A Patient Time
A time for waiting,a hibernation
Before we follow through on dreams
Careful planning,with determination
Putting away halfed baked schemes
No day or night is ever wasted
Patience builds slowly day by day
The fruit of forbearance is soon tasted
Sweet as honey where we lay
Suddenly we are engaged in life
Our souls’desire reaches out
And wraps its lasso around the moment
Discarding all our useless doubts
Erotic Fantasy On A City Bus
Vacous eyes staring across the way
Becoming lost in my fantasies and lust
Dreaming up scenarios to escape the day
Escaping boredom on this city bus
I focus on him slithering in his chair
Feeling a desire and longing to touch
Avoiding his glance,he is unaware
of how I desire him,so very much
Suddenly,the bus comes to a halt.
Seemingly occupied,I miss my street
I sprint to the exit,It’s all my fault.
Glad to be away from all the heat.
Color of The Earth
Beautiful color of the Earth,that I do love.
You strike my senses and fill my soul with glee.
Your vibrant hues fill the lovely sky above,
And bring out the autumn color of the trees.
Your pumpkin hues and copper shades fill the fields.
Deserts bright and Midwest skies stun our sight.
With glorius light that brightens and yields.
You warm me with your healing touch so bright.
Yet your fire destroys man and beast around,
But also warms all living things on earth.
Of molten lava,clay and rock on solid ground,
You amaze all with your miraculous birth.
Of vibrant fruits the earth does yield to all,
Is a tangy bright citrus shaped like a ball.
Spring Laying In Wait
Beneath the barren white covered Grass
Lies new seeds awaiting an entrance en masse
Beneath the white covered barren trees
Lay new spring flowers eager to please
The silence of winter skies,soon gives way
To familiar chirping of birds who will stay
And fill us with song to brighten our day
Ordinary people will walk with such ease
As snow is replaced by a warmer breeze
Coats will be shed for sweaters that flow
As children run through the streets below
We’ll open our windows to breath the air
To feel the spring breeze though our hair.
From Sorrow to Acceptance
On sorrows’wings I journeyed to a land where I had never been.
Each loss was undiscovered country,landscapes I had never seen,mountains I had never climbed. I had taken a journey past familiar landmarks I missed, and memories that were past.I had buried the familiar stories and neglected the happiness,which lay buried deep beneath the earth,only now and then pushing to the surface. I drank from bitter springs and sat among the weeds,neglecting to seperate them from the flowers.
Beheld only the sunsetting but forgot the beauty in each new day. When I had shed enough tears,I remembered the laughter echoing in the valley and heard the birds chirping a new song. I saw the sun reflecting on the water.
and instead of weeds,I saw flowers. Where there were empty patches of dirt,I saw seedlings and the possibility of new beginnings.
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Frances is a middle aged poet who has written mostly about loss and renewal. Her professional background is in Social Work. Visit her She Writes page. |
I wrote all of these poems in my mid forties.It was the first time I ever wrote anything.