I came for summer
And stayed for fall
Autumn leaves fell
I was still here and
Now it was getting
Cold. The chill did
Not deter. I waited
It out. Spring was
'Round every corner.
I stayed for summer.
Tag Archives: Poem
Poetry
The lyrical soul is
Skipping its beats
Tonight. At a loss
As images wane in
Pedestrian forms,
It hopes; it aspires
But dreams elude
All inspiration. It is
Quieted by its lack
Of transcendence.
Nostalgia
The past was built to last. I know.
So our history follows us. The used
To be is our now and we are tugged Towards what was. The emotional
Draw is strong, strange, electric as
Immediate as this morning's coffee.
It can cheer or haunt, that past of
Ours. I know. It is best to live with
No judgment, just our memories.
Goodbye, now
Does love have an expiration date?
A boiling point? A Finis or a c.o.b.?
So many love affairs find a terminus
Or an off-ramp that leads down a
Cliff to an unhappily ever-after no
One anticipated. Unwanted endings
That cannot be glossed over in a new
Chapter are sadder for surprising us
And unwelcome, especially when we
Unexpectedly run into each other
Across town, waiting for gas or picking
Up some Twinkies and chocolate milk
Musing
Where has my poetry flown?
It is at this moment on the
Tip of my tongue, at the tip
Of my fingers. Not quite ready
To emerge as song or theme.
Waiting for inspiration can be
A long wait, yet wait I must
Til it marches forth in words
Both poignant and colorful.
I hope for poetry's wings and
Yes, I wait with the fortitude of
A writer whose muse is near.
Purified
Rain purifies. It cleanses
The air. Clearing the air.
Clearing away any/all
Misunderstandings.
Pure and clean, clear up.
Clear sailing. All clear.
Thank the rain. It cleanses.
Gone
Inevitably, it all passes
Sometimes, slowly like
A drifting cloud on a
Windless day or as quickly
As a car race at LeMans.
Inevitably and without a
Warning, time steals away
Open
Open everything to be open
To everything. Spring wide
My soul, my heart. Open up
My mind. Let in air, and light.
Open to the good, especially
The good. Let in greatness.
See with eyes wide open why
An open mind is open to the
Better and the best. Keep an
Unhardened heart and expect
Heartening experiences which
Lighten the soul-aching load
Your eyes, your mind can feel.
Skyscape
I am not a star-gazer.
I leave that to those
Who know what it is
In the night skies to
Distinguish one from
Another constellation.
Lights strung in rows
Or shining separately
Making sparkles that
Brighten the sky and
Illuminate the clouds.
Time worn
Restless beauty is for the
Young. We are no longer
Restless nor are we young.
We are not strong of body but
Full of the history of our days.
Our composure is wherein
Lies our beauty and the
Strength we nurture as our
Own. Ours isn't the strength
Of youth. We need not flex
A muscle to brace our claim
At the beauty that we have
Earned. Ours is a resolute
And quiet beauty, a stillness.
We are not strong of body; we
Are full of the history of our
Days. Therein rests our beauty.
Not in our youth but in our age.
Tamara, really 