Best Sits Poems
She sits on the outer looking in
As the party is in full swing
Another family gathering
With all the happiness and laughter it brings
Her family….children and grandchildren
Her reason since their birth
Nurturing, worrying and loving them
Her purpose on this earth
She reflects back on their younger years
The days of prams, parks and play
Of afternoon naps and cuddles
Forever sharing their days
Always being needed
The apple of their eyes
Knowing their lives entirely
There to comfort their cries
Adults and teenagers now
The years have brought changes
No longer knowing them as she did
Absent are the daily exchanges
Without question their love for her has not altered
Yet the circle of life forever turns
She sits on the outer looking in
A stifled tear falls as her heart yearns
The visitors arrive and I must bear
Their comments are not that I really care.
I stare at them as they would stare at me;
Until they break the ice, act so beastly.
Listen to their litany of abuse,
"Look well, her eyes are closed, having a snooze?"
"Isn't this an invert of a known painting?"
"Nice auburn hair though she looks like fainting."
"Not as good as Mona, now that's a dear."
I cannot understand why they come here.
They dare compare me to that wanton lass
How many men know she was sick, alas?
Finally, they leave except for one man.
I know that I can return his love for me.
If it were in my power down I'd come
Leave this mural, on his lips and kiss him some.
The painter draws our love and endeavour,
Happy; we'll be each other forever.
His interest awakens,
as he laid eyes on a young maiden
sitting there alone.
How lovely she is, graceful
and beautiful.
Her auburn hair done up in a thick braid,
crowning her head with small stray
tendrils, curling about her fair heart shape ethereal face,
above a long neck, and delicate shoulders it graced.
For a brief moment, his gaze
locked with her hazel gold eyes, amazed
and in thoughts of sweet illusion of having her near.
Wanting to kiss her long and sweetly, whisper
you are mine forever in her ear.
8/3/2017
In innocent lie
Amidst the lightening dew
Poppies in mourning
She unknown, taken at will
Where now a butterfly sits
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss-6.php
My dog, she sits on the lawn chair like a human, on the porch
She listens to the wind chimes like me, enjoys the moment and the breeze
She watches over everything, no-one can get anywhere near here
Without her saying something to let me know all about it
She has a strong nose too, so even if she doesn’t see something,
--- She will always detect it ---
My sweet dog, enjoying her life on the porch, brings to me
--- Love and joy every day ---
--- Yes, she sits for a treat too--- :)
Heidi Sands
8/3/17
Bogdan Chmielnicki sits astride a horse
A magnificent statue in Central Kiev
To a monumental Ukrainian figure
A George Washtington-style liberator
He took it to the Poles in the 1600's
A lone Jew glances at Bogdan on his horse
Forgive him his disgust, of course, for
That Cossack and his army murdered
Nearly every Jew in Kiev -- on their way
To killing 600,000 Jews, one-third
Of the Jews then in Europe, during an
Unprecedented Reign of Terror...*
Leave Chmielnicki astride his horse
Let Ukraine celebrate Bogdan
~ without one ounce of remorse
_________________________________
*Chmielnicki's Reign of Terror is known
by the abbreviation 'Tach v'Tat,' which is
short form for the Hebrew calendar year
corresponding to 1648-49. The Cossacks'
genocidal campaign lasted through 1660.
Love Sits and Waits
Inside the empty void of the heart
Waiting for that special moment
That will light the spark
That one special person
That will take the place
Of the hurt in a heart
That will put a glow on a face
The one special touch
That will make you want to cry
That the one special kiss
That won't let you say goodbye
I'm sitting here, waiting
For that one moment in time
When I will find my true love
Who will say to me "You are mine"
For that touch and that kiss
That will never,ever end
For that one day I'm waiting for
When I say "I do" to my life-long bestfriend
So, I sit here waiting
If my dream will come true
For, in every dream I dream
My "one special person" is you
Sad she sits,
herself a chain,
that's locked and without key.
Not a tumble left undone,
and combination free.
Shaking has shackled shoe,
noisey within steps.
Ringing deeply tuned to tears,
soaked and deeply wet.
Screams they are her thunder,
lightning in her gaze.
The eye within the storm that brews,
want wash her pain away.
Sad she sits herself a chain.
.
Red Cardinal Sits
Frozen water in birdbath....
Peck, peck, head back drink
It was first all, beautiful
And the plain blue sky spanned on either sides
With snow-white flakes drifting religiously
Over light-green steeples into a land
Beyond what my bulgy brown eyes can see
And God sat; watching
It soon turned pitiful
And beholding as in a trance a swam of famished
locust
As they swopped upon all that was green
And the orphaned cub watched it's mother's skin
sold for a farthing
While the hunters bragged, brawled and laid upon
empty bottles
And God still sat; watching
Then it became sorrowful
With the tsunami as its hits the glass towers of
China, and the famine in the dark soils of Somalia
The nuclear arsenals in the far east
Which could annihilate all that creeps
And the blood of the sackless on the tub of the elite
Apocalyptic sermons on all corners;
Yet evil, even on holy ground nests gallantly.
And God still sits .........
I try to count my blessings
And compare my life to hers
I try to see that I have so many
reasons
to maintain my nerves
But, she is the one that never cries
But, she is the one that never cries
She has been through a war
And yet she prays
She has been without food
And yet she hopes for a better day
Yes, she is the one that never cries
Yes, she is the one that never cries
She looks at me and all my glory.
We both wonder
what I complain about
what’s my story.
Why I don’t have her strength
to survive.
Why with every waking moment
All I think about is how to die.
Maybe I should fly to Iraq,
Or Africa
Become and untouchable
In India
Sell myself and meet this slave
So we can sit and talk
For a moment
And she can teach me how to be brave
And why she is the one that never cries
And why she is the one that never cries
It Sits There
It sits there,
like the old Chevy in the driveway,
empty, but for memories
of better days.
Days of running hot
on roads of steaming passion,
squealing tires speeding
the road to fulfillment,
time’s road markers
flashing past
in the dancing headlights
fading into lover’s dust.
It sits there,
just as big, as heavy,
as empty as the Chevy,
this worn out heart
seized by the decrepitude of age
drained of joy’s presence
mired in the melancholy
of the mind’s meanderings.
It sits there
blocking the driveway
of his life.
11/22/2015
submitted to Romantic Poem – poetry contest
sponsor SKAT A
Mary sits alone and cries
At a table, empty and wide.
Remembers a time, laughter and talk.
Were the things to make her spirit sing.
Remembers those things we will never know,
The first smile, the first kiss
The word of love, so long ago
The precious son she held so close.
Now she sits and cries,
And often asks the reason why,
Why did you give, him then take him away
For a world full of sin and woe.
But as she walks to a sad dark tomb
She meets an angel who said “do not fear”,
He’s no longer there. He is alive
Now there’s rejoicing in her heart,
Now she knows the reason why,
Jesus died to set them free,
And gave his spirit eternally.
Red Cardinal sits
'pon willow feathers puffed out ..
sunlight filters through fog
He sits
Head in hands
His body weak and exhausted
He wants to know why
Answers never given
His soul has gone to seek
Left alone within the gloom
Vulnerable
Exposed to predators
Waiting patiently in line to pounce
Shadows lurking
He sees but is blind
To the truth he contains
In the darkness
Silently weeping
His tears fall inside
He cannot be seen to be weak
No time to heal
The pain inside a continual reminder
Memories everywhere
A fresh start needed
But no means of escape
He is trapped
Entombed by guilt
He feels he deserves
Ensnared by his own doing
He is incomplete
A complex mind ruminating
He sits
Head in hands
Will he find peace?
Maybe
Just maybe
One day