Best Sister Poems
~Summer’s Eve ~
I am a woman!
I am proud-
I am everything you want.
Plus more
The adoring wife,
A beautiful mother,
A grandmother a granddaughter
A daughter, a sister,
A lover, the aunt.
Your enemy, your friend.
I am a working lady.
A widow left behind.
I AM!
The Spawn of Adam's rib-
I AM!
A mentor throughout this world.
A lady with class, sometimes a material girl.
A flower, and the sound of rain.
I am the color of the rainbow.
I am deeper than the sea.
I am the pink ribbon you wear.
I am delicate like snow.
I AM!
The sun and the moon in your eyes.
A twister during dark skies.
I AM!
The Daughter of Eve-
And, here is the only feeling I want to endorse.
Summer's Eve.
*****
In honor and appreciation to all the women of the world.
Happy Mother’s day!
By;PD
POTD 10th May 2018
A dedication to our departed Mum, Anne Forbes.
And to all the dearly departed Mums who celebrate Mother’s day on the second Sunday in May. We will meet again.
The day came when she had to leave
And we were left behind to grieve
If we could wish her back for a day
A million things we would need to say
As exquisite as painted silk these wings
I soar past clouds ~ with a Soul that sings
Every precious moment by her side
Fighting back tears we hold inside
Knowing she would go away
The Wish ~ was only for a day.
In a whirl of color flying fast
Hastening to a future of Ever last
A Wish granted ~ a butterfly in our midst
An astral sensation like we’ve been kissed
The Sun shines brighter on this glorious day
The whispering breeze that seems to say
Pearlescent petals in the air
Shimmering sun beams everywhere
I’m always here ~ I watch you all
And comfort you if you falter or fall
So dry your tears ~ no need to grieve
My tangible form ~ you must believe
I never left ~ I love you still
To Eternity’s end ~ I always will
On a whispering wind that gently sighs
I fly like a butterfly ~ there are no goodbyes
POTD 10th May 2018
Video Clip:
"On The Wings Of A Butterfly" by Jimmy Scott.
I s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her arms. She never knew how much I needed her. I s l i p p e d in a puddle and I died in her soul. She never knew how much I needed her. Between yesterday’s old coffee and today's bright doom I broke in half. My heart slipped away into the hell of her death and my mind created LOST memories. So many moments of despair she held, and so many times of loneliness I lived. Beneath the darkness of the moon I drowned in a river created from her pain. It engulfed me into oblivion and I shall never be the same again. Sisters need each other and I needed her. Life seems over and death seems so FINAL.
teardrops in her arms-
woe brings rivers of d r o w n i n g
DEATH by suicide
I s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her misery. She never knew how much I loved her. I s l i p p e d in a puddle and I died in her heart. She never knew how much I loved her. After the downpour of anguish I fell asleep. Nightmares of our final hug GOODBYE. If only I had held on longer maybe she would have felt more love from me. Maybe enough love to keep her alive. For she never realized how much her pain caused me heartache. She bled in sadness and I bleed in regret. No time to heal because healing is no more. Life seems dark and death seems so BLEAK.
one final goodbye-
not enough pure love from me
two dead souls bleeding
I s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her remorse. She never knew how much I longed for her. I s l i p p e d in a puddle and I died in her essence. She never knew how much I longed for her. Before she was born she was already gone. A lifetime of sorrow and feeling different. It was hard for her to be a lesbian. Too hard. RIDICULED and damaged beyond repair. No more light at the end of her tunnel and the lessening of sunshine during her days. It’s depressing to think about what she felt her final moments of life. Her goodbye letter was awful. Full of pain and too much grief for me to read. I keep it in a journal tucked gently away. One day I will pull it out and read it again. Life seems wrong and death seems so BLACK.
suffered from regret-
too flawed and b r o k e n to heal
sister’s forever
~She s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her grave~
Date Written: June 21, 2016
With wings of golden starlight your spirits flare
Each woman burst forth a steadfast astral pyre
Your valiant souls are / defying / confining
the tethered snare
Like distant suns that are piercing the boundless mire
With hearts unyielding you are shatter iron grates
Your unshackled wings where shadows once confined
And in your touch,
love's caresses, gentle graces
A serenade of voices, together
softly intertwined.
Through time's grand halls your histories reside
Your footprints pressing...
on ever-shifting sands
With every single verse
a truth you cannot hide
For you mend the world with...
steady guiding hands
O gracious women, blessed with beauty /
fierce and bold.
In every realm
your being we cherish
and behold.
-----
“No matter how tired you are, no matter how physically exhausting this work may be, it's beautiful to bring a smile into someone's life, to care for someone in need. What greater joy can there be?” Mother Teresa
"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will." - Charlotte Brontë
She's like the night, a lampshade lit across the room
also a rose in a summer garden always ready to bloom
She's like a thousand stars surrounding the moon
a celestial scene of beauty here then gone too soon
Ink Empress of the site she comments like an Angel
always kind and always perceptive she enables
Ink Empress of my heart, you make me grateful
for you read my poetry but, you never label...
You are a cyber friend from afar a leading star
a Paridot of the sky with a hue one cannot mar
Without soul blemish you always win by far
for your kindness and gentleness, is on par
Ink Empress of the night you contain so my sight,
that even the quill of a bird, can see your light.
Written by: Your Mystic Rose
***
This is a tribute to a dear poet who always makes us feel at home,
and if you haven't read her poetry yet, please drop by her
page and read her, she's one amazing lady.
Bestowed with femininity,
wisdom, elegance, and grace,
exemplifying dignity,
daughter of the human race.
X chromosome integrity
ordains attributes endowed,
according by propensity,
a nature kind and proud.
Beauty and vitality
anoint her noble gender,
magnum opus artistry
imparts celestial splendor.
Her marvelous complexity
gives complementary disposition
to valiant masculinity
for a perfect coalition.
Exquisite physiology
yields licentious pleasure due
the wanton sensuality
of erotic pas de deux.
Magnificent hologyny,
woman becomes by thy behest,
sacred vessel of posterity,
with honor ever blessed.
flowers are women
in my family’s garden -
Mom and her daughters
rhythm surrounds me
as I sway in contentment -
September’s Aster
Geranium Jen
bends graciously in the breeze -
our southern comfort
charming Melanie
with her sunflower brightness
warms us with her smiles
Our sister Doris
the stalwart Gladiolus
will never fail us
With perseverance
Thea boldly holds her own -
sweet Delphinium
Mom at our center
a spiritual iris
simply inspires us
A forget-me-not
for my sisters and mother -
and roses of love
WRitten May 3, 2016 for the Haiku on "My Family"Poetry Contest of marvin celestial
(I used flowers that symbolized the traits of my sisters and my mother)
Taking the risk,
Baring the soul,
Seeking the wisdom
That shall make us whole.
Raising the arms,
Spreading the wings,
Hearing the music
That deep in us sings.
Stepping the dance,
Chanting the song,
Feeling the sisterhood
Tender and strong.
Sharing the love,
Speaking the name,
Calling the blessing
And lighting the flame.
Written 7/28/2016
Take the Dagger from my Heart, Please- Poetry Contest
sponsored by Broken Wing
N/A in Premiere Contest Number 5, Judged 8/27/2016
My sister says
my father was a good man --
but, how should I,
who never "knew" him
(except as a far-from-good man)
buy her stories?
Am I, the last child
of that union,
too, too judgmental?
Too far removed in time from
what she knew
and now recalls?
My memory is of a different man,
who died when I was twenty-two:
one rarely present, never talking,
often jailed,
unsupportive --
someone I really never knew.
He was no bearer of familial tales,
no imparter of the history
now I only wish I'd heard...
Obviously, I differ from my sister
about what constitutes a good man.
He never seemed to feel that he
needed to provide basics --
food, shelter, clothing, health care --
to his offspring -- and he almost never did......
I do remember how he staggered
on the street,
fell off of curbs,
sought shelter
and often could be found
asleep -- or at least
stretched out unconscious --
in some vacant lot;
how he foraged
frenziedly
about for beer,
or only Gallo muscatel
(thirty-five cents for the flask).
Should I not ask
what makes my sister think
I could remember him as does she?
In such a different light?
As victim,
and maligned
by inlaws or by circumstance?
All I know is what I do remember,
what I survived
when she and others,
grown, were gone.
I do not think
that I can accept
or change
(nor in absentia, forgive) --
and, no, I do not yet
believe
what my sister says.
Little
is left
little breath
sagging stem
begging eyes
trains come, then depart
rancid smoke over grey fields
I am little
I saw it all
The difference in saying you,
a great big unseen pointed finger, or we.
I didn’t know. Some figurines
wave while others scrutinize with wizened eyes.
The analytic panics, hairs raised by static.
The simple leans in to catch butterflies. One is cynical.
The other sensuous. One slaps your hand away.
One squeezes it. Personality
like the word itself broken in pieces, a flotilla.
In the storm the words like jigsaw waves.
In placidity, the sun’s too hot or doldrum’s ebb and flow.
We will make it!
Still, even in this exchange, coarse sand,
a castle with a moat. Your motives sought - there I go again
“Y O U R…”
Sisterly size-up. Am I trying to win? I didn’t know
we were preparing to arm wrestle. I’m unshaped,
neither the flat piece of a puzzle or linked.
The dreamy sky from the beach. Salt in the air,
eyes on the horizon, lap of the waves —
the same lift I feel when swinging high and higher.
The excitement of adventure, no one’s judging
my every word. I’m breathless…it’s breathtaking
when my feet float above the ground.
There I’m in the arms of love. There I point
and God answers with his digit reaching out, touching mine.
I am reborn by the finger of God.
We will make it!
12/19/2020
Anyday and Sundays,
breathless with the word,
anticipation - he will show up.
It is the shout of Jericho,
as we walk out seven days…
the trumpet plays.
Good news for the narrow way!
The broad way is struck as if with lightning.
God is fearsome and frightening
when you push him away, reject him, and
press the ejection button.
But O, how elated to be in his presence
when he knows your name.
O my…he knows my name!
My knees weak as if in the presence of a lover,
easily bent…arms can’t be subdued.
When you know him intimately can’t help but smile.
His fiery passion, planted and groomed,
from heart to heart.
It’s the talk show where the host
surely will not make you weep,
but unexpectedly the Holy Spirit
snatches that emotion right out of you.
Suddenly your bonded to a sister
you never knew
shared your heartache.
You cling, with tears and tissues,
the issue dangling in front of everybody’s business.
No judgment here, just adulation at the brink
of healing — a rake, a plow, seeds planted now.
Raindrops falling, soul boiling - ready to reap
a whole lot of reckless love -
the kind that will change the world.
When he knows your name,
O my…he knows my name!
11/18/2021
A is for Annie Apple Blossom she buds in the Spring.
B is Betty Baby Breath she's such a dainty thing.
C is for Miss Candy Tuft pink-cheeked with hair of gold.
D is Debbie Dandelion who never does what she's told!
E is for Easter Lily she's as white as snow.
F is Francie Fairy Bells who ring-a-lings where she goes.
G is for Ginny Gardenia perfumed oh so sweet.
H is Holly Hocks a Tomboy, she has two left feet!
I is for Inca Lily dressed in colors light.
J is Joanie Jump-Ups, Johnny's little sister bright.
K is for Katie Kangaroo Paw her nails are painted red.
L is Lila Lady Slipper who stays too long a bed.
M is for Merry Morning Glory dressed in pale blue.
N is Nancy Narcissus who trumpets ""toodeloo!"
O is for Olivia the Ox-Eyed Daisy dolly.
P is Patty Petunia, her pancakes are a folly.
Q is for Queenie Anns Lace her dresses all have ruffles.
R is Ruby Rose-a-lee who almost always shuffles.
S is for Sandy Snap Dragon tall and thin. petite.
T is Tallulah Tulip her clothes are so off beat!
U is for Uma Umbrella Flower, sweet and sunny.
V is Vicky Violet she plays with Easter bunnies.
W is for Wendy Water Lily she'd rather swim than dance.
X is Xana Xmas Tree in Winter she's entrancing.
Y is for Yani Yarrow, a girl so bonny fair
Z is Zelda Zinnia, she pinning Yani's hair.
All our girls are fine and strong, so beautiful and brave
Not a single one of them would think to misbehave!
Bio: Wise woman.
A message from Emilly
By Angelo Casiano
A message from above to those of you I love.
I love you more than you’ll ever know,
Even more now that I’m gone.
And my love for you will grow and grow,
Like the chorus to a song.
I had to leave much sooner than
I thought, I must admit.
But you know mom, until I’m done,
I’m never gonna quit.
I left behind some parts of me,
I have so much to give.
Because of you I’m strong enough,
to help some others live.
So Daddy when you think of me,
While you watch the Phillies play.
I’ll be sitting next to you. I’ll be with you every day.
You’ve given me the best of you.
And now I’m giving back.
I will love you for eternity. No matter were I’m at.
~My Tricycle~
Christmas eve,
I could not help but peek.
There it was, a blue and pinkish bike.
With streamers all for me...
A ride, I wanted to feel inside.
A surprise, I ruined for my eyes.
The joy I felt, a naughty kid like me could not hide.
Running back into my room, jumping with glee.
Waiting and waiting...............................................
Christmas day, comes to life.
I'm all excited.. With the biggest grin...
Mommy walks me to my bike.
My grin slowly fades away.
A red tricycle, I start to cry.
I did not understand, why my older sister got the pretty bike.
My Christmas, ruined by a ruby red tricycle.
Mommies, hug did not comfort me.
I cried all night, and asked my daddy'
"How can this be?"
"It's not fair!"
"it's not fair!"
Daddy, had only one response..
"Sweetie, soon you will see."
New Years Eve**
I sit near the windowpane.
Staring at my sister ride her blue pinkish bike.
Even the streamers were laughing at me.
Night fall comes around..
It's cold and everyone is asleep.
I sneak my way into the barn.
I stare at it~
My sisters bike!
The smile on my face, I still can't erase.
"This bike will be mine tonight."
I grab the bike by the handles bars.
I walk the bike under the stars.
Two hours pass, and still I can't operate the pedals.
Finally I remove my shoes, and reach the pedals with my toes.
I'm off into the night, than suddenly I fell upon them rocks.
If only I waited for that push from daddy's hands.
:To Be Continued:
Lesson not learned,
My scars all accounted for.