Poems

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Purple heavens
Shining down
Touching my earth
Feelings hidden from the sky

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Touch.
A beautiful sensation,
tingling upon my skin.
An angel's breath,
causing a blush.
Sweet whispers of silk,
brushing tenderly across.
Tiny pinpoints of excitement,
boiling over.
Touch.

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Blinding eyes
Eyesof his soul
So pure and real
A sweet paragon
Two perfect beings
Part of a whole

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An angel's footsteps,
walking in my dream.
His pure, sweet voice,
as clear as a light beam.
It calls to me,
I move to him.
His hand moves out to touch,
I'm still as a manequin.

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Would you hold me in your sweet embrace;
Within your strong, warm arms?
To keep me safe, and calm my fears,
against this world's harms?
I yearn to feel your softest kiss,
from long, silk, lashes: black
To hear you speak those words of Love,
and to know for once that no one will ever take them back.
It hurts to know I'm all alone,
I too, cry and bleed.
Many things, with nurturing,
could grow from this tiny, fragile seed.
I hope my Angel comes for me,
and takes me far away.
My Angel then will comfort me,
until my dying day.

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(This one is unfinished.)

A blank white page and nothing more,
A bright young child, only four.
She draws, she paints, giggles with glee,
Oh, what it must be like to feel so free.

Another page, ten years down the road,
An impressionable young teen, with quite the heavy load.
She ponders the page, it's wide open space,
And feels like she's nothing: an utter disgrace.

(To be con't.)

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Dark clouds,
A thunder's crash;
A sleeting sky,
A lightning's flash.

A tender chylde,
A bleeding heart;
Hurting feelings,
A needless part.

A copper coffin,
A dead young soul;
A crying family,
No longer whole

Ashes and dust,
Nothing more;
No chylde's laugh
Not anymore.

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