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Ruth Toole Poem
Love is...
the reason I hate.
Love is...
the reason I cry.
Love is...
the reason I fight.
Love is...
the reason I mourn.
Love is...
the reason I sing.
Love is...
the reason I dance.
Love is...
the reason I paint.
Love is...
the reason I write.
Love is...
the reason I travel.
Love is...
the reason I hide.
Love is...
the reason I help.
Love is...
the reason I learn.
Love is...
the reason I die.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
ABC
is written on the board,
123
Is covering the floor
Ladybugs and bumble bees
come flying through the air
Bouncing balls and skipping ropes,
are banging on the walls
Snakes fly and pigs swim
through this chaos-happy room
Give me just a minute
to go find a broom
Straws and juice,
are falling from the ceiling,
Duck!
the children just brought the geese inside
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2012
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Ruth Toole Poem
Tic toc, tic toc,
Around the clock,
Over the moon,
Beyond the stars,
Through the trees,
Where flowers grow,
Where night is day and day is night,
Where children laugh,
And grown-ups dance,
Among the tombs,
Of those long since dead,
Remembering what was,
Celebrating what is now,
Looking towards the future,
The sickness is gone,
Forever gone,
No more to fear,
Freedom is here.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
Silence comes from her lips,
Not a word,
Nor a sound, nothing,
But a tapping noise,
As her fingers move quickly,
Along her keyboard,
She doesnt look at the screen,
But instead, watches tv,
Her fingers pause for a moment,
Letting the messages go through,
Then she smiles, and starts again,
The texting hound,
A non-stop machine.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2012
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Ruth Toole Poem
I dreamt a dream,
So horrible and cruel,
That my screams echoed through the house,
The sight of the the men in dark cloaks,
Struck fear into my soul,
Though I did not know why,
Until I seen the woman,
Her body bruised and mangled,
Her deep green eyes filled with tears of agony and dispair,
Her hair, which had once been long and silky,
Now was rudely chopped and tangled,
One of the men in cloaks began to speak,
And as he spoke another man poked te woman with something sharp,
I heard her screams,
I saw her blood,
Then I saw the brutal man, tie the woman up,
I did not understand why,
It seemed so wrong,
The crowd in which was gathered,
Stared in a uneasy, fearful silence,
The only sound being that of which the men in cloaks made,
When they lite the fire beneath her feet,
I heard myself crying out, telling them to stop,
I felt someone grab my arms,
My screams echoed hers as the flames licked her flesh,
They tried to drag me away,
As I struggled, I watched her die,
Burnt alive,
The crowd disappeared,
Staring at me with knowing eyes,
I suddenly knew,
The next woman to be burned,
Was myself.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
I sit and stare,
The morning light seeming to glare,
Shadows dance across my face,
As if reminding me that I'm a disgrace,
I see the blade in my hand,
A steady reference to the sand,
The thrill of desire runs down my spine,
As if it were something of divine,
I trail the blade across my thigh,
Shivering with delight and a sweet sigh,
Certain calmness fills my soul,
The deepest darkness of coal,
Drifting away with a peaceful end,
Until the time comes to cut again.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
I close my eyes and see,
A place that's wild and green,
As I start to dance,
I just so happen glance,
To see the hurling wind,
Come gushing down the bend,
My mind can't comprehend,
That such a place can end,
I cry out in horror,
Th leaves weeping in sorrow,
And so I open my eyes,
My voice screaming "Lies!",
I turn and look at him,
Glaring in such a way,
That nothing he could say,
Could sway the damage done.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
Dreams are the haven of the night,
The relaxing of the mind,
The wishes we yern to come true.
Dreams are the sanctuary of our deepest thoughts,
The ever present hope that life will get better,
The fire that burns withing our hearts.
Dreams are the warnings of life,
The reminders of sins long since been commited,
The horrors of our imagination,
The brutal reminder of how fragile life is.
And yet, with all this and so much more,
Contributing to the things that dreams are,
We, as a race, as a species on this planet,
Only we have the courage,
To close our eyes and dream away the night.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
The days first light,
Brings bittersweet delight,
To the boy above the rooms,
And although he lives,
Above our heads,
We never give him notice,
Nor find the time to ask him why
The world is cut off from him,
A boy as fragile as he,
Never makes a sound,
He does not speak,
He barely eats,
Yet his parents pay him no attention,
A servant goes but once a day,
To bring those things that people need,
And so you see,
This boy can't be,
Like you or me,
This boy alone is one of many,
Who, by some chance of cruel fate,
Is left alone, and cold,
Completely forgotten.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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Ruth Toole Poem
He seen her,
He threatened her life.
She looked at him,
She wasn't afraid.
Then something happened,
Something no one expected.
Her feared her,
Yet that fear turned to trust.
He counts on her,
Depends on her.
He calls her up,
And she is there.
When she left,
He changed his life.
He causes problems,
That much is true.
But he waits for her,
Looks forward to seeing her.
If or when she returns,
He will never let her leave.
She is his world,
The reason he changed.
Copyright © Ruth Toole | Year Posted 2011
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