Poems By Me

~Words of the Heart~

~LIFE~

Burning flames of life...we hold

Deep within our mortal souls...

Keep them lit...and not grow cold

For only then...can they be coals.

Written Dec.8th.1998.

~DEAD SEEDS~

You'll reap the seeds...that you have sown

And to the wind...they'll all be blown.

Upon desert sands...may they come to rest

In that dry land...that is not blessed.

There's no "Life's Waters"...in this cursed land

So your seeds shall lie...unable to stand.

These worthless seeds...that was your gain

Proved to be gathered...all in vain.

As sure as hell...they'll shrivel and die

And next to them...so you shall lie.

Written Mar.27th.1993.

This next poem I wrote to my Muma...near two months after my Father died of cancer...as she missed him dreadfully...and still does...Even though my Dad was no longer here...I wrote this for him to her...as he asked me to look after her once he was gone...This poem was an "lift up" for muma...and a "release and acceptance" that he was gone for me...The words "Your my lady, my woman, my wife" written in this are actual words my Father used to say to her...*smiles*...

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~MY COMFORTER~

Hold me tight in your loving arms,

For this my mind and heart it calms,

And cradle my head against your breast,

So that I can hear the life in your chest.

My sweet loving wife...is what you'll always be,

Never forget the happiness you gave me,

Or my words of love...I've uttered to you,

"Your my lady, my woman, my wife"...that's so true.

Still in my last remaining moments here,

Your voice and touch...ensures me your still near,

There's no greater comfort than that..that you give,

And I know that our love will certainly live.

You're my best medicine...now...you know,

Your warmth and caresses make me glow,

When I leave your arms my dear wife...

I'll meet you with mine...in our next life.

Written February 1st.1992.

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~TEMPEST~

Slowly, gently...out of the mists... Flows a breeze...with upraised fists... All too soon...it's fingers gnarl... Grasping the air...making a snarl...

Bursting forward...strength of might... Breeze turned tempest...raging the night... Tearing, ripping...whatever lay near... Hurting, destroying...things once held dear...

As night grew on...ruins did too... But tempest weakened...dying in dew... Those gnarled fingers...no longer reached... In turn, the snarls...no longer preached...

Dec. 1999

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MORE OF MY POEMS

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