Category: 1990s

Poem: 1992 – Together, a hope… a dream…

Poem: 1992 – Together, a hope… a dream…

Together, a hope… a dream…
I long to love you
And let you love me.
To have you so close… so near…
To wake up with you beside me
When dawn starts to appear.
The time has come, though,
Where night draws near.
And with the fading shadows
I think of you and my past
Haunts me…
My hope for us runs thin.
I won’t give up that small glimmer
That says we will be together
To share our hopes and dreams again.
I want us to again to weep,
To cry, to rail, and to laugh together.
I wish for this
Because life means nothing
Without love together with
A hope
And
A Dream…
*excerpt of longer 1989 version, revised 12/1992
 

Poem: 1992 – An Ancient Hymn

Poem: 1992 – An Ancient Hymn

An Ancient Hymn
Waves flood against my soul
Caressing the pounding of my heart
As it beats to an ancient hymn.
I feel myself tumbling gently
Off a cliff
To the depths
Of an ocean I’ve never been to
Or even glimpsed
Falling down
To the soft,
Welcoming ground
It awaits me with open arms
Like those of a gentle breeze
Filtering through the realms
With nature’s sweet music singing.
It barely compared to
The music of my heart.
12/6/1992

Poem: 1993 – I hold the petal of soft velvet…

Poem: 1993 – I hold the petal of soft velvet…

I hold the petal of soft velvet
Between my fingers.
It possesses a fragrance that
Stands still in time;
Taking me back to my childhood
With memories of my grandmother’s perfume
Or forward to a walk along the paths
Of a rose garden at a grand estate.
Such a simple thing of beauty alone
Becomes magical when
Given by a new love;
Almost as enchanting
As the feelings that bloom between two souls.
 
2/16/1993 (BM)
(edited 8/4/2017)

No. (2016)

No. (2016)

No
No, no, no no.
Oh God.
Shattering, crashing, rolling.
Dead…
Gone and gone and oh, God she is gone.
A friendship dies in a tangle of
Crushed and twisted metal in the dark.
Oh, how I hope you were not afraid, and
Yet, I know you were.
Alone and afraid and me so far away.
I dropped the phone when they told me.
I dropped to the ground and cried;
Tears falling, sobs wracking and
My mother’s heart breaking on the other end of the line.
So much time has passed.
Still the pain can slam into me
At the most unexpected time.
At my Wedding, I word a ring we picked out as children.
It was blue.
When my son was born, I introduced him to your parents
And for a moment you were there too, and we didn’t cry.
Well, not too much, anyway.
He will know you, if only through stories and pictures.
You are not forgotten.
30 November, 2016
 
Poet’s Notes: My childhood best friend and a dear friend well into adulthood was killed in a car accident at night on her Birthday in 2011. I do not traditionally write when I am in pain, so I wrote nothing at the time. However, the past couple of weeks, as I have  been putting my first poetry book together, I have run across so many poems written about our friendship and upon reflection of her passing. It pulled a string of memories forward and this is the best way I know to describe the complicated emotions I have of a friendship that was cut too short by death.

Whispers in Twilight (1998)

Whispers in Twilight (1998)

Whispers in the Twilight
The purple hues blur the world
As the sun sets in the west.
A lazy sense of finality settles
Like a mantle of time upon my shoulders.
Turning the corner visions assault me.
A bird chirps from a nearby tree.
I look around expecting you to be
Near enough– I could reach out and touch you if I tried.
Shaking ghosts from my mind I walk on down
The stairs to my comfortable home
Knowing I’ll be greeted by the wagging tail
Of my only child.
The comfort of having something there
Is never lost on me, though,
So I smile, pet the wriggling pup
Hang up my coat, and greet the cat.
I pause.
There you are again.
The comforting scent of familiarity
Wrapping me in the memories of
Love and friendship.
I must be loosing my mind.
Muttering to my pets, I drop my keys and open my
One piece of mail, only to toss it aside in disgust
Turning my back on the offending junk as it
Floats down onto the growing pile by the trashcan.
Unconsciously, I glide over to the stereo and soon
Music fills the room.
Looking down suddenly as yet another memory
Flashes though my mind and I chuckle at my find.
A bottle overturned— The pungent scent that had been
Taunting me since my return home–
Slowly dripping down the dark wood
And onto the carpet.
Avoiding the memories both
Joyful and poignant: the loss of you still fresh,
I quickly clean up the mess
And push aside the slight twinge of disappointment.
I knew you weren’t really here
And the ghosts were merely figments,
Yet, the possibility lifted
The stress and exhaustion for just a while.
Memories are a comfort.
And while I turn back and
Wander into my bedroom,
I failed to see a small
Gift left for me…
The white rose stands in the corner
Quiet and regal, wild in it’s mystery,
Bowed slightly in acknowledgment
That anything… can happen…