You are but one of many, who seek to see the dream,
Chasing the unknown, pressured by your own self esteem,
You are bound by nature, the rules wider than the seas,
An un-caged bird wanting to be set free,
Those stars that you can't count, and those you wish to be,
Those years that you look back, wondering "Oh, what might've been"
Jewel-like sparkle in up-turned dark eyes
Underneath star dotted skies
Little boy excitedly grasps Mama's hand
Inhaling the scents of crisp twilight and sweet summer land
Eternities spread above the pair in a canopy of splendor
Night beheld in innocent wonder
© 2018 Shawna
the
meeting
of cat and
blue butterfly
though not expected was long awaited
green eyes drift to the tip of its own nose
in hushed stillness
and the guest
to blooms
flies
......
I used to hold her hand at night
Roll over in bed and take her hand in mine and think "This is love - it must be because I want to hold her hand while she sleeps"
In the evening or at night she would tell me about things that stabbed her and made her hard or even mean and I would cry inside but think "This is love - it must be because my heart breaks for her while she speaks"
One night, I was far away
And I was the one that had been stabbed and wanted to talk to her before I became hard and mean
It was too late
She was bloody gristle with nothing to offer
Not even a kind word
......
While we walked home from the movies, one moonlit starry night,
My friends and I talked and laughed, enjoying summer's delights.
The streets were quite silent, as trees swayed in warm breezes,
And night blooms graced the walks, like evening's masterpieces!
The birds were still singing, and jeweled fireflies were out,
Winking off and on magically, in the temporary world blackout!
We had stopped for ice cream, and ate our cones as we walked,
......
A bee chases a butterfly
Flapping her frail white wings
Flys avidly unto the lea
Sprightly swirls in subtle swings
A bee chases a butterfly
A leaf plunges off a tree
Long thin grasses stretch to extreme
Reach out to seize glare's glee
......
These are poems for poets and poems about poets. Also, poems about the art and craft of writing poetry...
The Wonder Boys
by Michael R. Burch
(for Leslie Mellichamp, the late editor of The Lyric,
who was a friend and mentor to many poets, and
a fine poet in his own right)
......
I see the sun run over the sea, later set
Below the horizon of Bay of Bengal, every evening
And the sea I see threat
The boys and girls, and sing
Whimsically, 'O, I'm now giant, be alert';
So they go apart.
I see the sun run over the meadow, later hide
Behind the trees of beautiful Bengal, every evening
And the meadow I see bid
......
clouds rain
eyes strain
through liquid lines on window pane
lines arc
mind sparks
seeking secrets in the dark
clock ticks
thoughts flick
philosopher to lunatic
booms crack
......
I broke a mirror the other day.
It shattered me, but I was fine.
For the me that I saw on display
Was just an I from another time.