt empty, I had nothing left to give.
But then your eagle became my angel
and gave my soul the wings to fly.
You were there, but now you're gone.

The Best Of Both Worlds
by Judy Burnette

The best of both worlds
That is what you said;
Yet if that statement is true
Why do I feel so bad?

I want some things I cannot have
To be someplace I cannot be;
There is sadness, memories, some tears
Deep inside of me.

I want to be with you
To see you standing outside my door;
Will I self destruct
By always wanting more?

Tonight I Dream, Tomorrow I Live
by Tin Nguyen

Ah! Do you dream at night?
Is a dream of light or twilight,
Of hope or of joy maybe?
I describe it as an escape,
A way of being happy
In a world we can entirely shape.

Ah! Did you dream last night?
Mystical powers at hand,
And energy replenished to the fullest.
In fact, you dream to rest
And live for a next sunlight.
Am I truly right
Or you don't understand?

Ah! Did you live today?
Watching, breathing and tasting
The merry life of each day.
Every element I'm sensing
Has a value to my humble heart.
Therefore I will be, for my part,
What I am destined to be.

Ah! Will you live tomorrow?
Know that there is always a way
Leading through our destiny.
See it, feel it you may
Staying on it won't be easy.
So, take my hand and follow.

Crossroads
by Xen0

A crossroad in life,
A time for change;
Of mind, body, and emotions.
Change for you, change for me,
Change for all the things I will be.

At one corner, there stands a child;
This child, nurtured from the world,
finds that there was always something holding it back;
A barrier to life,
a barrier to truth,
a barrier to overcome.

As an eagle struggling to break it's bonds,
the child breaks free and runs, never to return.
He runs from you -
runs to me,
Runs to all the things he wants to be.

To the West, there stands a teen;
A teen, who finds the world distorted,
an altered imaged from what it was
taught to believe in.
Is stranded;
Lost in the twisted morals of the world.

"Everything is different",
"This isn't what they said it was",
"Everything they taught me was wrong! "

The teen longs for acceptance,
for a place of refuge,
for people who'll understand him.
The teen is changing;
Changing from "you",
Changing into "Me",
Changing into all he will become to be.

As the teen searches, it is rejected.
An outcast among other teens,
an outsider among outsiders.
A single, lonely solitary figure;
A figure who can accomplish what others cannot -
to succeed in solitude,
to live his own life;
to escape the faces of the past:
Faces of you,
Faces of Me,
Faces of everyone I hoped to be.

Finis

By the time I realized it

Endure
by Bobi

If I can endure for this moment,
whatever is happening to me.
No matter how heavy my heart,
or how dark the moment may be.
If I can but keep on believing,
what I know in my heart to be true.
Then darkness will fade into morning,
and with this dawn a new day, too.

The Hollow
by Tammie Bonadona

Looking up from below
it's sketchy, but I can see
pieces of a person
that once belonged to me.

When I try to grab them,
they seem to fade away,
memories from a past I knew
but no longer have today,

Push yourself, so I've been told ,
be a mother and a wife.
You owe it to the ones you love
to sacrifice your life.

But what do you do when you're weary,
and you're tired and can't go on
to the hollow in the tunnel
your existence now belongs.

I long to do the things I see,
so each day I look above,
and try to reach the pieces
of the things I used to love.

They're there, then they're not,
so I rest my mind at ease,
to the hollow in the tunnel
that's become the life for me.

My Garden (The Danger Of Hate)
by John LeClare

I have a garden
I grow discord and hate
I feed my heart
From its bitter plate

My plants need no water
No tending
No care
They grow on my soul
Consume everything fair

They grow very strong
Spread very fast
Filling my being
My future
My past

Time
by Violet King

You wake up each morning
and you have in your purse 24 hours of Life.
It is yours!

No one can take it from you,
You cannot get into debt,
You cannot draw on the future,
You can only spend the passing moment,
You cannot waste tomorrow -
It is kept for you.

We shall never have any more time.
We have, and we have always had,
all the time there is at any given moment.

Spend it well.

Death To The Cattle
by Michael Casamassa

Every morning, that damned ritual begins
The walking dead, struggling for life
Broken souls that pollute the cold, damp air
Heading toward the tunnel, where there is no light

Man behind the booth's in charge of the tickets
Cheshire cat grin as he sees the line form
There's a perverse pleasure in watching others suffer
Swallowing one with feelings of joy and warmth

The stench of rotting flesh fills the station
Some vomit, others pass out, but no one cares
Coughin' up internal organs isn't an uncommon sight
It's truly quite a mess, but they stay there

That familiar rumbling can only mean one thing
The train has finally pulled in, to take them away
Screeching to a halt on the bones of the weak
Zombies stagger aboard to start their precious day

Conductor slams the spiked doors shut, with a fury
Most slip through, while others are torn to shreds
His shriek is deafening as he starts the train
Can't wait until tomorrow to do it all again

Eternal Question
by Christie White

What is this thing?
This thing that we all search for . . .
This thing that flies you to the
highest heavens, Only to send you
racing back to Earth
like a fallen angel.

This thing that cuts your soul like
the mighty Sword of Camelot,
Then nurses you back to health with
its healing touch.

This thing that creeps in the dark
and still of the night and steals
your heart and soul like a thief,
Only to return it to you battered
and torn.

Where is this thing we cannot see,
but know it's there?
Where did it come from and where
does it hide when it leaves?
Why do we hunger for something so
very elusive ad mysterious?

Where is it?
What is it?
What do we do with it, once found?
What do we do with ourselves once lost?

A Warrior's Face
by Mars

Spring waters flow,
Warmed by Father Sun,
Swelling beyond the keeping banks,
Leaching winter’s frosted ores,
Through spreading fingers,
Of the water’s course,
Renewing those, along its path,
That seem at first, to succumb,
Then emerge from the inundation,
With the strength of stamina,
And will to persevere,
Ultimately without complaint,
In understanding and appreciation,
Of the gifts of the tribulation,
As the water keeps its sacred task,
Cleansing Mother Earth,
Like the tears on a Warriors face,
Cleanse the soul.

The Old Chest
by Justice

I open the old chest
And what do I see
All of the things
That are special to me

Poems and stories
Pictures and such
All of the things
That mean so much

Things that remind me
Of good times and bad
Things that remind me
Of old friends I once had

Sometimes I wish
I could put my life in rewind
But I know I have to close the old chest
And leave the past behind

Lost Youth
by Bondy

Bouncy castles, slides and swings,
The park is full of exciting things.
Children laughing, running, at play,
In a carefree world they live in today.

Sun shines on invisible flowers,
Naked from their eyes for hours.
The smell of blossom, sweet to the taste,
Their senses of life, a terrible waste.

To grow up too soon, old before time,
Dream of days gone by play on your mind.
Sitting and wishing that you are they,
The children, laughing, singing, at play.

Prejudice
by Wag

To hear a voice cry in pain
not understanding.
To know the person inflicting the pain
loves deeply.

Why are two people torn apart?
Because of ignorance?
Fear?
A programmed reaction?

Because of something as simple as skin color.
Such a reaction!
It has been so long.
Will we ever be one?
I hope so.

Roses and Thorns
by Leah

The things that life consist of
includes both roses and thorns.

Some claims to have more briars
from the very day they were born.

There are those who enjoy roses,
whose life blossoms day after day.

They have not yet reached the thorns
that mark their path along the way.

For most, there are some good and bad
which can be expected by everyone.

So be thankful for the smallest rose
and place less emphasis on the thorns

Poems on Life
Water Love
by Harmony

Water smooth as rippling silk,
reflecting the mercury silver sky,
gently surrenders to the shoreline
in one endlessly billowing caress.
Its waves aroused by the wind's embrace
and cherry blossom kisses on upturned face,
I envy its singleness of purpose,
its relentless pursuit of dry ground;
love in pursuit of a heart;
love so completely found.

Obituary To Friendship
by Marge Tindal

A stranger came to my town today.
I knew not his face or his name.
But, friends, the discontent he spread among us,
causes me to hang my head in shame.

He didn't like the way we did things here.
Nothing suited his taste.
He began to divide the friends herein.
Such a pity. Such a waste.

Oh, we tried to resist him at first,
even thought that we might win.
But he was so deviously clever,
that one by one . . . we gave in.

Bickering, bitching and fighting ensued.
The hatred spread far and wide.
It entered our lives, our hearts and our homes;
and abruptly, friendship died.

As I sit alone in the dark of the night,
I am saddened to recall,
That while love was being torn asunder,
I sadly did nothing at all.

The Child
by T.l. Post

I have found a place
Inside this day,
Where inner children
Run and Play.
Where worldly concern
Of Rush, Rush
Is replaced by
A child's blush.
Be as young
As you must.
In innocent truth
You can trust.
Be not worried,
Harried or woed.
The child,
In your heart,
Is all
You need know.

My Dream
by Todd-Michael St. Pierre

Where the mountains touch the sky

Where poets DREAM, where eagles fly

A secret place above the crowds

Just beneath marshmallow clouds

Lift your eyes to a snowy peak

And see the soon- to- be we seek

Whisper DREAMS and let them rise

To the mountains old and wise

Climbers climb, it's time to try

Where the mountains touch the sky

Take me there. Oh take me now

Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow

Where the ocean meets the sky

Where mermaid dance and seagulls fly

A place in DREAMS I know so well

The sea inside a single shell

Far across the living sea

A pale blue possibility

Beyond the castles made of sand

Tomorrow in a small child's hand

Only DREAMERS need apply

Where the ocean meets the sky

Take me there. Oh take me now

Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow

Where the forests reach the sky

Men are equal and doves still fly

No thorns of war, a perfect rose

This is where the green grass grows

Out beyond the crystal stream

Like Dr. King I have a DREAM

Imagine such a goal in sight

For red and yellow, black and white

Whisper now, let the DREAM begin

It's time to trust the truth within

This is where we seek and find

A gift in being colorblind

Dream on Dreamers, hopes are high

Where the forests reach the sky

Take me there. Oh take me now

Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow

Now, listen close, the future calls

"Build your bridges and tear down walls! "

For time has taught and so it seems

Realities are born of DREAMS

Nursing Home Eyes
by Todd-Michael St. Pierre

Look into my window,

Observe synthetic flowers

Swaying to a ceiling fan breeze,

And a wallflower, wheelchair- bound at that.

For hours I look out

I see concrete, undernourished shrubs,

Cars and bikes rush by

And they keep me company.

Faded draperies

Speak for years that have fallen behind me.

Suddenly a slave to nostalgia

And withered memories.

Do you see the photographs on my vanity?

Notice how they stare back at me

With abstract smiles for the elderly.

I know they are too busy.

Everyone has his own life to live.

I understand!

Hey . . . would you look into my world?

Share a thought?

I know you have no time to visit.

Yes I am still here,

Alone, but alive.

A Different Path
by Brian Emerson

It's time to go, to leave this place
A shadowy voice does cry.
But the voice belongs to me alone,
And still I wonder why.

The time is here upon me now
Like a weight, heavy pounding.
Or has it Lifted? Hard to tell
The Questions keep arising.

The unknown awaits, as it does
For foolish few who dare.

Is it foolishness?

Curiosity perhaps?

Or something I'm not aware.

For I am scared and poignant now
More than ever at present.
Tears cloud my eyes as pen meets paper,
And I hope for my ascent.

I leave behind what I comprehend
And even with all communication.
I know for now without doubt,
I drift, en route a new location.

But who's to say what shall pass
And what still lies ahead.
I only know that were I'm at,
I'll yearn 'till forever dead.

Yet for now the flame still burns inside
However daily dying.
To light the path less traveled by
In haste I'm already striding.

But am I running from that I cannot?

Escape from oneself is ever brief.
Before we are again confronted,
Hunting for relief.

Yet still I follow my perilous path
To wherever it might be leading.
And well it may, onto something new,
And strangely more inviting.

Or perhaps not . . .

But who's to know, not I as yet
The fate of anyone on this Earth,
I wouldn't like to bet.

For life can lead in many ways
Often now undesired.
Fate can deal a cruel hand sometimes,
But we play on, cold and tired.

And art is born of life

Hard, dejected and trodden.

Hence emerges exquisite beauty,
And some direction from the coffin.

Finding it is a difficult thing
Sometimes left without thought.
But time it ticks, and years they fly,
I'm sure it can't be bought.

So we search, as do I
For things that bring on the 'morrow.
The weak are those who don't pursue,
And languish in their sorrow.

Happiness is that I chase
And hope to find someday.
I'll count the means again I'm sure,

There is always another way . . .

Green Summer
by Carey Lenehan

Summer flies by and the soft voices cry

for a mist of cool and a clear blue sky

White clouds drift and within their mist

is a safe, still place like a solitary kiss

With the new day's birth on this age old earth

All the lost loves wail and the sad ones curse

Will they cry no more, will they lie still for

Just a blue sky dawn or a sun drenched floor?

Brave the headlong sprawl, break the helpless fall

In our drifting haze, do we feel at all?

For our summer goes and the still voice knows

It will reign again when the soft wind blows.

Memories Of Cornwall
by Carey Lenehan

I miss the times when swallows nested underneath the eaves
And the way the brutal southwest winds bent over all the trees
I miss that sense of mystery, of ages long since gone
The legend and the history in two thousand years of song

In winter- time the foam- clad seas would crash on blackened rocks
And misted rain would cloak the Tor's jagged granite tops
Beneath grey skies of brooding depth I wandered and was free
Yet foolishly desired to know the world so far from me

Life swept me on its tiresome course and moved me far away
It filled my years with problems that still hamper me today
A thousand passing dusks and dawns would make my childhood dim
As a letter read a hundred times eventually wears thin

And as through use my memory of those golden summers fades
At least I can look back and think of carefree youthful days
And know within that somewhere I was blissfully at ease
Even at those trying times when life brings me to my knees

And sometimes when I think of all the things I gave away
When reaching out to find a life that meant I could not stay
I know I never will return to see how much the years
Have changed my childhood wonderland and fulfilled all my fears

My Cornish memories blanket me and little have they frayed
The freedom of a childhood where freedom always stayed
A place where I could grow and stretch and never need to fear
The cruelest moors, the kindest shores, always will be near

I would not wish to recreate the world I lived in then
Instead I will forge on ahead awaiting the time when
I can find another sanctuary where I will again be free
And feel this weight of lifetime woe, eased away from me

And in the time it takes to reach that long awaited day
I'll strive to make the best of all that comes along the way
I'll offer all the love I have to those who need my care
And await the golden summers to return to me somewhere

The Fruit That Fell

The grass
Flat with fallen fruit
Bruised -
Folded and matted
In your shadow.
Behind your head
With your wild eye
Staring upward
At the mottled light
Of clouds and sun
Through leaves
And branches
You are hungry.
But the fruit is fallen
And you will never
Starve.
So you leave the fruit
Where it will surely rot.
Browning the grass
For another season.

I stand behind another tree
And watch you.
I touch the rough bark
With my cheek.
I am hungry too
But I have eaten that fruit.
Soft and wet in the grass.
Tasting of moss-green
Forest fungus.
I hallucinate from the
Wild forest floor
As I reach for you
My arms extend - retract -
I cannot touch you.
Starved as I am
My body falls
And I sound like a tree
In the woods.

That no one hears
Crash down.

Loneliness

It is cold today
Indeed the rain is falling and I am alone.
Thoughts of life and love,
meaningless to anyone but myself.
I am alone.
They watch me, their eyes not knowing,
knowing nothing of what they see.
I am but another creature, alone.
They scurry on the surface, unaware,
unaware of the life below
when you are alone.

Loneliness, not a burden nor a sorrow,
but a time of solace, of deepness
never to be shared, never to be understood.
They can never reach the place where I am
And I know I will never reach the place where they are.
I know I don't want to reach that place.
True happiness is here, unmisted.
Unmisted by smiles or laughter,
unmisted by the joys of company.

To find true happiness,
to know if one is truly happy,
he must be happy alone.

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