Sits Poems

Time Never Sits For No One

Time stops for no one Poetry Contest
Sara Jama



From the first heartbeat to the very last
From the first cry to the last gasp
Life and time rise and then fall
The hands on the external clock never pausing
As the legs of the day keep moving
From dashing sunrises to dashing sunsets
To the everlasting stars and moons in the sky
To

She Sits In Her Little Room

She Sits In Her Little Room
-

She sits in her little room
Dried flowers and jasmine scent
And writes the words of promise
Hoping to transcend
She often paints in memory
Upon the walls of dream
Where specs of stardust glisten
Upon a sea of love 

She roams the woods of fairytale
On twilight's misty eve
And tumbles with the Autumn leaves
To plant a sacred

She Sits Alone - POTD

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

the new gardener sits on her pet lion

I had heard about the new gardener down the road for years.
She had been unwelcomed by neighbors because of their fears.
Has a lion for a pet, and sits on him too, one of them told me.
I brought over a welcome basket of fruit and some peach tea.

I would have been here sooner, but I used

WOMAN IN THE GOLDEN CHAIR -She Who Sits Before Me Beloved Beautiful

 Ever so Royal She sits Before me 
Answer a face luminates
 Her nose Embraces my aroma
 my sense blessedness
 connect holds her intelligent 
WOMAN IN THE GOLDEN CHAIR
such a beautiful mind articulating
 her shoulder her shoulder blades 
that's you heavenly
 her breast nervous the infant children babes
 her stomach belly feels filled with

There Is An Angel Who Sits Upon My Shoulder Who Goes By The Name Of Death

There is an angel who sits upon my shoulder who goes by the name of Death,
And though I cannot always see him, upon my neck I can always feel his breath
As he whispers to me relentlessly, deftly using my soul’s own Shibboleth.


He is my phantasmagorical companion from which there has thus far been no escape,
One

scottish dog sits on Celtic mamas lap

Scottish dog sits on his Celtic mama’s lap
Barking, growling, and lunging at every sap
Who dares to try to court his mama, Miss LaBlap.
You’ll never get married, says her Grandpa Rap.

That may be says his granddaughter, who likes to clap.
But I need my doggie, he keeps suiters from annoying me during my nap.
You are the only

There Sits the City Gold

There sits the City Gold
Where robbers ne'er grab hold,
Nor rot, nor moth, nor mold.

There sits a lava moat
Not passable by boat
Nor rope, nor writ, nor hope.

Outside the people scheme
As wise as any seem,
To enter, distant dream.

And there the doctors sly,
Sell passage to passers by.
Yet all who purchase, die.

This city, see, is truth.
Those lofty minds in

She Sits On The Outer Looking In

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

Beside You He Sits

Sitting by your side he sits

“His arm around you and says,

It's okay to let go,

I'll always walk beside you

And lay my head by yours.

Never worry, for I'll always be with you. “

1/28/2023

Whilst the Muse Sits Idle

Haven’t sorted this years poems
And another year is looming
Yet my fingers dance and play
Upon the keyboard every day
Some say the poems that I write
Are seamless, flowing, very tight
Others pass them, look away
Refer to them as cliched, trite
Yet being “kind” I don’t reply
Just shake my head and sadly sigh
For they have missed the subtle twists
Of metaphoric

Across the Living Room Still Sits His Legacy Chair

Across the living room

Quietly sits a chair

In glum despair 

With no one sitting in it anymore 

It's cushion barely bruised nor used

Since it once patron has past on

And one can only hope he is as
comfortable now

As he was whence here sat upon 
his favorite chair 

Because that chair was in effect his
throne and so made

She Sits Alone

The fire within her burning bright,
her eyes, now dry, once overflowed.
She sits alone and waits to write.

It nearly snuffed her inner light;
his passing seems so long ago,
the fire within her burning bright.

They don’t know grief, but that’s alright.
She braves a smile, puts on a show.
She sits alone and waits to write.

She feels his presence every

It Sits In Judgment

There’s a voice that hides
with message plain
“IT STILL IS NOT ENOUGH”

No matter how the 
phrases turn
“THEY LACK THE FINER STUFF”

It sits in judgment
undeterred
to flame and scold unbound

To speak when I’m 
inopportune
—and turn me inside out

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)

In Darkness She Sits

In darkness she sits
Her existence now revolving around mind created horrors.
Her child, not at home.
Has been away for weeks, perhaps months, for she has lost sense of time.
She feels the anger, the rage.
She does however understand the purpose, the cause, the reason
But her mind is overwhelmed by the feelings of the heart.
Confused and disheartened, she

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