Short Patching Poems

Dappling sunlight
wandering
patching
Blessed earth
courting
dancing
Summer leaf
capturing
mesmerising

Summer airs...

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Is it not loved shared
Where the true quest of
Humanity is shown
Stitching each wound
Patching a torn yesterday
A quilt of warmth
Healed of all the doom
Together resolution
Apart we wander
Consumed
...

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Ana

she steals bits of lives
to mend 
the holes in dreams.
weaves a cocoon 
of unreality patching leaks.
her logos 
strained with eternal doubt,
mortal sin upon sin, 
cast like dark blossoms.
god laughing at his trick
creation, a double indamnity
of need and confusion....

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Relationships 
Of True Friends

Time to care
Share
Shop for 
Things to wear

Patching things up 
When they tear

Swearing at one 
Another without a care

Driving down the 
Road with music blared

Unmasking yourself 
Without being scared

Only true friends 
Have dared....

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It was the work of her hands
that gave flesh to her speech;
her soul made vocal.
Gestures mended words
with a patching thread, a needle-point
she sewed with eloquent fingers.
Often as she dreamed,
those hands still emphasized
her silent words
as they stitched together
articulations
for the mute night....

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No words to capture
elusive love.

Chased,
with boxing glove 
laced to hand.

Attempt to catch 
a feathered dove;

make a lasting stand.

Stalk 
whispered wind

in noon-day traffic.

Place a collar on a flea.

This vessel spent, so suddenly
does seek repose.

Lord knows,
we do our part.

Patching daily hatred 

with a beaten heart....

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Many miles traveled
Many lessons learned
Many thing unraveled
Many times, burned

Patching up pain
Healing day by day
Lies leave a stain
I go on my way

Through troughs so narrow
I can barely fit
So, I listen to the sparrow
As I watch it flit 

Lack of reason
Swirls with a cyclone
In winds of the season
I stand alone

Heidi Sands

11/5/17...

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Ducks are flying,
mild weather in February
has lured them,
to find and build nests.

The hunters are all taken by surprise,
The beavers are hard at work,
patching and mending rickety dams,
loggers are leaning on their buzz saws.

People are storing bobble hats,
and puffer jackets.

Today it is snowing heavy,
the ducks are heading to Florida.
Bird romance
indefinitely delayed....

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For all of you 
Unattached
Aging, older men,
Incomplete and 
Anxiously
Patching up,
The damage done,
Mind the gap.

There are rules
Of thumb, such
As half and seven,
And fairy tales like 
Love is heaven,
And hearts can float
Above  the traps,
Mind the gap.

Sixty two less
Thirty six gives
Twenty six valid
Reasons, not
Expressed at first
But nonetheless
The math is real,
Mind the gap....

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After the storm

The havoc is over and the sun is back
Patching up with light the heart's crack

Devastating is the scene of the aftermath
But there is a flower in the cluttering path

Though the storm was fierce and utterly cruel
The vanishing Hope got up to refuel

Deafening silence is ruling the place
But rhythm is gaining its normal pace

After every storm you are given a choice
Whether to quit or start to rejoice...

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Stomping on the medals of the race before we win
and the most we ask each other is to rattle off, begin
Begin to conquer freedom with the hollows of our past
as we cut a slice off life's big pie just hoping it will last
Shooting at each other with our words cut silver sharp
and patching wounds deep, self inflicted, carried on as scars
Lift the eyes tomorrow while we go our separate ways
as we blow a kiss into the air ~ goodbye to yesterdays......

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It was the work of her hands
that gave flesh to her speech;
her persona made vocal.
Gestures were needle-point,
stitching words into sound.
She talked with the eloquence
of quick speaking fingers,
with hands that emphasized,
underlined, swept away, challenged,
motioned, mentioned,
mollified, mimed, beckoned,
warned and added warmth to her words.
Her hands sewing and patching together
articulations for
the far-sighted and for muted ears....

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It was the work of her hands
that gave flesh to her speech;
her persona made vocal.
Gestures were needle-point,
stitching words into sound.
She talked with the eloquence
of quick speaking fingers,
with hands that emphasized,
underlined, swept away, challenged,
motioned, mentioned,
mollified, mimed, beckoned,
warned and added warmth to her words.
Her hands sewing and patching together
articulations for
the far-sighted and for muted ears....

Read More

It was the work of her hands
that gave flesh to her speech;
her persona made vocal.
Gestures were needle-point,
stitching words into sound.
She talked with the eloquence
of quick speaking fingers,
with hands that emphasized,
underlined, swept away, challenged,
motioned, mentioned,
mollified, mimed, beckoned,
warned and added warmth to her words.
Her hands sewing and patching together
articulations for
the far-sighted and for muted ears....

Read More

It was the work of her hands
that gave flesh to her speech;
her persona made vocal.
Gestures were needle-point,
stitching words into sound.
She talked with the eloquence
of quick speaking fingers,
with hands that emphasized,
underlined, swept away, challenged,
motioned, mentioned,
mollified, mimed, beckoned,
warned and added warmth to her words.
Her hands sewing and patching together
articulations for
the far-sighted and for muted ears....

Read More

It was the work of her hands
that gave flesh to her speech;
her persona made vocal.
Gestures were needle-point,
stitching words into sound.
She talked with the eloquence
of quick speaking fingers,
with hands that emphasized,
underlined, swept away, challenged,
motioned, mentioned,
mollified, mimed, beckoned,
warned and added warmth to her words.
Her hands sewing and patching together
articulations for
the far-sighted and for muted ears....

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As I look into his eyes
and he into mine, I begin to ask myself “why”
Why do we take so long to find love
Could it be that our eyes are too blind to see the true beauty of a being
Or are our hearts too weak to acknowledge what our eyes are blinded into seeing
Cowardly you
wreak havoc on unforeseen hearts
trying to tear true love apart
because you left love in the dark
Fragile hearts try desperately to mold themselves back into true form
by patching damaged veins once scorned...

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With rhymes and verses
I'm patching my way
With words and cadences
I'm filling my days

What I used to keep locked
Found it's way to the paper
Feelings kept hidden
Suddenly are pouring thru me

In a world of violence and hate
I find in poetry a balm
Words that were used to hurt
Are now used to heal and restart

To bring hope and show care
To uplift souls and bring forth smiles
Something so simple but with such force
Must always be used to inspire. 

***
December 01, 2016...

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