This is a collection that provides a glimpse into the heart, mind, and soul, of its author. It is a heartwarming read, written with love and respect for others. Some poems were written in times of sorrow, others in joyous celebration. Life is like that.
IN A LAND ONCE CALLED PARADISE
The road seemed endless,
with each step they took.
Weighed down by their gear,
emotions and fear.
They walked on every so fast.
Knowing each step might be their last.
The rain poured and the sun beat down.
As each side’s casualty became a mass.
Sounds of guns echoed all around.
As refuge became weeds and tall grass.
Each soldiers level of honor and courage was found.
As they fought bravely alongside the screams and death sounds.
While evils of man lingered amongst fields of rice,
devastation reigned in a land once called paradise.
SOMETHING EVIL STIRS
Something evil stirs in my town.
A growing unrest.
A defiant unease, a growing anxiety.
Moving ever so softly, like whispers on the wind.
This thing comes swiftly.
No warning-as silent as breath.
Drenched in malice, it nears.
A friend to chaos, sloth and death.
So quick-a malignant mass.
Leaving behind the useless and morally dead.
So forceful, that many become chaff.
Consuming everything within my town.
It fed well-as always.
Until the next time-devouring all.
Slipping into homes, like fog on the bay.
Youthful disenchantment suffocates all.
Beware the beast is red as fire.
A mass of hate and poison.
Our dictators battle the war with little success,
for the King and his court, squabble like school boys.
Only harmony will sooth the beast.
A legion of unity, to succeed is needed.
Something evil stirs.
I am ready-standing tall and strong.
I draw strength from within.
Honor rules my mind.
Courage stirs my desire to win.
For the beast is-procrastination.
Ode to Keesha (my granddaughter)
Her past four years felt like an eternity,
as we watched her grow and see…
From the mom who urged her to do better.
To the fine woman she turned out to be.
Her awkward times, turned to cherished memories,
and the crowded halls she learned to call home.
The Indian mascot defined her;
and “The Times of My Life,” her graduation song.
Those rough years became her joy,
as high school trained her for life’s hurdles.
From the tantrums and parties she threw.
To her many admirers who smiled and pursued.
Most strangers she now calls friends.
A makeshift family to love to the end.
Her life is now a bright future,
as petty jealousies and heartbreaks mend.
She’s not a little girl anymore.
But nearly grown and out the door.
Long after the drama, she’ll realize how far,
her tears, and hard work got her.