Elizabeth | |
PROFILE About me Friends (2) Poetry (15) Photography (17) Graphics (1) Postcards (1) Diary (1) |
Elizabeth, 2 june 2012
A man in uniform, all dressed up,
Saved my country and I.
Now we wait to see his fate,
When I see him arrive I cry.
Tears of sorrow streak down my face.
My heros lying-dead!
Tell me now! As I weep!
Where’s God’s redeeming grace?
But then I see it, clear as day,
It’s in the many lives he saved.
Selfishly, I weep some more.
Why did my man have to go to the grave?
Hundreds, thousands, gather now.
His funeral is at hand.
So many people came to thank,
My hero in the ground.
Elizabeth, 2 january 2012
Dear, I need to tell you something.
Let me whisper in your ear,
Three little words you already know,
That will surely bring you cheer.
I love you.
Last night when we were fighting,
I said some nasty things,
But I could never really hate you,
Your apart of me.
I love you.
I wish I could make you know,
This love that runs so deep,
I am positively helpless without you,
I cry myself to sleep.
I love you.
Don’t tell me I’m too optimistic,
Don’t tell me true loves not real,
When you are the one that shows me the truth,
Let me teach you to feel.
I love you.
Darling, please don’t leave me,
My heart will break in two,
And you will have the larger half,
Couse’ dear, my love’s that true.
And by the way,
I,
Love,
You.
Elizabeth, 26 december 2011
Ageing
The time has come,
I must admit,
For bigger sweaters
and knitting kits.
For wigs or hair die,
coffee or tea.
For losing your mind,
your money, and keys.
For 'In My Day,'
and 'When I was a Lad',
For having to buy,
the large print page.
For politics, weather,
and gasoline prices.
For being to old,
to use new devices.
And by the time you realize,
that, yes, it's true,
You will be in heaven,
reborn and renewed! ! !
Elizabeth, 26 december 2011
Stage Fright
I’m no good at poetry,
I cannot make a rhyme.
I talk to fast or much to slow,
I can’t keep track of time!
Whenever I am up on stage,
I feel like I might faint!
Should I worry? Is that natural?
I'll see a doctor if it ain’t!
I can hear when I mess up,
Better than when I do good.
Nervous breaths of indecision,
By the crowd are understood.
I must move-always wiggle,
Tuck my hair behind my ear.
Slightly swaying side to side,
Your disapproval-my biggest fear.
When it’s over I always smile,
I’m blushing more and more!
The noise of clapping and of cheers,
I’ll know forever more!
Elizabeth, 26 december 2011
On the Way to the Valley of the Angels
A long time ago, far away in Honduras,
We drove down a road as a large group of tourists.
The path was not straight nor smooth or easy,
And the longer we were on it the more we felt queasy,
On the way to the Valley of the Angels.
And we rode and we bumped and we jumbled and we jumped,
With blue skies above us and our pathway before us,
On the way to the Valley of the Angels.
And when the roads were not paved we felt close to our grave,
But when the roads were not gravel we were happy to travel,
On the way to the valley of the Angels.
And we rode and we bumped and we jumbled and we jumped,
With blue skies above us and our pathway before us,
On the way to the Valley of the Angels.
And when we finally stopped we got out and shopped,
And though it was fun our time at last was done.
So back in the car again we travelled far,
On the way from the Valley of the Angels.
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