Saturday, February 23, 2013

Joy renewed

Upon the tip of laughter brings
the time of hope and joy begins
My soul alive from death's cold touch
to hear the music, to feel so much

I harken to the joyful sounds
of children playing, no ills abound
The hallways filled with happy thoughts
is this heaven, I think but naught.

This is the place where hearts are true
the sounds of joy, great love renew
Rejoice my soul, take heart and sing
I am the blessed, my body new.

Can price be placed upon this thought
can love be bundled, packaged not
My smile is painted, but fake its not
It goes from ear to other side
and tells how much that I can't hide.

- Trish 2013

Monday, February 4, 2013

At the window

She sits upon the window sill
arrayed in blankets warmly still
Her face contains the pain of time
her body wracked with painful rhyme

She peers out into the wintery site
the snow falls gently arrays in white
Her thoughts not dare to future think
she has her sentence, she's on the brink

Like the man condemned to die
Not crime committed nor evil rye
Innocent of all, not fair
Condemned no less, her heart in tears

She longs to run, to walk, to play
for laughter, fun, all this not stay
right here to take the daily pain
and watch as body withers away

Why her, why now, she wants but fun
the things pile high she's never done
To climb great peaks long ways from home
To dive the depths with fishes run

Instead its here upon this sill
she waits and sits and stays quite still
for this her lot, her bane, her fate
though teary stained, she has no hate

- Trish 2013

Friday, February 1, 2013

My time

This early morning hour is mine
I stir alone no others pine
My heart is free to roam and dance
Whilst others sleep and dream at last

I roam my thoughts far and wide
I'm first a pirate then a bride
My pen it travels to and fro
To capture thoughts and silly rhymes

This time I take just for me
It sits and waits like cat in tree
For me to ponder happy thoughts
or silly wanderings of my heart

If you never have this time
My heart is sad for missed sublime
Come hither hearken to its call
Grab pen for note and have a ball

- Trish 2013