For though I had not written
in a score of days,
the pen seemed to have
a life of its own as I wrote
in a complete haze.
Poetry flowed loosely
from my mind as if I had
breached a dam at last.
the pen and I were
joined as one,
and I myself
found poetry done.
Under the Street Light
by Serena Mossgraves
the cold sets glistening
the ones that live
under the street light.
with no roof above them
the light exposes the
darkness below.
no home, no warmth,
the night is just another thing
to harry the broken soul along .
The Past
by Patricia Harris
the past is gone
forgotten,
repeating.
it leaves so many
feeling defeated.
it is not even happening
in a different way,
the past is gone...
so we will have to
live it all over again.
I have to admit I love Rachel Wiley’s Poetry. It feels like she gets where I have been. This was an impulse buy for me, as I rarely buy the paperback versions. I enjoy paperbacks but I don’t often read them. I find it easier to curl up with my phone and enjoy what I want to read. So for me Paperbacks are a luxury item. This one lives up to the hype. The poems tug at the heart, and are well written. The book is lovely. Not the largest volume, but it feels just right. I bought it on the Zon but it is available on B&N, Google and a few of the usual suspects.
Hindsight
by Serena Mossgraves
The way hindsight blinds,
kindness hidden by fear,
and friendship torn apart
by the illusion of what
the mind perceives.
Perhaps hindsight is twenty twenty,
but with no light to illuminate
seeing through the dark
can be an impossible thing.
Identity
by Patricia Harris
Who am I, Really?
Hiding behind labels,
Lost in pretending
I understand who
I am supposed to be.
There was a time
When I was sure
Of who I wanted to be,
No labels, no questions,
just me and who I wanted to be...
Age has changed me
adding fear, adding wear and tear...
adding the questions
and the lost identity
that I find the need to chase.
Corset
by Serena Mossgraves
strangling
I struggle to breathe,
the tightness nearly
breaking me...
pull the strings,
tighter still,
for vanity demands
the corset drawn
to bone tight.
Murder
by Serena Mossgraves
A murder takes flight
on wings of shadow
against a field of
the purest white
towards an azure sky.
I find myself wanting
to join them,
spreading wings and
taking flight.
The extreme beauty
in the difference
between the
shadow and the light,
fills the world
with wistful imagination.
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.
One Candle
by Serena Mossgraves
is it too much
to light a single candle,
to illuminate the world
one small light at a time?
One Candle to fight the darkness,
one Candle to push the dreary away.
I am not trying to rid the world
of all the darkness,
That is too much for me to try,
I just want to push some light
into the world so that I might see.
One Candle is enough for me.
Pattimouse 