No one tucked her into bed that night, so long ago
Still, she said her prayers and kissed her own hand,
Waited, then whispered to no one, "If you say so..."
She was an easy child, she made no demand
Perhaps that was the red flag and we chose to ignore
Hasn't everyone once stood like an ostrich with head in sand?
Her prayer to angels unseen began like before
"Angel of God, my guardian dear..."
But mid-way she began to implore
"God, please let me know you're there, that you hear...
...for I have sinned in the worst way and don't know
what the consequence will be. Death, I fear."
Nestled in her trundle, on a patch of a Texan plateau
She tearfully, fearfully cried out to her Lord.
That's when she said, "If you say so...."
What answer did she hear that restored
Her faith and quieted her uncertain grace?
Silent in life as in death, she found her reward.
Dawn shed rays to no avail upon her waxen face.
She lay, for now, in purgatory's space.
Showing posts with label love poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love poem. Show all posts
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Note to a Friend
(KarenL)
I like to think about you
sitting at home, reading Joel or Corinthians
turning each thin sheet
down for the evening as you climb
into bed
as you climb into the ether
of dreams and desire
I like to think about you
stitching a quilt while
Too-Too and Rascal
climb on your squares
kneading their paws on
freshly stitched muslin
their claws catching and snagging
without care
I'd like to think you
were thinking of me, too
as I sit here empty
waiting for thoughts to fill
my head
and my keyboard
until they flood out onto the screen
making oodles of money
as editors climb over one
another in excitement to be the first
publisher of my next masterpiece.
(KarenL)
I like to think about you
sitting at home, reading Joel or Corinthians
turning each thin sheet
down for the evening as you climb
into bed
as you climb into the ether
of dreams and desire
I like to think about you
stitching a quilt while
Too-Too and Rascal
climb on your squares
kneading their paws on
freshly stitched muslin
their claws catching and snagging
without care
I'd like to think you
were thinking of me, too
as I sit here empty
waiting for thoughts to fill
my head
and my keyboard
until they flood out onto the screen
making oodles of money
as editors climb over one
another in excitement to be the first
publisher of my next masterpiece.
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