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Kathryn Roush Poem
I am an afterthought,
Unnecessary to the plot.
A seed so frail,
Poured out an empty pail.
Like a weed I grow,
My roots running shallow.
Look in envy,
At these walls so empty.
Just something to bring a smile,
But only last a while,
Then go away,
Before you stray,
Into that unconvincing truth,
Away from youth.
A mirror knows,
Not what it shows,
But wonders all the same.
Could it be,
That what I see,
Is still unknown,
Not imagination overblown.
I look into myself,
And see an empty shelf,
Of empty frames;
Dreams I cannot claim.
I cannot fill,
But cannot be still.
Against myself I rage,
With every single empty page.
A template incomplete,
Still supposed to compete,
Against their highs and lows,
And heaven only knows,
The dream I cannot claim.
The rules may not apply,
But not because I’m sly.
I did not come to play,
Yet here I have to stay.
You tell me its unfair,
But politely lend a chair,
For me to sit and wait,
Careful not to complain.
Yes, regretfully stare,
At your lended chair,
Shake your head,
At this undeveloped head.
Call me a martyr,
I’m not trying harder.
Call me a tyrant,
My screams are silent,
For I have suffered nothing.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
Why, wouldn't you
Often wonder
If something settled
In your soul
What player placed
The pallid thing
Gratitude to what god
Forgotten gone
Or offal offered
On what stone
To leave it lying
Or load its seed
What purpose caused
The poetic problem
Who to tell
To take it back
I was wrong
Their gift will weep
Or else its evil
Ever sleep
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
Falling, I am flying through time forever or fleeting,
Racing down, my death I dread,
Greatness- spite gravity! To the ground's last meeting.
To elements I am bared, bereaved of wings beating,
Heaven and earth, earth and heaven, howling fills my head,
Falling, am I flying through time forever or fleeting?
Reluctant, my eyes raise; Is this worth repeating?
To unlock a mind unsteady, understanding what's unsaid?
Greatness, despite gravity or to the ground's last meeting?
Castaway, cast away your care; Now cured, I'm competing,
Substantial or supposed, still these wings I spread.
Falling, now I am flying through time, forever fleeting.
Desperately I double down, my energy depleting,
I refuse that reality, my needle I re-thread
With greatness- spite gravity! To the ground's very last meeting.
Grow or die grateful; This gale I am greeting,
Leaving my loneliness, To freedom I am led
Falling, I am flying through time forever, fleeting
Greatness, despite gravity, till the ground's last meeting.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
Breath into heaven’s gaze,
Gifted upon her sky.
Looking down, heart amaze,
Tethered to, set to cry.
Tears of joy, sorrow too,
All must fall; loves release.
Her embrace speaks her truth,
More love’s a heart of peace.
From her lip, quiet sigh,
Breath of life, never cease.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
So spake simple Simon
On a breezy summer day,
Watch and wait a gust of wind
With tune of lute afar away.
And don’t despair a bud’s decay
But welcome dandelion fuzz.
Bid your eyes to busy bee,
Hear him join the song a-buzz.
Pink and purple petals cause
A subtle and polite milieu,
For summer’s simple day of song,
First dawn then day and then ensue.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
The wind displace those strands of braid unbound,
And bid a note of thanks for silent mind.
A chirp of birds from up the new spring ground,
Depicts beneath; a cozy worm, joy-blind.
I pray be free of hunting bird’s cold beak,
For I, as I do know am of that deep,
Dark world I did believe so dull and bleak.
Beg break the curse of all their cursing sleep.
Yet raised by loving wing-ed mum of air,
To rise with dawn and steal the breath of day,
I cannot stop from cursing at my hair,
And tell it ‘you are getting in my way’.
Yet I must stop the curse, for it is clear,
It is the silent earth that I hold dear.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
I have a secret hidden deep,
And that is where it must needs keep.
If love is one you wish the best,
Can truly say forget the rest,
A trusted friend you know is true,
Admired by the knowing few.
A few, I think, have loved me,
But mine is not who they should be.
With no begrudging, breath to flame,
There's only one whom I could name.
When, at night, I cannot sleep,
Every other thought I steep,
Will take the form of worried hope,
For one more day for one to cope.
Other lives do not bring worry,
And yet to one my cares will hurry.
I try each day, not to speak,
Of one whom I can never seek.
And to the one I daily touch,
I'll wonder if I've said too much.
The only one for whom I'd pray,
Would hate the thought if said that way.
With each of us of Albert's ilk,
It comes to not with silent silk.
Yet now I know there will be two,
For summer brings his breath anew.
My tiny heart will soon forget,
The one for two that I'll beget.
The one will know and take a seat,
To selfless smile and happy greet,
A more befitting love of mine,
For whom to write a simple rhyme.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
I start to wish, but ask the cost,
A genie calls, 'now call it yours',
But satisfied, desire is lost.
So visit me at Styx' dark moors,
A wake, for waking to my loss.
One final hope? Repeated course.
A tug of strings at heart of moss,
One slow to ire, and too, desire,
In dark I sow, at day I cross,
At eve I stand with bow of fire.
Reborn, I weep, then take with sleep,
Returned once more, to lonely mire.
You ask of me, of what I see,
I ask of you, a date and time,
The truth will change, and with it, me.
I try to speak, less wrapped in rhyme,
Of what I felt, and what was true,
But lies persist, a heart's true crime;
To give me love, then break the ruse.
By love, I mean a wish to keep,
By ruse, I mean fair-weather cruise.
So slow I walk, or rather creep,
Up to my muse, afraid to spook,
Yet I, with laser focus leap.
My prey, I've prayed, will fawn, not flee,
But now it fights, while I just cower,
Now weak and fearful, up a tree,
I fear to think I'm in a tower.
Its bricks of loss, and time, and grace.
Its spiral stairs, my lack of power,
To take a step, and see my face,
Of quiet hope from yesterday.
I tell myself to keep my pace,
Remind myself what I should say.
Accept the beast that was my hope,
And cause its feral heart to stay.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
A soft blue cotton
On even softer skin;
The sweetest little package
Tucked just beneath my chin.
Across pale fabric
Little foxes roam.
Wherever he may wander,
He'll know my arms as home.
A bright blue blanket
Serves as a sky,
To bring into focus
The twinkle of his eyes.
Clear blue pools;
All that I can see,
When my baby boy
Is looking up at me.
Look my little baby,
And know that I can see.
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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Kathryn Roush Poem
simple
refined
unapologetically elegant
words used to describe a beauty that lingers within
buttons
freckles
width of a finger
hidden in quiet places for only the astute to see
folds &wrinkles, shadows &seams
soft borders that hold back a grace that overflows
sifting
straining
gently seeping flow
a pouring out of details to light the world around
Hard, Cold, Unkind or Uncaring.
Unknown things that cannot encroach upon brilliance
tender
thoughtful
meek &mild
understated pleasures both in gift and in receipt
shifting then lowering… an upturning of the face
balancing by the unspoken order of levels in space
asymmetric and undulating - slightly askew
unexpected effects of a stunningly natural stance
corners
quiet
peace or solace
found only by those who would venture to seek
Copyright © Kathryn Roush | Year Posted 2026
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