Modern Day Shakespeare

I can't take all the credit for this poem. Two of my friends and I made this one in High School for an English class. It was a rather fun assignment. To take the poem, "To Be or Not to Be" and change it but still have the same flow and 'language' type thing if you know what I mean. 

To Date or Not to Date

To date or not to date - that is the question:

Whether 'tis easier to say yes,

And feel the effects of unwanted attention,

Or to suffer the guilt of no,

And shelter yourself in seclusion.

To enjoy the company of well known friends,

No more dwelling in self pity.

In preparation for the date,

Passing time is a trying wait.

The evening nights run long and short.

To date, or not,

To freefall into chance

Ay, there's the problem.

For in trusting another with one's heart,

When our emotions aren't clear,

Hesitation lingers in the mind.

A chance worth taking.

Two very different futures, one choice to make.

Back when I was a 9th grader, I had a talent that I didn't know I had, until it was discovered by accident. It consumed me, gave me a thrill. A few months later I was told that I had two choices, to continue and devote myself, perfect it to the point of being someday famous, or to drop it. 

Today . . . I am happy with the life I have. 

The Choice

The race of my heart,

racing with my mind.

Thrill of excitement,

has a price to pay.

Voices demanding,

of what I must do.

The race with my body and spirit.

Who will win?

Through the biting cold darkness,

I wander.

I’m lost and confused.

I pray, pleading and wishing,

for comfort and guidance.

Silent tears run down my face,

I try to figure out,

which path I must take.

Each has a different future.

The decision,

what to do, cuts into me.

Like my blades,

that cut into the ice.

Then came the peace,

my answer.

It’s going to be ok.

I took a step forward,

with a smile on my face.

With peace and faith,

in my heart.

Darkness and pain

It's here

It's here.

Waiting in the dark, staring at me.

Frozen on the spot.

Two blue eyes.

Bright with new fire.

They look familiar, hurt and pain reflect.

A light passes by. The eyes are my own.

Mothers and their babies

I wrote this a few years back, thinking about my mom. I gave her a precious moments figurine of a mother holding a baby and the title of it, I made the title for this poem. 

A love like no other

A smile and tiny fingers curl,

a coo and a giggle.

Arms lovingly surrounding and protecting,

the bundle that continues to wiggle.

There is a pure and innocent love,

a love like no other.

An enduring love, a bonding love,

one that is easily returned to each other.

A pair of eyes, looking up,

dependent on that love.

A pair of eyes, looking down,

watching the precious gift sent from above.

There is a pure and innocent love,

a love like no other.

It is a love of a mother.

Greeting the morning

Angel's Masterpiece                                                                                                           

Light and truth shining.

Drops of color, brushed by tears.

New joys to be found.

The sun's birth, rays in the East.

A new beauty, in every day.

My heart belongs to one man . . . my eternal love.

Wrote this poem for my husband as a birthday gift before we were married. Now he carries it with him wherever he goes. :) Tomorrow will be our one year anniversary of being married and almost two years of meeting each other. 

AlwaysTogether                                                                                                                      

Always together,

you and me.

More than forever,

that's how we'll be.

With love so strong,

unbound and free.

It couldn't be wrong,

just watch and see.

A happy glow,

that's in our eyes,

farther then we know

past the earth and skies.

You're my other half,

you're my other wing.

You make me laugh,

my heart to sing.

Always together,

we hold the key.

Stronger than forever,

into eternity.

Tribute to April, see ya next year.

April Showers                                                                                                                   

Storms often sing songs.

Listen, drums play and flutes sing.

Air is fresh and new.