On this page I’m going to share some of my poetry (duh). I like poetry that rhymes and has meter and form. I think it takes a lot of hard work and discipline to write that kind of poetry, and I don’t pretend to do it well, but I do enjoy the process. I also like free verse, though, and it’s also work, because, as Samuel Taylor Coleridge said, poetry of any sort is “the best words in the best order.” I hope you enjoy mine.
A Hymn of Sorrow
To Thee, O Lord, I sing this hymn of sadness
To Thee I cry, my broken heart in pain
I wake each morning waiting for a new song
Searching for a place where I belong
Knowing, Lord, I should count my loss as gain.
To Thee, my God, I sing this hymn of heartache
To Thee I offer up these tears I shed
I long to feel Your blessed arms around me
Your hand my lifeline in this stormy sea
Oh free me from this overwhelming dread.
To Thee, my King, I sing this hymn of anguish
To Thee I beg for mercy from this grief
From this world that’s set its face against me
From this world whose walls I long to flee
Take me home, Lord God, be my relief.
If God is for us, who shall stand against us?
In this world, ye shall have trials and tribulation; but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world
To Thee, my Hope, I sing this hymn of daybreak
To Thee I pledge to carry on the fight
I look to You, my portion and my shield
To You, severe or sweet, I vow to yield
Until that day when faith shall be as sight.
Hide and Seek
She pulls herself farther into the foliage
Deeper behind the snarl of leaves and branches
Into the dank, into the deep
Holding her breath.
Hide and seek.
She used to hide in obvious places
Her shoe visible, a ribbon giving her away
Here I am, you can’t see me.
Please come find me, she whispered.
Hide and seek.
She was never allowed to be it
She had to be the one to hide, always a little deeper
Here I am, you can’t find me
Do you even want to find me? She wondered.
Hide and seek.
This time she is hidden well
The approaching steps don’t make her shudder
You can look at me, but you won’t see me
You can’t see what’s invisible. She slept.
Hide and Seek.
Slaying the Beast
The Beast that rages in the night
Slaying man as if by right
Fills our hearts with anguished fright
And laughs in pleasure at our plight.
Its hands have touched our every life
Piercing us with sorrow’s knife
Leaving always pain and strife
With its scars our world is rife.
No longer helpless must we cower
And with our fear the Beast empower
It’s victory we can turn sour
This can be our finest hour.
Warriors everywhere unite
And join together in the fight
Erase the Beast’s pathetic blight
And fill our world again with light.
Support Relay for Life
Poem of the Page
I stare at the blank page, and it stares back
Hoping that I will fill it’s space with profound words
That will cause people to gasp at my vision
And nod their heads at the depth of my wisdom
It stares back more hopefully than expectantly
Because it knows profound to me
Is not encapsulated in the tragedies of life
Or the deep flaws we humans carry
To me it is that this new baby has ten fingers and ten toes
It is the joy stirred in my soul
As I watch my son watch his daughter
As I see my son’s wife cradle in her arms
This child she has been cradling in her belly for so long
As I feel tiny fingers wrapping themselves around one of mine
So as the words begin to dot the page
Knowing that once again it has no hope
Of becoming part of the immortal
Once again it will be
Just a page
Filled with words
From my heart.
In the spring of birth and childhood
Among the flowers wild and free
There I romped and thought I always would
My friends and I, all joy and glee.
As summer came the earth grew scorched
I was transplanted far afield
On a bank of agony I perched
Afraid of what this land would yield.
But I made a place in that new world
And spent my summer growing sure
By fall I was no more a girl,
A woman in her universe secure.
See now the skies with winter deepen
Another season, one more change
The road before me seems to steepen
And once again I fear the strange.
Yet each season has brought its own treasure
Summer, winter, spring and fall
Three now have come and gone with pleasure
May this last prove the best of all.
Every day it’s just a little harder
Takes a little more effort
To start to move
Every day is just a little darker
Takes a little longer
To find some light
I look at the things laid out before me
The things I need to put on
The things that will make me
Look like me
To anyone who cares to see
But every day it’s just a little harder
and takes a little longer
to get it right.