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Neva Brown Poem
AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT
Night had fallen
and the twilight sky grew dark
A soft wind whistled
across the pine trees bark
In the silence
we walked along, not holding hands
We felt our love
was drifting with the time worn sands
~
Clouds mingled high among bright silver stars
that sparkled in the distant sky
We knew the time had come and lingered long
afraid to be the one to say goodbye
~
Now, when I hear the church bells
deep at night,
I cry
For the love we felt so wrong, was right
When I hear
the mournful stroke of midnight
I know it means
that he, no more will hold me tight
©N L B
3/14/09
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
It hung in the closet
long after he was gone
the scent of his cologne
lingering there
The cuffs were worn and shabby
Colors faded from the sun
I would pack it with the other things
his watch and silver cuff links
memories from the past
I could not part with
As I started to gently fold it
the tears I had held back
now came pouring down my cheeks
like salty rain
I buried my face in the faded shirt
long after he was gone
and the scent of his cologne
still lingered there
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2007
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Neva Brown Poem
I heard a child's laughter
it wavered in the breeze
coming from somewhere in my mind
across a world of seas
T' was like a faintly tinkling bell
so far away it flew
and fluttered like a butterfly
across a sky of blue
I know not where it came from
but as I knelt to pray
I heard my child's laughter
long ago and far away
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2007
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Neva Brown Poem
I lay here, half awake
seeing shadows of trees
leaves swaying
In the faint Autumn breeze
making patterns on my bedroom wall
now still
now moving as cars rush by
their headlights
splashing a golden glow
into the darkness
keeping me awake
so that I see shadows of trees
making patterns on my bedroom wall
© NLB
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
Gramma's sewing basket
Overflowed with bits of fluff
Ribbons from a cardboard roll
That weren't quite big enough
Buttons in all sizes
And colors rolled around
If it happened to tip over
And spill onto the ground
The yarn left from my mittens
And scarf and baby glove
She knitted on a cold night
Entwined with so much love
Shiny needles packaged
Some filled with tails of thread
Blue and green and yellow
And several trailed red
Tiny beads of crystal
Made into a ring
Lay there on the bottom
On a golden stretchy string
Lace wrapped on a wooden spool
Soft pink and pale blue
Left from making outfits
That we too soon outgrew
I cherish that wicker basket
That Gramma used for mends
It's like her life and love goes on
And never ever ends
©Neva Loretta Brown
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
I wonder
do you hear the pleas
the sound of whispers
thru the trees
someone calling
far away
begging, please
take me away
do you realize
my pain
how I need shelter
from the bitter rain
how I want
to know you care
tell me please
that you are there
are you aware
could you be alert
to all the harmful
words that hurt
let me know
that someone cares
I need you to hear
my lonesome prayers
©Neva Loretta Brown
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
Something creeps through my room
in the dead of night
hovers in the air
but out of sight
Whispers I hear
a strange gutteral sound
wind swept curtains
swirling 'round and around
is it my imagination
or do they laugh at me
sending chills up my spine
are they coming for me
a shadow I see
out the corner of my eye
disappearing again
when I cringe with a sigh
I dare not move
lest they find me now
can they see the sweat
that slides down my brow
these things that I feel
are they really there
do they want to be friends
or just want to scare
something sweeps thru my room
in the dead of night
hiding away
wiith morning's first light
but tonight when it grows dark
they'll creep back to me
shadows from the past
that I care not to see
©NLB
8/2/07
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
What forest stands with trees so old
for no man dared to hew them down
whose storied lives could be foretold
from prairie lands to distant town
~
Tho ancient man fought wars they waged
and blood that seeped into the ground
yet even when their voices raged
these trees stood silently around
~
Thus darkly shadowed there within
we see the wild ones dwelling now
who none would thus commit a sin
or even know the reason how
~
Now ghostly sentinels they stand
and reach up to the golden suns
whose roots cling roughly to the land
whereby a quiet stream that runs
~
Such secrets kept will not be told
for in this forests ancient land
where many died tho they grew bold
yet still their souls live deep in sand
©Neva Loretta Brown
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
MISSING HIM
I thought I heard him call me
imagination, so it seems
I loved to listen to his voice
but now, it’s just in dreams
If he had only asked
I would have followed anywhere
If he had only loved me
but, he didn’t even care
©NLB
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2009
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Neva Brown Poem
High in the sky
on a warm Spring day
white clouds come alive
with kites colored bright
They float on the breeze
their tails do sway
circles of rainbows
a child's delight
Some dip in the wind
and soar over the bay
looking like swallows
in playful flight
Too soon we grow up
and the fun fades away
still the child in us clings
to the string of a kite
Copyright © Neva Brown | Year Posted 2007
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