We finally got the release date for Serena’s Chasing Ghosts !
It’s available for preorder now but it is going to release June 21st.
She spent quite a while chasing her ghosts and herself in this volume of poetry. I think it’s a good volume.
When Hope Ends
By Patricia Harris
The beginning of all things
Is when we decide that hope ends.
Because Hope is the thing
That keeps alive the what ifs.
Realism means that you look
at what life offers
and don’t look away
when hope ends and the world
shows you the darkness
in sway.
Pick up your Pen
open the vein
enter the memory
through the ink again
you are the art, poet.
Regrets
By Patricia Harris
In the moment when you seek
a reprieve from your own mind
or the uneasiness of your own skin…
that is when regrets sneak in.
The emotional toll is heavy indeed,
for regrets are weighty when the
soul is most in need of relief.
*Poet’s Note…Though I have been Keeping up with the PAD Challenge…I failed to post yesterday. I apologize. My Daughter is very ill, and I have been trying to keep up. I was at the ER most of the Day yesterday.
The end is nigh
Or so they say,
Not a chance
That it is just a
Matter of perspective.
What you consider
To be the end,
Might be a bit
Of a beginning
For the next person.
Poetry is a long forgotten art
Often seen as stagnant
Except the rare ones
That understand why
Reading poetry has
Years of dreams written in short verse.
Hope Splashes
By Patricia Harris
Heaven has nothing
On the exquisite
Pleasures found here
Earthbound.
So much of what
People stress over
Lingers in the mind
After it should be
Sent on its way.
Hope helps us
Enjoy the
Simplicity of life.
In Between
By Patricia Harris
Finding the middle ground
In between the same thing
I have already been
And the scary thing
that I am becoming…
Seems like it will tear me apart.
The question is will you be
Right there with me
As I evolve or will I again
Find myself alone?
Perhaps the reason why
I struggle with that middle ground
Is it is not where I should be,
Evolution is the best thing
For me…
When the wind calls you home,
I hope you become poetry.
When you have nothing left to say,
I hope you write poetry.
When all in you has been turned
Into the noise of the world,
I hope you find poetry to quiet it again.
And child,
When you have naught else
That you can depend upon,
I hope you have poetry.
Pattimouse 