PS it’s Poetry
“There’s praise in words, and words in praise
“Write ON, Write ON”
• Abraham G. Suah 200
• Adams King Oyarese 427
• Aditi Mishra 24
• Agona Apell 229, 403
• Alan Ireland 371
• Alcibiades Castelo Branco 180
• Alethea Coulston 109
• Alexander Adams Blackie 220, 335, 47
• Alexander Corns 348
• Alison Hodges 343
• Amanullah Khan 290, 436
• Amar Agarwala 380
• Amitabh Divakar 378
• Amy Catherine Sullivan 276
• Amya Richelle Ranck 235
• Ana Espinola Collins 110
• Anais Vionet 395
• Andrea Dietrich 210, 277, 4
• Andrew Crisci 308, 402, 406
Yes its PS it’s Poetry
“There’s praise in words, and words in praise
“Write ON, Write ON”
Passed by every sunrise
Flowers, when in bloom
All the autumn colours
For living in the gloom
All memories now lost
Nothing to retain
Gone with the past
While standing in the rain
©Ana Espinola Collins
A women's heart
awaits dormant,
as a red glow
of passion
emits softly
through the ice crystals
of her tears;
secretly dreaming
that someday,
the gentle touch
of a tender soul
will warm
her frozen heart.
©Ana Espinola Collins
The rapids
of emotions
have flooded
a heart,
drowning her love
into an abyss
of darkness;
all that is left
are the gentle
drifting ripples
of a once,
passionate soul.
©Ana Espinola Collins
The fallen leaves
of yesterday;
scattered and gone
but not forgotten,
as their colourful brilliance
forever paint
our memories,
lighting the way
for the new blossoms
of tomorrow.
©Ana Espinola Collins
Suffocating,
In the depths of sorrow,
Beneath a flood of doubts.
Gasping,
Unable to surface,
I frantically search
For what weighs me down;
I feel nothing,
But the burden of guilt
That fills my soul,
And then I realize
The anchor is me.
©Ana Espinola Collins
Agility flows
through the fingers;
gently dancing upon
those black and whites,
like graceful ballerinas
performing the music
of her soul.
©Ana Espinola Collins
Goliath the frog was gigantic in size,
often ridiculed out of despise.
He measured as high as six feet tall
and labeled the number one oddball.
But one day, at Frogville's annual event,
intruders stormed in with malicious intent.
"Yummy! Delicious frog legs," they said.
"Perfect for tonight's dinner spread!”
Goliath watched quietly from up on his log
as they began caging each and every frog.
Then suddenly he leaped with all his might,
straight into town to defend their rights.
"Set them free!" He croaked. "Or deal with me!"
"Our legs are for jumpin'; not for munchin'!"
Shocked at Goliath's enormous size,
the villains ran off with fear in their eyes.
All the Frogvillians cheered "HORRAY!
Thank you Goliath for saving the day."
Later, they gave him an award of distinction
for saving the frogs from extinction.
And although he is now dead and gone,
the legend of Goliath the frog still lives on!
by Ana Espinola Collins
Burrowed deep,
within a physical structure,
a soul exists,
obscure;
locked behind an emotional gate,
desperately seeking the key of fate
that will unlock, releasing this spirit
from the ruins
of despair
onto a journey elsewhere,
soaring free of mental bondage
to that extraordinary place
known
as her own.
©Ana Espinola Collins
The warmth
of a summer dream
shines tenderly,
as
red petals of love
blanket a soul;
thawing
the bitter chill
about
her heart
and
revives this spirit
with
passion and love
before
she awakens.
©Ana Espinola Collins
A heart is still;
no pulse,
just a glimmer
of passion
which quivers,
longing for a spark
to rekindle the heart
so it may beat
in rhythm
once again.
©Ana Espinola Collins
I am only what I know
from what I have heard,
what I have seen
and what I have yet to learn.
This insight,
with the lessons to come
makes me who I am;
who I will be.
©Ana Espinola Collins
The creature of beauty;
a curvature silhouette
with a sweet scent and tenderness
that can wittingly
or
unknowingly
lure and sedate the beast.
This Enchantress,
once sanctioned as weaker,
merely the bearer of offspring
has evolved
from a sex goddess
into a commander,
able to rule
an army of warriors
by way of power,
yet
remain true
to her instinctive nature
as sensual,
the nurturer
a creature of beauty;
the woman.
by Ana Espinola Collins
Down by the lake, planted magically nearby
Stands a sweet willow tree forty feet high.
The crystallized tree glitters so bright;
Bursting with colours of candy delights.
Children from all over visit each day
To gather and gaze the delicious array.
Circling the tree, they dance around;
Hand in hand, like a merry-go-round.
Their energy stirs such a powerful swirl,
Sending the branches into a twirl.
Dangling bonbons begin to fall;
Baskets are filled leaving nothing at all.
Twilight arrives with its colourful glow
And sugar filled blossoms begin to grow.
By morning the willow is flourished and sweet,
Ready for the day's visitors to greet!
by Ana Espinola Collins
Living,
yet not looking forward
just back and forth in thought;
should I or should I not
set myself free
or
live in complete dismay
stuck in this emotional sway.
by Ana Espinola Collins
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