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Carrie Richards Poem
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The sun-yellow house seems smaller somehow,
viewing it now, after all these years...
The street seems narrower, and the trees have grown tall..
And where once open fields spanned both sides of the road,
there are small tract houses, where fences have bloomed.
Neighboring orchards have all disappeared
But, somehow we knew the house would be there....
As if seen from a distance, edged by seasons, yet clear
There's the path that we laid one hot summer day,
in the yard of this house that sits at the bend
near the end of the road, where the sycamore grew....
Someone else left their footprints that lead to the door
There's a rusty-red bike, and a skate left behind
by the squeaky old gate, that tomorrow will find.
As suddenly as wind will spring from the dust
thirty years fell away, and flew into in the past
And quickly alive, all the memories rise,
like a whirlwind of leaves, in a springtime of lives.....
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...Our first Christmas trees, and our first holidays...
Anniversaries we spent with just pizza and wine
The place where I cried long into the night,
as the child in me grieved for a mother who died...
Long, starry nights, I was bathed by the moon
rocking my babes to a lullaby tune
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Yes....it is all captured there, in the small yellow house
Our very first house, with the snow-white trim
Strange, it may be, but I'm glad it's still yellow...
Still wearing the face of the warm summer sun
The sun- yellow house, with a flagstone path
Where old slate stones bring the sun to the door
It's a path we laid on a warm summer day
in a place that we knew as our very first home
Just a small yellow house, with its snow-white trim...
that sits 'round the bend, where the sycamore grew...
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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Carrie Richards Poem
Untroubled is the quiet night
How peaceful is a world that glimmers white
Frost and moonlight have whipped a silver glaze
And silhouettes of trees are black as ink
The only sign of life are whiffs of breath
I stand transfixed beneath the sky,
to rest my mind with reverent eyes
upon the silky wonderland of snow
Among these masqueraded hills,
the night's aurora soothes my soul
Winter has dressed our world in alabaster white
Familiar landmarks wear a new disguise
And yet, we'll see the sky remains the same
where a thousand thorny sparks have kept their flames
burning low to light the dark
They welcome us like longtime friends.
These polished stars against the sky,
are brilliant new, with points honed thistle sharp
How peaceful is a planet that shimmers bright,
that to stand in voiceless wonder and gaze,
If we were to speak, the crystal world could shatter,
too fragile to bear the weight of words
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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Carrie Richards Poem
The wind billows out from the seat of his britches
With determined blue eyes, skinned knuckles and knees
he climbs up the rails nailed from old cedar pieces
to the uppermost yoke of an old pecan tree
He is Captain on board, in pretend salty breezes
From his perch in the bird's nest, the world's in his view
A small town boy, who has never seen oceans
sails a fantasy vessel, where his wishes come true
The tall cornstalks stand duty, in the weedy-field waters
He breaks off a branch and a sword fight ensues..
He says "Tally Ho...Land Ahoy!!" to his crew
Dogs are barking below. He must shout out a warning
"There are sharks all around, so his shipmates must heed!"
He is Master Commander, the ruler of nations
He dreams of adventure from his loft in the tree
As he watches the clouds sail across a blue sea
Till his mother calls him in, for his suppertime leave
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Well, little boys grow, and a childhood will fade
The leaf of the pecan, no longer holds shade
Now a stump of the tree, is all that is left
Yet the memory still thrives, so deep in his breast
When the weight of the world comes tumbling down
He visits this place with the stump in the ground
The rings wrap around him, to take him aboard
To a ship from his childhood, a place he adored
Tonight he will sleep in a bed of contentment
From his bunk he will dream he is sailing the seas
Tomorrow he'll climb up the steps to his vessel
Tomorrow he'll be where the eagles fly free....
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Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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Carrie Richards Poem
I remember you, from when there was a spring
When the seasons were ripe, with verdant green
Our nimble feet danced in the wind
and on the brink of everything
Not a furrow in the brow of youth
We borrowed life for just awhile
and tapped our shoes on childhood's stage
where carefree laughter was the rage
that filled each age with promised smiles
We danced and twirled a twin ballet
just you and me on summer's waves
Two pirouettes, in mode of curls
of blossoms, frilled, and tender leaves
unfurled in winds, we found a way
to soar our wings, above the world
We knew not yet
of death or dying
or of regret, or cause for crying
But, something frowned upon the season
You caught the wind, and without reason
A colder wind
that kept you flying
far beyond my eyes could see
And to the other side
you disappeared
beyond my words
beyond my tears
Now here alone
I touch the day
and taste the night
remembering
I will walk alone, in autumn sun
And lay myself on dying leaves
I think of you and think of then
I feel the wind against my face
that sweeps me to a distant place
where I recall what time erased
I'm closer now... to hear the sound
The whisper of the seasons calling
Above the trees, the sky is blue
I think of you, and feel the breeze
And all the while, the leaves must fall
9/2013
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Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
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Carrie Richards Poem
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So young, I was, and so naive
There was no doubt, I did believe
this babe who's latched inside my womb
with ties we had,... would always be
Latched on was he, as he was fed
then later days, our hands instead
Not tall enough to open gates
I would reach the latch for his escape
In time he grew to need more space
The cord we had, still had it's place
The loving ties from birth, so long
were gently stretching.., moving on,
yet still remaining full and strong
In time he grew, to be a man
Our bond had changed, but still lives on
He fell in love, as it should be
His bond with her, I'm glad to see
doesn't mean our own is gone
Songs are sung when lovers part
but no song for a mother's heart
When new adventures come one day
and new roads take him far away
The man he is, has been set free
to be the man he wants to be
The child he was is never gone
She's letting go, yet holding on
If once, one wish, were mine to choose
so many would my thoughts pursue
But one within my heart still yearns
for just one day, the clocks would turn
Together you and I would be
sitting there among the trees
I would lift you up upon my knee
just as we did when you were three…
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For Francine's Contest: Children In Rhyme
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011
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Carrie Richards Poem
Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on a chair, reach up to shelves so high
to mother's boxes neatly stacked, and dust gets in my eyes
I take one down, to look inside and sit upon a chair
I find some musty linens, laces needing some repair
Discovering old photographs, the year was '42
Her face was smooth as porcelain, unblemished, young and new
Old documents and letters, a history unveiled
Her letters, torn and yellowed, such stories they would tell
The next box held small china cups, so lovingly embellished
And then I found a book of verse, inscribed with poems she relished
Some dresses stained and wrinkled, their fabric thin and tattered
Were once a thing of beauty, as if they really mattered
Her jewelry, gold and silver, some lovely rings and brooches
A warm sensation circles me, her presence now approaches
I sense a change come over me, and fleeting leave of gloom
The darkness of the evening lifts, as sunlight fills the room
She wraps her warmth around me, her fragrance in the air
My loneliness is free to go, I know that she is there
Among these things, I find the last, the smallest box of all
Inside it are the baby clothes, I wore when I was small
A letter there to tell me that she knows the tears I've cried
Her words of love that never died, they fill me up inside
These treasures speak her words to me, and now that I am grown
She wants to tell her story, those parts I've never known
I've heard her voice, while sitting here, among her china flowers
I"ve found such peace, she's next to me, to spend these quiet hours
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Written 6/8/2008
Submitted to Contest: "Old Jewelry or Just Old Things or Old,
Old Poems/Poetry Contest "
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2008
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Carrie Richards Poem
Somewhere in a dream,
Serene and blissful from the start
It comes to me again
The two of us in love, and eagerly alone
Breathlessly naive', and blissfully assured
that we would be as one
...that nothing in the world outside, could ever be compared
Two bikes took rest against a tree
We climbed the nearest hill,
Through foxtails, deep and thickets, high
Along a creek bed, far and wide,
wading through warm granite stones
Slick and wet, with velvet moss
littered deep with autumn leaves, and the urgent tender years
My darling...do you remember...?
We were like children, we marveled and swooned
at the shapes of the clouds in the lavender sky
changing their forms in a wink of the eye
We were wild with love, that stirred the stones
Discovering firsts, and thirsts unknown
Layers of years, now whisper here,
Imprisoned in this hidden place, with every breath of air
Not a fluent time that bends or moves
...but time fully reasoned, with ancient eyes
Unwound of it's youthful eyes and loves
Where dulcet words plucked out of space
Have not been tinged by autumn's breath
And innocence is scattered like leaves upon the breeze
And lingers, ...with a sweet wistful sigh
We who once made love, ...a thousand skies ago
Have slept with tossing shadows and lilting cries
Still tremble with the memory
Oh, ...I know the subtle ways of empty dreams
And I shall go by silent lanes and leave this day....and you....
....timeless here
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Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2010
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Carrie Richards Poem
If you could paint a picture of silence
What color would it be?
Would you use a brush to paint the fog
in shades of gray, a touch of brown
to hush the season from all sound?
Would eaves be dripping to the ground
while windows weep with quiet tears
Where solitude has blurred the view
in states of lonely winter-lude?
Would silence be a shade of green
A forest deep, a muted scene
No sound to scatter birds from trees
No broken branch, or swaying grass
Missteps that crackle the fallen leaves
Untouched by clatter, harsh and rude?
Would silence be as black as night
A cave too deep for shards of light
A void within a famished core
A well of dark and empty shores?
Or would silence be of many hues?
A rainbow shade of morning dew
A soft pastel of sun declining?
No bedlam, blast or blare of noise
Could break the spell, a silent voice
As if the soul could slip away....
A hush, immense.....so sweet and keen,
Like ghosts unseen, or angels soft as air...
A silent sea, ....where mountains lend an ear
As clouds pile high, ....and wait to hear...
Only for this: such peace....such bliss
A sound so small, ... as welcome as a sigh
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2010
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Carrie Richards Poem
Each element of who she is, is scattered on the grass,
with the scent of earth, the drop of rain,
where dew reflects a sky of blue.
Her senses are illuminated to harmonize within,
with a howling wolf, a roaring bear, the song of evening wind
She walks within a dreamlike world, which cannot be defined.
This puzzle we have come to know has no border, nor an end.
When life begins, a tiny seed, is strewn, tossed from the vine,
and picks up speed on feathered wing and touches the divine.
She is daughter of the autumn, and mother of the spring.
Her euphonious legend, an extraordinary thing.
It passes through the blossomed branch of all the sprouted trees.
She is young at heart, and old with drought,
she is strong, and bold, without a doubt, is stalwart through the night.
Standing proud against the darkness, and the sins of those who mar,
her spirit is unbroken, by the scars of bitter blight.
She honors creatures with respect, where unison is found,
with all things wild, whether large or small, ...for every life is gold.
Her songs are as a journey, and frolic in the breeze.
There is prowess and a valor in her lavished synchronies.
Her flute will share her story, in the sound of lonely larks,
of loss, rebirth, of drifting sands, and sweet hours after dark
For yesterday creates today, with a promise for tomorrow.
When songs are played, it can bring us hope, in the laughter of the birds.
Each whisper of a clearer sky, will gently cleanse the smoke,
and buffalo will graze again, the tall green grass will wave again.
The golden sun will rise again, to warm her every word
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10/22/14 Inspired by Contest sponsored By Debbie Guzzi
Resubmitted for Skat's Contest "Premiere Number 7"
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014
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Carrie Richards Poem
Exquisitely frail, a lone flute exhales, leaving this heart in a flutter
Cascading aloft, soft violins rise, from the flow of smooth silver rivers
Swelling the throat, sending spirits afloat on a sailboat of pure ecstasy
Transforming me now, through the mist all alone, where the music can take me away
A symphony of poems, transcends from above, where folklore and hope never ends
Soaring along, and honed from the heart, from the one who knew the divine
Yesterday's score, sublime as it is, takes me beyond today's shore
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Inspired by the music of Smetana
youtube link to music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3G4NKzmfC-Q
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016
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