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Best Poems Written by Rita Burns

Below are the all-time best Rita Burns poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Well for Lost Wishers

Have you seen that old wishing well
It’s the place where dead dreams dwell
Where onlookers can tell
That this is where many hopes fell

Please don’t visit that old wishing well
It’s a place where you’ll shed a few tears
And you’ll tremble with fear
And you’ll realize that none of your dreams are near
Are near

A goal for a penny
Some desires for a dime
The unfulfilled are many
They have payed for humanity’s crimes

Lady Luck won’t see wishes through 
She’s tired of people, she’ll always refuse
All of your wishes are yours to pursue
Cause if you throw them in that well
Your future is doomed
You have much to lose

Now you look at that old wishing well
And your hold on your money’s not tense
You could face consequence
Of letting your guard down and losing your sense

So intrigued by that old wishing well
In the water the coins lost their shine
And it’s not hard to find
The quivers and shivers that run down your spine
Down your spine

Aspirations for a quarter
Hope for a half of a dollar
Your time is getting shorter
You must decide if you’ll throw a coin in that water

Will you surrender and lose your mind
Paying a price for humanity’s crimes
Then you’d be a member of the lost kind
The people that left all they’ve worked for
Far behind

Leave the wishing well
Save your dearest dreams
Cause having the life you want
Is not that hard to achieve

By throwing a coin inside
You’ll lose all your human pride
You could go on a journey, embrace the ride
And yet you’ve followed the tide

So you’ve chosen that old wishing well
And now you are beyond any help
You’re like everyone else

Watch the new penny reach the ground slow
And it’s clear it’s the time that you know
That you’ve chosen wrong so,
Your shaking hand goes 

On a mission to retrieve 
Your own penny so you can believe

Turn your back to that old wishing well
It’s a place where dead dreams dwell
Now you can tell
It’s a place where hopes fell
You haven’t fallen to the spell

And no one should ever return
To that old wishing well

But as long as people do wrong
They’ll be those
Who will stay
By that wishing 
Well




Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024



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The Poison Butterflies

Have they heard
The flutter of bright wings
The birds are too scared to sing
All the crumbles
Of leaves on the trees
When it’s not fall has everyone wondering

Why is the world deciding to fall
Why are there many wings at every call
Why is all greenery dead as can be
It could only be one thing

The poison butterflies
Gliding through the skies
Finding what it takes to survive
The poison butterflies
Using the supply
Planning to do so much damage in so little time
Those poison butterflies

Have they heard
The crops are all dying
The children are crying
No matter the place
Mothers say
“My dears please don’t worry
We might not last long anyway”

Why is the world deciding to fall
Why won’t the leaders do anything at all
Why are people so blind to the beauty
It could only be one thing

The poison butterflies
Conquering the skies
Doing what it takes to survive
The poison butterflies
Staining the supply
Ready to do so much damage in so little time
Those poison butterflies

No one is safe from the terror of wings
Having more power than a thousand stings
Appearing so pretty but doing much harm
Escaping without any threat and alarm
Beware of the butterflies taking the skies
Close all the windows and leave places where they lie
They fly on flowers to ruin their core
Their contact on common folk bruises and spores

Everything’s died to the poison butterflies
Nothing left for the poison butterflies
 
The poison butterflies 
Conquered the skies
Did what it took to survive 
The poison butterflies
Spoiled the supply
Learned how to do so much damage in so little time
Those poison butterflies 

Have they heard
The butterflies rule everything
Treat them like the most fearful of kings
Mothers say 
“Dears, the world’s not as you know it
But we’ll have to learn that it is okay.”

When life as one knows it
Will be shattered and broken
It could be unspoken
To forget all the tokens
When nature conspires
People are not wired
To gather all that’s ruined and start their own fire

A entirely submissive herd
With so much to learn
But no time remains
They are all stuck in pain
Too afraid of what they could burn

So now and forever
The world is in the reign of those who
Knew how to fly
Conquered the skies
Did all they could to destroy earth in so little time
Those poison butterflies

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024

Details | Rita Burns Poem

Amelia Lane

Every day I spoke to Amelia Lane
The voice of my very dear sister
And although her words gave me great pain
I always had to be with her

She lit up a room, filled my TV screen
My wife glanced at me full of concern
My sister could never be callous or mean
But none of it lasted, I had much to learn

“Daddy,” said Ella, my daughter of joy
“Would you want to spend time with me?”
She showed me her prize, her favorite toy
“Sorry,” I said, “I’m much too busy.”

“Hello Leo,” Amelia spoke
“I miss you,” said I, a tear on my cheek
“Please don’t cry, you must learn to cope!”
I looked away, eyes about to leak

“Will you ever stop talking to her?”
I looked behind me, the voice was my wife
I cried, “Mara, you caused me to stir!”
“Well, sometimes sudden is a part of life.”

Mara looked at me, square in the eye
“Don’t look at me like that,” I started to beg
“You’ve abandoned your family!” my wife yelled
And those words felt like a kick in the leg

Hand trembling, the remote I seized
To Amelia, I planned to bid her goodbye
Mother and daughter began to look pleased
But saying I could move on was a big lie

Mara marched up to me, the remote she took
She said, “Amelia’s just a corporate machine!”
The screen turned off, I lay there shook
I said, “Now you’ve just ruined my dream!”

“No!” she yelled “There never was one.
Amelia’s an AI that says a few words
But you’re so obsessed, removed all your fun
To the point of neglect of your wife and girl.”

Mara was right, I had to admit
Amelia Lane was stripped of her soul
And then I wanted to throw a fit
An AI system could not make her whole

My sister had died, a true tragedy
And her exit was of own accord
But I was much too blind to see
All of her hatred innerly stored

A company had an idea so cruel
To let people choose what the dead could say
To rely on a sister of glitches, what a fool
I should have known all that mattered was pay

I no longer talk to my sister’s shell
I’m getting therapy in order to heal
And now I’m getting along quite well
I spend time with family, time’s mine to steal

Isn’t it tragic, this cruel world
Over a decade since AI was born
Any morality has been long hurled
Taking advantage of those who are torn

If AI can start to replicate the deceased
It’s scary to think what’s next at stake
For no fault of it’s own, AI’s time should cease
The problem’s the choices that us humans make

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024

Details | Rita Burns Poem

A Winding Road

A winding road
So far from home
The night is old and yet you have so long to roam
The wind blows cold
The time is bold
The future pages are blank and unforetold

Under the bright moon’s eyes
You would laugh and skip and dance
But those laughs have become cries
You’ll never get another chance
You drifted off with lullabies
And was guided by a hand
But now you have lost your love of the land

A winding road
A world of fire
The trees try to protect as enemies conspire
Your thoughts have might
All through the night
You must trudge on, it’s much too late for fright

Aching after swift rabbits
That you chased for your only thrill
Your life is so cruel
Your past can’t sleep under a hill
The flowers bundled under arms
In the meadows you would fly
The greenery is gone, all the nature’s went awry

A winding road
A croaking toad
You crumble to your knees from life’s heavy load
And as you sigh
You know you mind
That you’ve left everything you’ve ever loved behind

A world of hate
Not one you chose
When you wonder why it’s like this
No one knows
Just like you don’t know where to go
On this dark, unforgiving road

You’ve given all your living
Without anything to take
As dawn approaches
You don’t have much left at stake
At least you have your will
And at least you have your soul
But even that is no longer whole

So far from what used to be your home
On this winding road

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024

Details | Rita Burns Poem

The Leaf Painters

Bound to the rise and fall of the sun,
Ending long after they begun
They reach all the trees before October
To treasure and bless and paint them over

They are called the Leaf Painters, a mysterious sort
Hiding their careers behind their forts
Scientists plead them to never be factual
So they can claim everything as fully natural

But the Leaf Painters don’t mind all of the lies
It keeps their lives secret, it lets them thrive
They dedicate themselves to their art
Bringing the autumn all of their heart

They travel so far, to places so mellow
To change the leaves from green to yellow 
By the end of November the leaves all fall
And it looks like they did nothing all

But they brought so much joy in those autumn months
The smiles make them think it was enough
They come home with a fortune, but still cannot wait
For the following autumn to take place

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024



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Quailimore Drive

The strangiest livestreet of all the days,
No place so perfectly townsplit,
Half of this street is in Fillblubber,
And the other half is in Cawbit.

The Nensorays on the Fillblubber side,
Never utter or cry or caportle.
The house as soundpinched as olimats,
No one knows why they are so fortle.

The Packershaws on the Cawbit side,
Own a dwelling that is so farumtious.
They pride themselves in gorgons of riches,
Unaware they are oh so varaitious.

The Xebaisys on the Fillblubber side,
Have a flogarden the morost serene.
It’as only eshalias and gymions,
Any else is a destorphious weed.

Lastly, the Larpins on the Cawbit side,
Never passtimers in their humblethy home,
Always wogging or waving or whisinging, 
With no newsilly noise becom’ere own

A few other neighdwells are on the street,
But they are soridon and mundane.
Maybe they’et a corbin of chance,
When they feel somelse than kiffer pain

A place where love carfuffles and kings,
Where skipperly children run and play.
Nowhere is so Bretumptian awill remain,
The strangiest livestreet of all the days.

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024

Details | Rita Burns Poem

Midnight

A deafening silence on every turn,
Darkness swallows the twinkling burn,
Yesterday’s grievances need to be learned,
Before one loses this day to earn.

Frogs that croak with little care,
Owl eyes that follow and stare,
Dark and cold, a fearsome pair,
Wreck havoc together, no corner spared.

The quiet night could soon be lost,
When no one prepares for the light of dawn.

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024

Details | Rita Burns Poem

Dawn

Shining stars shrivel and hide,
Slowly being swallowed into the sky,
The sun hides their heaving sigh,
A night of rest has just gone by.

A sky once hidden has now become bruised,
A mix of black and purple and blue,
A time of mystery, the beginning of truth,
For what happens when day comes through.

Eyelids flutter, a rooster crows
Sunrise is starting and everyone knows

Copyright © Rita Burns | Year Posted 2024


Book: Reflection on the Important Things