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Best Poems Written by Sherry Asbury

Below are the all-time best Sherry Asbury poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Warrior

Duty sits on her right shoulder
Honor sits proudly on her left
She has honed herself a warrior
to never cry or become bereft

Her mighty sword fells the enemy,
one after one till they are done
Her inner self is honed in the fire
of every day's brilliant, risen sun

Her empire is more than soldiers,
it is a lesson in listening to the heart's beat,
driving them ever forward with bravery...
never accepting that thing called defeat
79 words © 8 hours ago, Sherry Asbury

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Alone

There will never be someone for me
No strong arms to hold me close
No shoulder to ease my misery
No eyes that see into my soul

At night I shall always lie alone
my pillow nothing but a soft lie
as my lonely heart turns to stone
and my soul sings a bitter song

Perhaps my unwise choices
in the past are now a punishment
that whispers in the softest voices
telling me that I will always lament

This emptiness that is my shroud
grows tighter pulling me into hell
where death is a dark and evil cloud
as I wait for Charon's calling bell

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Behold the Glory

In the sacred black of nighttime
where hang the stars awaiting
an angel's breath to blow them to
where God's hand is anticipating

their sweet alightening once more,
wrapped in glorious diamonds of dew
to shake upon the thirsty flowers
making them shiny and brand new

Blind below walk people half-asleep
who never look around to capture
the wonders that are everywhere
that make an ordinary day a rapture

Open your eyes oh, child, and peek
at a world that spins in glory unique

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Moonlight

/Night has no sun but has a light so fair
If you believe in magic, you will find it there
Moonglow tries to peek inside the blinds
and colors silver everything it finds

If you have dreams aborning, moonglow will bring
joy and hope and happiness, if you let them sing
There is a joy to be had in the swirling evenglow
The moon gods will riches upon you bestow

Open wide your heart, let the moonlight shine in,
It is a precious prize you will be blessed to win

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Down the Staircase

Up the Staircase
?

Your feet reluctantly begin
to climb the broken, filthy stairs,
in this hell-hole of outcast ones,
without someone who even cares.

Stairs stink of urine and feces.
They reek of cooking cheap fast food.
You know when you get to the top,
you won’t find one thing that is good.

Women who sell themselves for food,
or a bottle; a hit of dope.
Uncombed hair, dirty nails lined black,
no pride or the least bit of hope.

Here live the cowboys who let men
ride them so they can pay the rent.
Some sweaty man who stinks of filth,
that a pimp on a corner sent.

A saggy mattress with roaches
and mouse-holes, a yellow pillow
stiff with things you do not want to
know, sheets as rough as old Brillo.

Here they live and here they all die,
unremembered, unrepentant.
Potter’s field is the next stop, but it
at least has no outrageous rent.

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Awakening

In my garden, the only place I thrive
there lives a tiny bird who keeps me alive
If others enter, little bird flies away
But near by me, he seems to love to stay

He makes a sound like a click on a switch,
took me many days to tune to his pitch
He rests tiny feet on wire tomato cages
or on bamboo poles that gather sages

He seems to be telling me little bird tales
about cabbages, carrots, and dark-green kales
There are carrots and radishes almost grown,
and peas from seeds most carefully sown

Beans are blooming, cucumbers are crawling
toward any stick where they hear the sun calling
My garden will feed many of us through the summer
blessed by a clicking bird rather than a hummer

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Cherish

Seeds have snuck out and scattered
to lay beneath the earth for winter's reign
Knowing they will have their time
and come through the warming soil again

Everything to their season, according to God
that the earth may replenish itself once more
to become food for all the hungry families
and the flowers we all wonder at and adore

Cherish God's plan of life in your heart too,
that each season given is special to you

Details | Sherry Asbury Poem

The Dope Man

The dope man drives a car
9 miles long and 3 miles wide
Those are someone's daughters
who will have to pay for this ride

There is gold upon his fingers
rings jingle-jangle from his nose
People look up, then look down
pretend not to signal him as he goes

A breath, a sigh - a lust gone wild
Junkies who buy his poison
are some desperate mother's child

Fingers dig and fingers search...
fingers spell out a prayer...
Let that money for the dope man
be safe in a pocket somewhere

Rigs are primed and rigs are filled
Blood tells its story straight
Tourniquets and flexing veins...
mad moans as the bodies wait

The dope man drives a hard bargain...
He wants the strings to your soul
He sells dreams - he sells visions
that take a terrible toll