I keep forgetting to post these….
I should have Posted this on the 27th and guess what? You can get your copy here.
Book Birthday, Belated
Category: Patricia Harris
Monday Poetry
Trading with the fae
By
Patricia Harris
They told me
They could take my pain
And steal it away.
Trading with the fae
Is worse than
Dealing with the devil
Any day.
The promises made
Are sweeter than sugar,
And the result is naught
But disappointment.
Monday Poetry
Song of Home
By
Patricia Harris
The song of home
Is leading me
To the path
Of memory.
The notes lifting
My heart broken
Into a place of peace
Where only happiness exists.
Monday Poetry
Forgotten Flowers
By
Patricia Harris
Faded blooms
Floating down stream
Forget me nots
Don’t mean anything.
When you promised forever
With flowers in your hand,
I believed you with no demand…
But here I sit with forgotten flowers
And forever but a dream.
Monday Poetry
You Saved Me
By
Patricia Harris
You say that you feel
like you were a curse…
before you I was a soul
lost in the void.
I had no idea
what I should do
or who I was…
I had never seen
anyone else
remotely like me.
until you.
you saved me,
by introducing me
to who you are.
Monday Poetry
Welcome Back
By
Patricia Harris
The door was closed
So long ago on who
We were, forgotten children
Pretending to be human
In the world turning us into
Monsters.
Taking away the idea
That were allowed to
Play, allowed to be
Happy…
Welcome back
To the forgotten places
Where childhood stows.
Monday Poetry
Caustic
By
Patricia Harris
The words that drip from your tongue
burn deeply into the soul,
Caustic like the acid,
Perhaps I am lost in a fog
of the brain melted by what you had to say…
I stand here broken,
wondering if I have made
many the wrong choice,
Walking through the acid rain…
for someone who will never see
the damage inflicted.
For the one who will always
cause me pain.
Monday Poetry
Singularity
By
Patricia Harris
Perhaps I am not the person
I thought I would be,
So like everyone else.
Perhaps I am but a
singularity,
a lost note
in a song sung
by the divine.
Monday Poetry
He is not My friend
By
Patricia Harris
He said he was my buddy,
My brother, my bestie,
Anything to get me closer.
He wanted me to want more,
Wanted me hooked on
What he had in store.
He is not my friend,
He is the chills in the
Middle of the night,
He is not my friend,
He is the last minute
Need to fight.
He is not my friend,
He is my dealer.
Monday Poetry
In wildflower fields
By
Patricia Harris
when you come traveling
through the fields of flowers
pick ones far from tame
and lose yourself…
For getting lost in
The fields of wildflower
Is a music to the mind
that allows you to leave
all of your stress and worry behind.
Pattimouse 