Covert Novelist

Home » Poetry

Category Archives: Poetry

Vulnerable

 

26139_392404787391_6728696_n

We were young, just twenty-one

Yet I knew you were the one

Stardust once was in my eyes

My love for you I vocalized

Together as one you and I

Forever together do or die

So certain we would last for years

Sadly drowning in an ocean of tears

Romantic illusions broken and crushed

Around me, all have turned to dust

Pick myself up and dust myself off

Trying not at true love to scoff

Other possibilities before me lay

Perhaps a true love I’ll find one day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knackered

Knackered

MAXINE tired

Ever felt so knackered

Even thought was scattered

You had to ask if someone

Saw you climb in bed, anyone?

I must have run a marathon

For I surely feel exhausted

Not bright or chipper, just addlepated

Yes my get up and go, surely got up and went

That pillow fight that I lost, I seriously lament

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

beyond compare

 

 

 

Blanket

Blanket

20161209_125049 spring blossoms

summer picscropped-flowers-008.jpg

 

A blanket of snow covers the land

Twinkling, sparkling, gloves in hand

We rush to greet pure white pristine snow

Our faces awash with expectant glow

Spring now upon us, buds so lush

Such delight awaits a painters brush

How entrancing are blossoms in bloom

Amid an ever-changing fragrant costume

A blanket of azure blue skies overhead

Whispers and promises of warm days ahead

Picnics, climbing, swimming and more

Oh how these changing blankets I adore

As blankets of orange, red and gold

A tale of upcoming winter foretold

Each resplendent with beauty and grace

Bringing warm smiles to everyone’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roots

Roots

 

roots

Those without roots, always adrift

Never belonging life is makeshift

Wandering roaming, minute fragments

No solidarity with no attachments

Gathering no dust, not settled or part

Of what makes up life, right from the start

Roots give us essence as human beings

Evidence of generations never fleeting

For some it is everything knowing they belong

While for others it just a melody in a song

 

 

 

 

 

Gray

Gray

gray mist

sunlight trees

In a world of black or white

Standing amid a bright spotlight

How I longed for midnight blue

To replace this grayed in hue

Of nothingness that surrounds

Emptiness within abounds

Erase the gray admit the light

Forever happiness shine bright

Beauty of melody encompasses me

Rainbows sunlight songs of glee

Forever held in such esteem

Never more the gray be seen

 

Zip

Zip

OAK

Rose brought a tray of lemonade out to the elderly woman sitting in the rocking chair.  she hadn’t heard Rose’s approach, but it didn’t matter, her thoughts were obviously a million miles away in another time and another place.

Rose touched her hand and Mrs. Addison’s glance turned toward her the undefined look diminishing from her eyes.  “Thank you, dear.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Addison, my pleasure.”

“Now where were we?”  Mrs. Addison asked

“You were explaining the oak trees.”

“Ah yes, we had such zip, such pizzazz, nothing held us back.  Papa had planted the trees when I was seven or eight. I couldn’t wait to see them grow.  I’m pleased they are still here.  Such memories associated with those trees.”  Her sigh contained pleasure.

Longingly she looks back

Memories scents of lilac

Papa planting the old oak trees

She was at his side on bent knees

Oh how they would zip and run

A game of tag they’d just begun

Her first kiss under that oak

So discreet they thought to cloak

Their rendezvous camouflaged

Until papa showed up sabotaged

By her mean little sister full of tales

Following her down all the trails

Eagerly waiting to catch her slip

Holding onto bargaining chips

Indeed the tales, if trees could talk

About the lives and paths, they’d walked

 

 

 

 

Avid

An Ode To Sarah Doughty

Avid

Eager as your words struck a chord

Knowledge new as yet unexplored

Now ravenous hunger and thirst

An appetite to be appeased first

The need to know and understand

Glasses no longer on a nightstand

Hours pass as fervently I read

Not once but twice I must reread

Compassion care devotion you give

So other may face fears and therefore live

Awareness created in those fearful

Opening doors seeing the unspeakable

Open your hearts be part of the healing

Accept, arms open wide, so appealing

Avid be your support for those suffering

 

 

 

 

%d bloggers like this: