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Yellow Rose Poem
TEXAS PRAIRIE PARADISE
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here, where the horizon bends.
the morning sun spills its warmth.
the Texas prairie stretches~
a vast unbroken beauty where
golden grasses sway.
the air, thick with the scent of sage,
wraps around me like a familiar embrace.
dust motes dance in the light,
tiny galaxies suspended
in the quiet splendor of morning.
cacti punctuate the landscape
these sentinels of resilience,
their spines reminding me
that life thrives in the harshest of places,
and wildflowers burst forth, fragile yet fierce.
here, the earth breathes differently.
my heart learns to listen
to the distant call of a hawk,
to the rustle of a rabbit, and
to the soft sighs of the prairie.
the hawk circles high above me,
its shadow gliding across the land,
a guardian of this sprawling solitude,
reminds me of the freedom,
of the vastness within and without.
I stand rooted in this stillness, finding clarity.
in the expanse, I find belonging.
beneath the wide-open sky,
I am both lost
and found.
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
WAYS OF PROVIDENCE
Poem written for “This or That Poetry Contest,” Edward Ibeh, sponsor, 7/22/2025
“God planted the seeds of all the trees, and you see to what a height and shade they have grown! So, it is with the Bible. You may read a verse this year, and forget it, and it will come back to you a year hence, when you least expect to remember it.” James Fenimore Cooper, The Deerslayer
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Nestled in the soil of my heart, God, the Divine Gardener,
lays seeds of wisdom, each verse a tiny promise,
waiting for the rain of remembrance.
Time passes by like a feather in the wind,
and as a traveler, I recall a line, a verse~
a glimmer of truth that suddenly comes to light.
It encircles my heart like a vine of grace,
reminding me that seeds planted in my soul's soil
await providence and the right season to sprout.
Oh, my heart remembers, just as trees remember the rain!
And here I am, growing beneath the shade
of the proverbial wisdom of God.
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
submitted into "Premier VII Open Poetry Contest," Rob Carmack, Sponsor
ARRIVING AT EL PASO © Sara Etgen-Baker 2025
Some 20+ years ago, hubby and I took up roots, moving across the entire state of Texas for the hope of a better future. This poem attempts to capture my initial thoughts upon our arrival. (Yes, our future was better.)
The road, a ribbon of asphalt, unfurls beneath my tires,
each mile a memory, each turn a question—
what does it mean to arrive?
The sun dips low, casting long shadows over the desert,
here the horizon bleeds into the sky—
a canvas of ochre and rose.
The Franklin mountains rise like sentinels.
I wonder what pilgrims have crossed these rugged trails,
what hearts have beat against the same blazing sun.
The air is thick with dust and promise,
the scent of sunbaked earth
mingling with the faintest trace of rain.
Dust dances in the twilight,
and I am caught in the rhythm of it all,
the pulse of this border town.
El Paso, where the Rio Grande river flows,
a silver ribbon dividing yet uniting
two cultures, two languages, two countries.
I stand here in the embrace of El Paso,
feeling the weight of possibility and
the quiet promise of tomorrow.
Twilight descends, stars emerge~
tiny pinpricks of light
against the deepening blue.
I am a traveler in a world,
one that feels both foreign
and achingly familiar.
The weight of arrival settles on my shoulders—
not just a place, but a moment,
a step into the warmth of a new beginning.
Alas, I am a sojourner, a seeker of stories
finding my way in this city of
bridges, border crossings, and arrivals.
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
SUNSET
golden sun sinks low
moon's pale crescent in the west
stars start to twinkle
silent forest deep
moon's soft light upon its trees
shadows stretch and yawn
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
TIME IN A TEAPOT
Remembering the mornings of sipping tip with my mother, who has long since passed...
gentle morning breeze stirs the air
whispers of steam rise in the morning hush
teapot's whistle pierces the air
teapot’s awakening call
teapot’s spout forms a gentle stream
teapot's warmth begins to flow
teapot’s charm, a magic spell
rising from teapot’s fragrant leaves
scent of tea fills the air
stories are told, and memories unfold
echoes murmur from the past
hours slip by like grains of sand
love and laughter, tears and woe
settle in the teapot’s belly
time dwells in the unassuming teapot’s heart
teapot’s secrets locked within its core
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
submitted into Brian Strands 1397 Poetry Contest, July 2025
MEMORABLE BALLET
her thoughts pirouette, twirl, and spin,
a choreographed ballet across the blank screen.
her words harmonize and blend
transforming them into beautiful poetry.
her soaring imagination rises and leaps
like a grand jeté, the poem takes flight.
imagery and rhythm create a melodic verse
like well-orchestrated music, her poetry fills the air.
meter is the measure that governs the pace,
as her passion finds her poetic voice.
in a delicate dance of love and creativity
like a pas de deux, the words entwine.
a crescendo of emotions her heart doth express
like a grand finale, the poem reaches its peak.
her soul dances wild and free
like a memorable ballet is her poetry.
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
LOVE LETTERS FROM A BLACK HOLE©2025 Sara Etgen-Baker
Gravity bends; time stretches, light falters.
Love letters appear through the void;
Written in the language of stardust,
their ink swirls like the arms of faraway galaxies.
Through the event horizon, I write back
penning my heart to you with stardust and hope,
each letter a promise that I will find you
in the swirling chaos where love defies gravity.
I have discovered the truth:
even from a black hole,
love can escape.
In its orbit, we are infinite.
(poem written for BLACK HOLE LOVE POETRY CONTEST, Tom Woody Sponsor)
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
ENDINGS
endings whisper their wisdom,
teaching me the art of release,
how to cradle the past gently
in the palms of my hands,
to honor the stories that shaped me,
while stepping forward,
into the light of new beginnings.
endings, I think, are not the sharp cuts
we so often fear,
but rather the soft sighs of a book closing,
the last page turning,
where ink lingers,
each word a heartbeat echoing in the stillness.
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
NIGHTTIME IN TEXAS, THE LONE STAR STATE
crimson skies ablaze
cactus shadows stretch and yawn
'Lone Star' says ‘goodnight’
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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Yellow Rose Poem
SUMMER SUNRISE
The sun blooms on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue. It is the brilliant flower of the sky warming our summer days and inviting us to a fresh start.
crimson, scarlet, rose
sunrise hues slowly ascend
morning’s gentle start
Copyright © Sara Baker | Year Posted 2025
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