Monthly Archives: February 2018

A Rock in the Tide


Each rolling wave, away it takes,
A different part, for its own sake.
Watching the tide come and go,
Watching the sand shift to and fro.
On my rock by the shore
I observe the sand.
Though I’m cold
I have no envy for the warm land.
On my rock I observe the ebb and flow.
Here I am safe
From where the tide decides to go.

Next Time


Empty house tonight
They left behind a trace warm.
Until next time, missed.

Ocean and Shore

Water in vain tries to take hold of sand.
The ocean foolishly tries to claim the land.
“Come back to me.” he says to her,
The ocean to the shore.
“A little while longer.”
She answers in reply.
“When our mother in her great blanket,
Warms above: the skies,
Then we shall be much closer,
Our love. You and I.”.

Once-Life


I hold a once-life
It shall remain here sleeping.
Resting in my hand
It gave its breath keeping,
Its heat to give back,
Its heart nevermore beating.
The wings no longer carry
Its small form into the sky
It simply lays here
While I,
I held a once-life and it remains there dreaming.

A Burning of Roses

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Burning roses by the sea,
A fragrant smoke that all can see.

A child plays in the rising tide.
Its mother, her fears, in God doth confide.

A beautiful thing, burnt, no more.
Priceless lives we all adore.

Courage to go into the waves
Does nothing for one who waits on the shore.

My Favorite Season

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I long for the days to grow shorter.
The heat to fade and the cold to grow harsher.
Spring only leads to summer, and fall not close enough,
Throughout the year, too much tangled up stuff.
Give me the storms and rain and snow,
As long as their wind remains cold.
Until the sun grows cold and gives us less light,
I’ll pretend I’m sleeping, I’ll pretend it’s night.

By Herself

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She is awoken by voices,
She is alone.
In a strange place
She calls home.
Echoing off the walls,
In the midst of silence found,
They who have no name,
Each of their words resound.
She hates the silence,
It’s when they are so loud.
Whatever noise she can make
To ward off absent sound.
There is a voice she fears above most,
The one who, from the silence, boasts.
She hates his persistence.
She is insistent that he leave.
She fails and fails and fails again.
Any other voice from the din!
The many shout at her,
She does not give in.
But the one quietly calls,
From behind a door that’s cracked open
When the others leave.
He calls to her, her fears.
Things forgotten from across the years,
And then she remembers why
They were pushed aside.
Then in her heart
She deeply wishes the voices to depart.
And she hears
So softly in her ear,
Him whisper:
“You will believe us absent, asleep,
You will rejoice in your soul deep.
You will forget what I tell you now
And you will remember each time we return our sound
You, in your fear, may not belong,
And we will never truly be gone.”

She closed her eyes,
And awoke alone; or so she was told.
She rose to the window,
And thought the sun too bright to be this cold.