Kleenex In My Pocket

 

 

Kleenex in my pocket

Brushed away the tears.

Scarlet threads of longing

Dress a canopy of fears

Once so bright and sunny

Love now spiced with dread.

As Solomon said long ago

Don’t try to raise the dead

Swim the rolling waves            

Trust the sun will rise

A future for the brave

Bring bouquets of flowers

And smiles your future craves.

My Lovely Butterfly

A short poem from a faraway land known as boyhood.

She came to me, sweet butterfly

Softly, gently flower to flower.

Her wings enveloped with delight,

At my time to fill her lips, for

Nectar sweet I had to give

And give I did with all my heart.

A magic moment, just as

Fast as wings aflutter

Left a memory that lasts

And harbors still within my dreams.

I never knew to which new

Rose or daffodil or other garden.

It was enough to feel the brushing

Of her lovely wings.

Ashes of Love, a Poem

Ashes of Love

I have no reason to remember,

Was it May or late September?

Oh how years have fluttered fast

Fleeting glimpses of the past.

Jagged stubble, splintered posts

Leaving only cindered ghosts

Once my heart so brightly beating

Then with fires of love retreating.

Oh it was so long ago

When my heart was broken so.

Even now I don’t recall

The color of her hair at all.

Only phantoms pass me by

Of the blueness of her eyes

And the way my heart would sing

But now is now and that was then.

----William Stroud