I have left here shadow the path my life has taken.
They do not however shadow my soul. I just
recently learnt I will not change the world or the
pain within it. However I refuse to let it change me.
"There is no need to close the eyes to dream, rather open the
mind, the heart and the soul. Allow the mental image to
engulf the senses. Fill the eyes and ears with the sights and sounds
of Canada. Allow the soul to flirt with the written words. Marvel
in voiceless delights. Permit the heart to feel the emotion of
poetry. Visit a world gone by, welcome the new,discover the future within the dreams."
From the heart of a Women
I have loved dearly,
conquered, lost, lived,
pleased and shed tears.
I have sang, challenged,
expressed, smiled,
and shed more tears.
I have dreamed, laughed,
desired, shared, slaved
and shed more tears.
I am the joy of a million voices,
the pain of a thousand tears,
I am the women of uncertain desires,
I am the mother of my soul,
the daughter of my heart,
I am the keeper of my dreams,
the founder of my hopes.
I am but a speck in the sand
a flower in the garden,
a star in the sky.
The Joy that lives within.
Deep within the soul a flicker begins.
Slowly the flicker builds to warm the
heart and engulf the spirt.
On the wings of an angel
words pentatrate the soul allowing
us to see what is hidden, what
makes the spirt soar, what has been created,
what is being created and what will be created.
Allow the flame to grow,
find the joy that lives within.
"Dreaming is the power to grow a rose in the Manitoba winter."
It is….
It is with your hand,
you help me meet each day.
It is with your lips,
I find pure pleasure
It is with your smile
I find peace
It is because you stand beside me,
I do not fall.
It is your constant love
I always feel
It is the part of you
You gave to me
It is you
the man I love.
Questions
Do you believe in me?
What is it you see when you look into my eyes?
Can you hear my tears?
Can you see my pain?
When you touch me, do you feel the hurt?
Why did you forget you loved me?
When did you learn to hate me?
The cruelest lies you told me were said in silence.
Brandy September 1995
Darkness
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
conquered, lost, lived,
pleased and shed tears.
I have sang, challenged,
expressed, smiled,
and shed more tears.
I have dreamed, laughed,
desired, shared, slaved
and shed more tears.
I am the joy of a million voices,
the pain of a thousand tears,
I am the women of uncertain desires,
I am the mother of my soul,
the daughter of my heart,
I am the keeper of my dreams,
the founder of my hopes.
I am but a speck in the sand
a flower in the garden,
a star in the sky.
The Joy that lives within.
Deep within the soul a flicker begins.
Slowly the flicker builds to warm the
heart and engulf the spirt.
On the wings of an angel
words pentatrate the soul allowing
us to see what is hidden, what
makes the spirt soar, what has been created,
what is being created and what will be created.
Allow the flame to grow,
find the joy that lives within.
"Dreaming is the power to grow a rose in the Manitoba winter."
It is….
It is with your hand,
you help me meet each day.
It is with your lips,
I find pure pleasure
It is with your smile
I find peace
It is because you stand beside me,
I do not fall.
It is your constant love
I always feel
It is the part of you
You gave to me
It is you
the man I love.
Questions
Do you believe in me?
What is it you see when you look into my eyes?
Can you hear my tears?
Can you see my pain?
When you touch me, do you feel the hurt?
Why did you forget you loved me?
When did you learn to hate me?
The cruelest lies you told me were said in silence.
Brandy September 1995
Darkness
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
Slowly the flicker builds to warm the
heart and engulf the spirt.
On the wings of an angel
words pentatrate the soul allowing
us to see what is hidden, what
makes the spirt soar, what has been created,
what is being created and what will be created.
Allow the flame to grow,
find the joy that lives within.
"Dreaming is the power to grow a rose in the Manitoba winter."
It is….
It is with your hand,
you help me meet each day.
It is with your lips,
I find pure pleasure
It is with your smile
I find peace
It is because you stand beside me,
I do not fall.
It is your constant love
I always feel
It is the part of you
You gave to me
It is you
the man I love.
Questions
Do you believe in me?
What is it you see when you look into my eyes?
Can you hear my tears?
Can you see my pain?
When you touch me, do you feel the hurt?
Why did you forget you loved me?
When did you learn to hate me?
The cruelest lies you told me were said in silence.
Brandy September 1995
Darkness
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
It is….
It is with your hand,
you help me meet each day.
It is with your lips,
I find pure pleasure
It is with your smile
I find peace
It is because you stand beside me,
I do not fall.
It is your constant love
I always feel
It is the part of you
You gave to me
It is you
the man I love.
Questions
Do you believe in me?
What is it you see when you look into my eyes?
Can you hear my tears?
Can you see my pain?
When you touch me, do you feel the hurt?
Why did you forget you loved me?
When did you learn to hate me?
The cruelest lies you told me were said in silence.
Brandy September 1995
Darkness
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
you help me meet each day.
It is with your lips,
I find pure pleasure
It is with your smile
I find peace
It is because you stand beside me,
I do not fall.
It is your constant love
I always feel
It is the part of you
You gave to me
It is you
the man I love.
Questions
Do you believe in me?
What is it you see when you look into my eyes?
Can you hear my tears?
Can you see my pain?
When you touch me, do you feel the hurt?
Why did you forget you loved me?
When did you learn to hate me?
The cruelest lies you told me were said in silence.
Brandy September 1995
Darkness
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
What is it you see when you look into my eyes?
Can you hear my tears?
Can you see my pain?
When you touch me, do you feel the hurt?
Why did you forget you loved me?
When did you learn to hate me?
The cruelest lies you told me were said in silence.
Brandy September 1995
Darkness
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
The darkness surrounds
seaping into her skin
running through her veins
circling, binding, peering
deep into her body
becoming her friend,
her savor, her strength.
A slight smile warms
the young face
she whispers "welcome my friend"
together, alone, two torched souls
surcome to peace.
As the day draws near
the friend fades as the smile
with light comes the creature,
looming close,
pleased as the smile fades.
Again the thunderous roar--
the bright peercing beacon--
the unmistakable aroma--
Fear re-enters her body,
and life goes on.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
When angels cry.
When angels cry, little hearts break,
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
at which moment the heart doesn’t fathom
and tears from chestnut eyes escape
Delicate fingers, of an out reached
hand, searching for an answers,
to a question one doesn’t understand.
Decisions of life one finds so chilling,
a heart to tiny to grasp,
a world of changeful, desires,
When angels cry, it’s not in isolation,
the pain is felt by those who feel,
by those who force the pain real.
Tiny demons.
I knew not what I did,
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
,
calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.
nor understand why
I did it.
The tiny demons,
within my soul
only speak of mysteries,
of pain,
of childhood dreams
washed away
exchanged with lightlessness.
From the lowest valley
capacity does emerge,
calms the heart,
drives away the fears
, calms the tiny demons.
Will it lose it’s power
opposing the military.
Alas only death forgives all.
September 1982
All poetry on this page are under copyright protection.