Following, is one of my own poems.
Come, take my hand ... and go with me ... to a place far away ... and yet so near ... a mystery.
A land where things ever shift and escape me ... what was only a moment ago ... now is not.
A land at once wonderous and frightening ... why do I always have to go there alone? Come, take my hand ... this time I will try to take you with me ... while I wander through the maze of unknown faces ... and often distorted places.
It seems in dreams, I live another life ... no ... many lives ... sometimes so familiar but still unknown. Often more real than this one, when awake. I fear to go there alone.
Come, take my hand ... Where am I? Who am I? Who are you ... are you who you seem to be? Are you friend or enemy? You are one and then everything shifts and you become another.
Come, take my hand
... and go with me ... and this
time we will solve the mystery of me and you and
... my land of dreams.
February 1, 1999
FLOWERS A
color so bright, A texture so
gentle, A
flower, October 1,
1998
by...Kimberly
A
fragrance so
sweet,
breathe deep,
breathe deep,
amazing sight,
amazing sight,
soft touch,
soft touch,
nothing can compare,
God's
gift,
God's gift,
to the
world.
HAPPINESS
by...Pricilla Leonard
Happiness is like a crystal,
You may find a bit of beauty,
Yet the wise as on they journey ###
The poem below was written by a I hesitate as I take them I take a
fork and stir As it thickens, ### WHEN
I'M AN OLD WOMAN I shall sit down on the pavement when I
am tired I shall go out in my slippers in
the rain You can wear
terrible shirts and grow more fat But now we must have our clothes that
keep us dry Maybe I ought to
practice a little now? ###
Fair and exquisite and clear,
Broken in a million pieces,
Shattered, scattered far and near.
Now and then along life's pathway,
Lo! some shining fragments fall;
But there are so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.
Or an honest share of wealth,
While another just beside you
Fathers honor, love or health.
Vain to choose or grasp unduly,
Broken is the perfect ball;
And there are so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.
Treasure every fragment clear,
Fit them as they may together,
Imaging the shattered sphere,
Learning ever to be thankful,
Though their share of it is small;
For it has so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.
friend of
mine, now deceased.
It was written when she
was in her 80's.
by...Genevieve
~o~
I open the
refrigerator door
and a breeze touches my
face.
I remove the carton top and
count.
Yes, enough left to make scrambled
eggs.
From their
dream of feathers.
I break them open in a
bowl.
They look at me unsmilingly.
Until the yolks have mixed with
cream
And salt and pepper.
The butter
splatters in the pan
And I pour in the mixture.
I lift it from side to side to center.
It
bubbles, rises, changing color.
It
trembles!
again, I hesitate -
We, too, are
stirred and turned and lifted
From our
dreams.
by...Jenny
Joseph
When I am an old woman
I shall
wear purple
With a red hat that doesn't go,
and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my
pension on brandy
And summer gloves...And
satin sandals,
and say we've no money for
butter.
And gobble up samples in shops and
press alarm bells
And run my stick along the
public railings,
And make up for the sobriety
of my youth.
And pick the flowers in other peoples
gardens
And learn to spit.
And eat
three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread
and pickles for a week.
And hoard pens and
pencils and beermats
and things in
boxes.
And pay our rent and not swear in
the street
And set a good example for the
children.
We must have friends to
dinner
and read the papers.
So people who know me
are not too
shocked and surprised
When
suddenly I am old,
And start to wear
purple.