Vines

March 10, 2011 at 8:17 am (Sonnets) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

For love, I gave my heart and lost my head.

One look from him was all that I desired,

But still I ran from him – dry-eyed, I fled.

Fear of the future, of secrets – I risked fire –

Soul burning agony. All for freedom.

But there was no freedom in that dark place –

More pain. More chains. More fear. And now, no him,

No love to save me, and so I must perish.

Perish pining, darkly burning in strife!

Regret consumed me. Overwhelmed my soul.

In wandering thoughts I laid down my life,

I let my wits away, and gave up control.

But my knight arrived and in his hand took mine –

Too late my mind was caught in sorrow’s vine.

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Where it Stops

November 30, 2010 at 8:36 pm (Poetry) (, , , , , , , , )

Sun up and sun down

Round and round we go

We know we’ll stop, but where?

Who knows?

Talk of fire and ice pervades the air

The preachers yell fire and the people fall down

The scientists say ice and the people bow down

Me? I’m indecisive.

But I say: Why not both?

As the Earth stops turning and the icicles form –

The people cry mercy from the fires in Hell.

So, death and destruction

The same old bit

Nothing new under the sun

Dust to dust to light –

Or flames.

Ashes to ashes

They all fall down –

Down, down.

So, fire and ice

The same old poem

He goes up, she goes down

The world turns – until you stop

Where?

You’ll know.

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Match Girl

August 1, 2010 at 8:50 pm (Poetry) (, , , , , , , , )

Little girl

Playing with fire

Spreading it all around her

All she knows

Is that it keeps her safe

And warm

But when it is gone

She shivers in the cold

Dreaming of the fire

Wishing it would return

Wishing it would spread

Little match girl

Lost in the cold.

***The only thing I wanted from my grandmother when she passed away was a doll.  The little match girl sat in her living room for years, and now she is in my bedroom as a reminder.  I named her Etterene…after my grandmother.

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