Poems: Before You Fall

Another poem I wrote when I was a teenager, this one after a friend of mine attempted suicide twice. Luckily, she made it through and today we're the best of friends.

I know you've thought of it before,

But always you've found a thing to live for.

I know your pain right now seems endless,

But you are loved and surely not friendless.

 

Come back from the edge, please do not stay,

I promise you now it will all be okay.

But this thing you're doing, it cannot be fixed.

Just give it a chance, don't stand there transfixed.

 

Before you fall, let me share one thing,

And perhaps my words can still give you wings.

I tell you right now, we all still do care.

If we didn't, why would we despair?

 

You must come away, for you are our friend,

And how will we feel if our hope should end?

Your life can be anything, it's just what you make it,

So listen to me, and please do not take it.

Poems: Brighter Tomorrow

I don't remember when I wrote this one. In between relationships when I was a teenager, I think. At least, it was in the filing cabinet with the other poems I wrote as a teenager.

The breeze is brisk and yet it's still warm,

Now I can see what once was a storm.

Hopes, dreams, and promises never intended to hold,

Will see a new day and tomorrows untold.

 

I can see a new hope for the things that might be,

Even if we cannot quite agree.

We're growing stronger with each new breath,

We can rise above all the sadness and death.

 

I'll try more to listen and not always speak,

You should try too, it won't make you weak.

Share life with me, when it's all said and done,

And we'll find the peace of a new day begun.

 

We'll travel together, what a delight,

When we no longer worry who's wrong and who's right.

We'll fix our problems, we'll look within,

And come to the day when we love again.

 

With wishes and merriment in that day anew,

We'll make our lives about me and you.

Leave behind the trials and all of the sorrows,

And we will soon find a brighter tomorrow.

Poems: Life's Dark Paths

I wrote this when I was 10. Haven't changed a word, so it's not very good. I had a thing with rhyming "hold" back then and I used the word "gotten". Hey, I was a kid.

As I've walked along life's dark paths,

I've stumbled, fallen, cried, and laughed.

Each mistake, a lesson that makes me strong,

And a hint to keep moving on.

 

The falls were all warnings, as was the pain,

Once I had heeded, I got up again.

The weeping was anger and sometimes bruised pride,

But this went away as I found my stride.

 

The laughter was an expression of the happiness inside,

The unguarded moments with nothing to hide.

The stumbles were hard and often too cold,

But laughter could save me and make me bold.

 

For everything I've learned and the bruises I've gotten,

For all of the crying and the laughter forgotten,

For the love that came, and the pain of my losses,

And all those tears shed for those worthy causes.

 

Finally I've learned to let go of things,

I stopped crying, now I laugh and I sing.

The way things are now is much to behold,

What once was so dark has now turned to gold.

Poems: The Bond

Digging through old chests you find all kinds of things. This week I found a poem I wrote when I was 9 or 10 that I wrote for my grandmother. It was clearly a school assignment as it had an A+ written on the top, but I remember little else about it. Still, I thought I'd post it since I've been posting poems for the last few weeks anyway.

You let me be who I had to be,

Not just wild but fancy free.

We once spent summers without end,

Out in the country as special friends.

 

I've never been all meek and mild.

I know I was not an easy child.

But never a harsh word did I hear.

Instead you soothed my deepest fears.

 

In the sun we ran and played,

Until we laid down in the shade.

I always basked in your concern,

And my respect you quickly earned.

 

You taught me not to feel depressed,

Or mock myself or be obsessed.

Accepting things you cannot change,

This I taught you in exchange.

 

You never minded little things,

So our bond flourished and grew wings.

And when time came for you to go,

My love for you could only grow.

Poems: For Svend

Ever had a teacher assign poems as assignments? I had a teacher who had us write different poems on a weekly basis. One week, we had to write a poem about our father. I was nine years old and adored my father, so I liked the idea, but poems came hard to me then. It took the better part of the week to write the following poem. I got an A and my dad still has a copy of the poem in his truck. It's not the best poem ever, but for a nine-year-old writing a poem for her dad, it was pretty good.

There was a man large as the sky,

Who always lit up Mother's eyes.

He had a son and three daughters,

Who were always proud to call him Father.

 

We'd hurry home from school each day,

Just so we could run and play.

All we wanted was to be with him,

And bask in his light ... it never dimmed.

 

He did not whine or even complain,

But ran with us through the rain.

He always dried our childish tears,

And chased away all of our fears.

 

He raised us to be kind and bright,

And always stand up for what was right.

As we grew he became a friend,

And always loved us without end.

Poems: By Your Side

There was a really serious reason I wrote this poem, I know there was, but a decade later I simply cannot remember what it was. Maybe it will come to me tomorrow...

Strong for you, I had to be.

For only you believed in me.

I knew one day that I would leave.

But how could it have been this eve?

 

I know that I will always be,

Held in your heart so perfectly.

You stood by my bed every day.

Though we knew it would end this way.

 

I know I asked you to keep your distance,

But really I needed your assistance.

Alone I would have pined and cried.

And wasted away before I died.

 

But you stayed ... what can I say?

I'm thankful you were here today.

If not for you I would have been alone,

Made of nothing but skin and bone.

 

And now I'm gone, but still around.

Listen close ... you'll hear my sounds.

In your heart is where I reside.

Always know I'll be by your side.

Poems: Crossroads

Most of my poems have some story behind them. Some were written to celebrate, some to grieve, and some just because I saw something funny. None of that applies to this particular poem. "Crossroads" came about when I was in the middle of writing a novel. It was my way of illustrating the indecision of one of the characters in the book. It had nothing to do with anything "real" unless you consider the characters bickering in my head to be real...

Should I turn around, give up, start again?

Or should I go over the wall, face their disdain?

There are terrible choices that I must make,

But right or wrong ... it's a chance I must take.

 

Be when those choices are made for others,

Be they children, sisters, or even brothers,

I ask myself if the decision is right,

And stay up thinking through this sleepless night.

 

I search for answers, hope for a voice,

To guide me now, to make my choice.

I cannot see what might be planned,

It all slips away, just like the sand.

 

There are only two options, oh what shall I do?

I'm at the crossroads ... which way is true?

If I choose right, there's peace of mind.

But if I don't, what shall I find?

Poems: Across the River

Years ago a good friend of mine lost her husband to cancer. She asked me to write her a poem that could adorn his grave marker. I wrote several for her, and this is the one she chose.

I've been gone for months now, but that's not so great a while.
I see that you do not laugh, that it's hard for you to smile.
I know my leaving was so hard and that it brought you grief.
But I am not unhappy, so let your pain be brief.
 
I am never far away, so please try not to fear.
I do wish I could touch your face and wash away your tears.
Open your eyes, look around, and you will surely see,
My love surrounds and cushions you, as it will ever be.
 
The rainbow you saw this morning when you opened up your door,
That was my small gift to you, and I swear there will be more.
Whenever something happens that makes you beam and glow,
It was me sending love, this you always must know.
 
You miss me, and I miss you, oh so very much.
I long to brush your skin and know your gentle touch.
It's not your time, precious one, so you will have to wait.
But when you cross the river wide, I'll meet you at the gate.

Poems: Questions

After some digging in an old box I found in my parents' basement, I found this poem that I wrote sometime in my early 20s (maybe my late teens). I don't actually remember the incident that inspired it, but it must have been something that hit me deeply at the time.

There are so many questions whose answers I can't find.

Will I ever heal and leave the past behind?

When will my strength return ... will I ever be the same?

Will I find forgiveness or will I always be to blame?

 

My heart, it lies in pieces ... will be ever be just one?

Will I get my life back ... will my grief ever be done?

Can I have some peace ... will my pain ever stop?

When this all is over, will I come out on top?

 

Can I let the past go and just live for today?

Will the horrid nightmares ever go away?

Will I see myself again or am I ever changed?

Can I fix the life that has been rearranged?

 

I still feel so dirty ... can I once again be clean?

I know this was a lesson, but what can this thing mean?

Can I ever live again ... can I seek my dreams?

Or will I always feel like I am tearing at the seams?

 

Is there any hope for me or should I just give up?

Will I always feel as if I am an empty cup?

Can I ever heal ... will I ever mend?

The guilt and pain I feel inside ... will it ever end?

Poems: For Baby Hannah

This poem was written not long after my niece died. It's not the best I've ever written, but it gets the message across.

Our future plans are shattered now,

As you lie beneath our feet.

Every thought of you is a memory,

Painful and yet so sweet.


Even now we hold you must dear,

Though you are buried deep,

Beneath that old willow tree,

Whose secret we shall keep.


You have died too young, too soon,

Your short story briefly told.

And though I yearn to join you,

I must let my own fate unfold.

Poems: A Little Help

This free verse poem was inspired by a picture prompt I once saw on a poetry writing website. I included a picture similar to the one that inspired me below. Brothers are great...most of the time.

It's not fair, it's just not fair,
For we are just too small.
And we must wait, and wait, and wait,
Until we can grow tall.

But brother, little brother, I simply cannot wait.
I really have to go.
Help me, won't you help me?
O help me, little bro.

But the ground is dark and dirty,
And not where I want to be.
Is there not another way?
Must it still be me?

I will be oh so gentle,
And I'll be very fast.
But I must have your help now,
For my need is still not past.

For you and only you,
Would I do this thing.
Make it fast, make it quick,
Or you will feel my sting.

Poems: Hail Upon My Head

According to my oldest son, I absolutely must share this little haiku about hail inspired by him and my younger son. Yes, they got caught in a hailstorm. Yes, they took a couple pieces in the head. And yes, everyone is just fine. In honor of their little adventure, here's their haiku.



 

Frozen water hurts
When it falls onto my head
Can I skate on it?

 

Poems: Ice Storm

 

The breeze is brisk; it is not warm.
I cannot see clear through this storm.
I take a breath that I will hold,
And hope my story will be told.

 

I do not know where I might be,
But I hope I will be set free.
I grow colder with each breath,
And know that I must starve off death.

 

The ice, it comes, I cannot speak.
It chills my blood and makes me weak.
I may be lost, I may be scared,
Perhaps my judgment is impaired.

 

I see something … is it a light?
This feels wrong … but it may be right.
It’s still so cold, I turn within,
And find warmth inside my own skin.

 

It’s a lie, this I know,
I’m still trapped in ice and snow.
I’m cold and wet and full of sorrow.
But things will be better on the morrow.

Poems: The Mystery of Snowflakes

 

Each and every snowflake,
Is unique unto itself.
Each one bears a message,
Of love or faith or help.

 

Each and every snowflake,
As they fall beneath our feet,
Brings up a fallen memory.
Some are painful, some are sweet.

 

Each and every snowflake,
Reminds us of the past.
Perhaps they hold the secret,
To questions we have asked.

 

Each and every snowflake,
Holds a story yet untold.
But this story stays a mystery,
In the deep and dark and cold.

Poems: A Frosty Walk

 

The sun shines down upon my face,
The wind drifts slowly by.
The frost is crisp beneath my feet,
And I feel like I could fly.

 

Winter can be long and dark,
And go on far too long.
The wind can come and steal your breath,
As you trudge along.

 

But today is nearly perfect,
Or as perfect as can be.
The frost, it clings and glitters,
And moves quite like the sea.

 

I’m in a winter wonderland,
As I take my morning walk.
And yet I know I must go back,
I know this, and still I balk.

 

I hear my name, know it is time,
And am glad of any warning.
I kick up snow, disturb the frost,
And enjoy this frosty morning.

Poems: Reunion

As I'm in the middle of finishing up a novel, I sometimes get sidetracked, but in a good way. I love poetry and will eventually publish a book of poems. In the meantime, I'll have to be satisfied with writing the occasional poem that pops into my head. I found this one about a year ago scribbled inside one of my journals. I thought I'd share it this week.

 

 I was just a child when we said goodbye.
 Everyone said that it was simply fate.
 But I was much too young to understand
 Why you weren't coming home.

 As the years flew past, I missed you just the same.
 And everybody said my pain would soon abate.
 But truth is a cold comfort and time does not heal.
 So I hold my grief close and pray they do not see.

 This dark tunnel never ends, though time will still creep on.
 Grief burns a fiery cold, refusing warm and comfort.
 I walk, no, I wander, no direction to be had.
 Waiting in the darkness, for what I do not know.

 The wheel has turned, the long night ended,
 And I can see the light.
 It looks like you, it shares your warmth,
 And sings softly as it waits.

 Now I understand.
 And yes, it was our fate.
 Parted once, but reunited,
 And I have no fear.

Poems: The Voice

I'm a poet at heart, though I make my living writing books. Some of the poems I write are funny, others are tragic, but they all come from the heart. So here's one of my favourite poems, this one about a dark time in my life.

Listen, can you hear it?
Or is it only in my dreams?
I close my mind to shut it out,
Yet still somehow it seems,
There is a dark wind calling,
Singing wild and free,
Caressing all my skin,
Crying out to me.
“Come,” it sings so gently,
“Leave all your cares behind.
Follow with each step I take,
And true peace you will find.”

I doubt and still I follow,
Knowing not where this road leads,
Yet praying it holds the answer,
To all my darkest needs.
And there at last he’s waiting,
His eyes older than my years.
They touch my own so tenderly,
And banish all my fears.
I know I have the choice then,
And yet how can I dare,
To move into the darkness,
And seek an end right there?