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Best Poems Written by Lena Pate

Below are the all-time best Lena Pate poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Cathedral Spiritual

Pink and grey walls rise like castle parapets
Reflecting the sunrise in golden hues
I ride along the canyon to the sound of leather
Creaking softly in the tranquil mountain air

Sweat and horse, with layers of dust
Well worn jeans against a speckled hide
Gently swaying in a unified rhythm
Languidly haze swirling about our feet

Around the bend we startle snow geese
Flocks floating, rising, settling serenely
Angling, landings against the lapping waters
Black tipped wings against wintry white

Sandhill cranes foraging for cutthroat trout
Reflecting blue beside the meandering creek
Majestically standing, patiently waiting
Blue dragon flies dancing within their reach

Off the beaten path we wander
Past yucca swaying in the breeze
O’er grama blue as sky beneath us
Cushioned carpet of pine and peat

Rock squirrels scurry across a Douglas fir
Scolding woodpeckers on a burnt oak tree
The chorus is merged by the hoot of an owl
And the clip clop against rocks as we proceed

Canopies of piñon line the trail
Mixtures of conifer shade the landscape
Grey blue greens with clusters of sienna
Cathedral spiritual within an ageless solitude

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The Brine, It Is a Calling

Elusive dreams, I wait on rocky shores
Looking out upon the waters of a troubled storm
Crashing, tearing, reaching to drag me under
Swirling about my ankles, slick rocks beneath my feet.
 
Will you reach for me when I am falling?
Will you watch me as I drown?
Will you feel any sorrow if I left you?
Would you help me find solid ground?
 
Siren voices whisper and entice me
Foggy mists beyond my reach
Dancing, calling, whispering of a silent sleep,
If I but release my hold and swim in waters deep.

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Communion With Dawn

In the stillness of the early morn 
When nature shakes off the remnants of slumber 
Leaves stretching, flowers opening 
I sit quietly with my cup of tea in reflection.

Gazing at the first visages of dawn 
As the sun lazily climbs into the heavens 
Gradually dressing the day in a kaleidoscope of hues 
Huddling a bit deeper into the quilt I have wrapped about me.

Oh quiet morn what blessing will you bestow today? 
A gentle shower, a warm caress? 
Or will passion shatter us from our doldrums, 
Enveloping fury of an unleashed tempest.

Communion with nature, I tune into earths heartbeat 
Thundering through my blood, rejuvenating my soul 
I rise and salute you in prayer and thanksgiving 
Calmer from the spiritual union of birthing a new day.

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The Picnic of Living

Life was never meant to be a fairytale
But rather a copulation of incidents
That improves our knowledge base
By creating experiences to learn from

Life is more like a picnic
Good food, entertaining company
A soft blanket, sunshine and a cool breeze
Making a perfectly planned day to enjoy

But with each picnic a few blips must enter
No equation is precise when there are variables
Insects invade; ants swarm as well as bees
Flies in the fruit and sticks and stones beneath the rug

Then there is the picnic when nothing goes right
You brought the food but not the drinks
A storm brews over the lake blowing a cold breeze
Bringing with it a drenching downpour in its wake

Life is only what you make of each experience
Laugh in the face of adversity but cry when you must
Regroup when plans change or life takes a sudden dive
Plan for tomorrow but don’t forget today

Play in the rain when life sends you a storm
Study the flowers that entice the bees to roam
Clean away the sticks and stones that block your daily paths
Drink the wine of life that brings passions to your soul

Give freely of yourself but take time relax
Work hard to achieve, playing just as hard to enjoy
Accept who and what you are, tolerating even the flaws
You cannot change what is, but you can improve from within

Each breath you draw, each day you awaken
These are gifts to not take lightly
It is not through others that you achieve or succeed
But rather, in the belief, that you can prosper by who you have become

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Forbidden Love

He stood upon the cliffs awaiting the sunrise
Watching as the last of the moon descended
Anticipating the light meeting the sea
Listening to the waves kissing the shore.

As the tips of light began to reflect
He saw her on the rocks below
Sable hair embracing her shoulders
Skin so pale against the sea washed rocks

He watched as she finger combed her tresses 
Humming softly to the morn
A siren song to warm and greet him
Watching, yearning, wanting more.

She must have felt his eyes upon her
Green met fawn linking sea and sky
Caressing, calling, passions rising
Heart beats crashing with the tides

Both knew magic in their souls
Part man, part hawk he spread his wings
On gentle currents down he drifted,
Softly landing on the shore.

But soul mates they could never be
For she was not his kind
Through eyes that glistened with briny tears
She bidden him good life and goodbye

For her world was not of air and sun
Her world was wet and blue
She donned her skin and swam away
As selkie maidens do.

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Melancholy Mists

I gaze at pregnant clouds outside my window
Overcast to match my inner darkness
Wind howls through trees like sadness through my soul
Melancholy mists cloak me in their soft caress.

Raindrops like chandelier prisms
Illusive rainbows reflect off crystal panes
Lazy daydreams of drifting recollections
Water color tapestries of tie dyed stains.

What went before cannot be changed
Dust motes dancing on stagnant air
Aspiration surrendered to forgotten needs
A past littered with dreams stripped bare.

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My Brother, My Friend

I followed you around when we were young
I worshiped you; your praises I sung
You were so much older and wiser and right
You were my north star in my blackest night

I broke your clowns when I was three
I cried on your shoulder when I skinned my knee
You were always there when I needed a friend
You were the unwavering force that would not bend

We sang in the kitchen, you and me
Classic oldies, and ballads and Fiddle de Dee
Summertime in soprano and bass
Our own special concert in a warm homey place

I grew to my teens and you threatened the boys
Not letting them treat me like one of their toys
Then off to war you went and I cried and I prayed
That God would return you to us as we waited afraid

Home you came; we wed the loves of our life’s
Through happiness, birth and the day to day strife’s
We shared every one; burdens and bliss
Even the death of our parents, we made it through this

You moved across country but we still stayed in touch
Birthdays, holidays, grandchildren and such
But you called me tonight to give me the news
That my best friend and my brother was singing the blues

The prognosis wasn’t good; I cannot accept
I cussed, and I paced and then I just wept
Now I'm praying again that He'll answer my plea
To help you, to cure you, to keep you with me.

Details | Lena Pate Poem

Hard Life, Well Spent

Cowboys herdin’ cattle cross dusty trails
Sandy hooves paint ground fog in their wake
Shuffling along swattin’ flies off molty hides
Riders amble aside keeping eye on their stake

Chuck wagon camps, setting up by a creek
Beans and pan bread cookin’ over hot stones
Coffee’s meandering aroma penetrates the air
Greeting men carrying saddles over tired bones

Ranch hands scout the waters nearby
Look to the sky to judge the night
Storms a comin’ as night encroaches
Coyotes restless, cries rent last light

Cattle dogs alert to changes
Nip the heels of stragglin’ calves
Cowhand slaps his rope while coaxing
Blistered hands and lips in need of salves

Cowhands sing to calm their charges
Bedrolls gathered near the fire
Dreaming of a trail once taken
And of their loves as they retire

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A Warm Welcome To Aimee

I cried along with you when I heard on the phone
Your first cries as you made yourself known
With little fists flying and a voice to be heard
You let everyone know, you would not be deferred.

With angelic eyes and a cute little nose
You were pink and rosy, right down to your toes
Everyone cooing, laughing and yes a tear too
For the new life and blessing on your day of debut.

With a head full of hair the color of fawn
Born in the morning just before dawn
You visited awhile and then went out like a light
An angel needs rest to shine that bright.

So welcome Aimee Michelle, we’ve waited so long
To have you with us; to hear your life song
Never doubt for a moment how much you are loved
You are our blessing that God sent from above.


*To my son who lost a son last year but was blessed last night with a daughter.  I
couldn't be there due to illness so I only got to hear her first cries over the phone.

Details | Lena Pate Poem

Childhood Fears

It lived in the toy box
It lived under the bed
It lived in the closet 
And under the shed

It lived in the basement
All musty and dark
It lived in the hallway
It lived in the park

It lived under the bushes 
That grew by the fence
It lived in the woods
Where the trees were so dense

It lived in the attic
Where old trunks were kept
It was stealth and quite sneaky
It attacked when I slept

Dad would come to my rescue
When I was afraid
He would check out the closets
He would close all the shades

He would leave on a night light
Outside of my room
He swept under the bed
With mom’s old battered broom

He would hug me and tell me
I was big and so brave
Then he’d yell at the boogie
And make it behave

So tonight I was called
To my little ones room
I smile as I walk in
To defeat boogies that loom