Finding My Way

http://dversepoets.com/

I lay in your wings,

your voice was my music.

I inhaled your words,

as my breath.

I gave you my heart,

as my soul lay naked in your palm.

My sunflower died the other day,

just like something died inside

of me, when I came undone,

when I lost my voice,

when my dream began to crumble.

I was no longer nestled in your wings,

I was falling,

I was holding,

I was waiting,

for you to listen to my cries.

We Remember-Ten Years

I saw her in a magazine,
I read her words,
" he would have liked me",
she said.
Her eyes deep ocean blue,
filled with infinite sadness.
The necklace she wears,
has his image,
like the image she carries in her heart.
She never met him,
her hero,
her father.
He died that dreadful September day,
the day the world changed.
I wish I could embrace her,
and tell her that he would like her,
that he would love her,
that he watches her with his angel wings.
I wish I could tell her that we remember
that day,
that we would never forget,
that we feel her pain,
that we carry the pain,
like a scar in our soul.

Ten Years

September morning,
strong, dark cappuccino sipped
in fragile cups.
Good Morning America on the television,
our newborn slept soundly,
our high school age son was sleeping too.
Then in an instant,
nothing felt the same.
Shattered lives,
shattered dreams,
images branded in our mind.
Hollow sadness, despair, tears flowing.
Ten years later,
our thoughts laced together,
endless conversations,
about this moment.
A moment of sacrifice ,
a moment of pride,
a moment of to unite us all.


A poem I wrote in May that my friend Leslie said I should re-post for the anniversary of 9/11. Thank you, Leslie. 

Moved

http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/

Your words spin, I stand still.
Your words move me, lure me.
Unwrap me with your tender kiss,
taste the watermelon on my lips.
I bathe in the sun's rays,
summer waltzed in and now departed,
fall seducing like a new lover.
I left home so long ago,
lift me to the sky and
I will kiss the clouds above.
I left my red galoshes behind,
I left my books home unattended.
I embraced an armful of dreams,
as I moved across the ocean.
Finding a new life and home,
my heart moves with eternal gratitude.

Reality

http://dversepoets.com/

She stormed in,
"I just saw an amazing bumper sticker." she said,
" Buy American the job you may save is your own."
Bold letters etched in my memory,
that was twenty five years ago.
A dialogue among friends began,
twenty five years have passed.
The market saturated with cheap imports,
seduced by low prices,
the dialogue continues.
Like the seasons the world has changed,
like a marriage that's come undone.
Attempts to stimulate the economy
have fallen weak.
The middle class disappear,
the poor bleed,
dreams shatter.
We wait to be romanced by politicians ,
but there is no poetry in poverty,
there's no humanity on shutting the doors to
the crying need.
We are left hanging, waiting for answers,
that just don't come.

Last Year In Rome

Paris In June