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Holly Moore Poem
I am naked now, my limbs are bare
A chill blows through me during the night air
No one notices me, children do not climb
I stand still hoping not to lose a branch of mine
No green, no orange, no red I am just grey
This season I do not like because of being this way
Soon the sun will begin to show
My little buds of color start to glow
Encircled by luscious green grass I will be
Seasons are my life, this next one I like.
©Holly P. Moore
January 2013
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2013
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Holly Moore Poem
There was a little boy whom I called “Joshie.” He had a face like sunshine. He would play outside all the time; never coming in when I said to. He loved to skateboard until the sun went down. I would say “Joshie come in; this is going to get the best of you!” He would just smile that silly grin and look down. He loved to help the elderly for he felt their pain. He charmed them with his compassion and passion. He loved pen and paper, brush and paint, too. For art was his talent, it was what he loved to do. Awards were plenty, recognition was abound. Once they found Joshie’s work, nothing could turn them around. He loved his dog Oliver, just a little thing at that. Whenever he would lick me, Joshie said he was giving me a bath! Joshie was good with the little ones for he knew how to play. Make believe was his specialty and it was always a good day. Grandma K-K and he were very close; little spats now and then. The best she only wanted, so she gave much attention to him. Jonathan, Joshie’s little brother, was the greatest of all. He did want not to be called Jon-Jon because that made him feel small. Joshie taught Jonathan to ride, and Jon taught Joshie to skate. It really did not matter for they always stayed up late. Jingle bells and peppermint sticks; our favorite time of year. Houses lit with colors. What is your favorite pick? Joshie awoke with the sun, while Jonathan wanted none. So, the stairs down Joshie would go ready to take a peek; deciding to open everything just so we could sleep! But, they grew older. And, Joshie moved to the city. He was not well, but he did not dwell,
He just did not reach out to us. The evils of this world encircled my son and slowly took him in. The devil and all his workers really did a number on him. I reached, and reached stretching my arms long.. I called for help, but no response for he was gone. He was going down a path of destruction, and there was no reason or deduction. I thought I would watch him simmer that the bad habits would slowly evaporate. But, the more I watched, the more he detached and Joshie seemed to dissipate. Merry Christmas, Mommy!..... I love you, Joshie. But, can we go back to bed?.....Only if you take me, ‘cause there is no one I want instead. The last time I said “Goodnight”... they were burying him in the ground. The pain remains; the memory will not fade. I just want him around.
Holly P. Moore
October 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
Wrath
Do not be angry with your fellow friend
It tears you apart
And, it puts stress on your heart
Greed
No need to own more than you already have
Resolve your passion for those in need
Step up and be the one to lead
Sloth
The Truth of the Word is written
Take heed so you will not it take lightly
For the Words are not meant slightly
Pride
God gave us two meanings
We can choose to be more than we should
Or make better choices to not be misunderstood
Lust
A powerful emotion this is, takes control
Thoughts in the mind are intense and disrupting
Prayer to the Higher Power will be the only way to interrupting
Envy
Submit not to it
No concern of others’ wealth, you have what you need
With that, you will succeed
Gluttony
Waste not your food, drink, or belongings
Those who have nothing, distribute your supply
Chances are you will get by.
©Holly P. Moore
November 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
It’s in the air thick and strong
Doesn’t mellow in your defeat
You notice the space of smell
Something you cannot dispel
Down your back breathing ascends
You're defenseless, it tries to break in
The attack is his design
An avoidance you try to plan
But, up it creeps from your toes, on and on it goes
Your spine shivers from what is behind
Or just trying to get into your mind.
Holly P. Moore
October 12, 2012
"Whats Your Fear" Contest Entry
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
Suicide my untimely death
I can no longer take another breath
I feel empty inside
No one hears my cries
I do not know how to handle this
It is not something that I can dismiss
I used to be happy and kind
But now just never mind
I have just become a disguise
For everyone’s eyes
Would it be better off if I commit suicide...?
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What is wrong with you!
Just because you have the “blues?”
And, what are we supposed to do
If you follow through?
Spend thousands of dollars to remove the rope
Your dead body set free, leaving us with no hope
What will happen to the family?
Do we just step aside silently...?
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My son is gone, you are in my dreams
Every night it is always the same theme
Beautiful mountains and scenery
Amazing butterflies, I cannot believe
You are just a little boy
Maybe three or four
Do not go, I say
Please stay, please stay!
So what do I do?
I just open my eyes...
To suicide.
"Survivors of Suicide Contest"
Holly Moore
November 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
Life
beautiful, adventurous
loving, striving, achieving
happiness, communication, loneliness, separation
aging, declining, passing
aloof, calm
death
©Holly P. Moore
November 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
xJ
xxO
xxxS
xxxxH
xxxxxU
xxxxxxA
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxx
x
x
You took me into your world through my dreams, I appreciate. Tonight
we were on a boat, floating on an electric blue lake. All these places
I get to visit, so serene, visions to be seen. People floating by in
little tiny boats, just like you and me. I wonder if they were
coming or going, only you will ever know. I’m glad you
took me there tonight, where else can we go?
©Holly P. Moore
December 2012
Dedicated to my beloved son, Joshua
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
I make the appointment all excited
for my feet look like my dads, uninviting.
I anxiously wait until the day of my arrival,
expecting...who-ha’s...claps...and grins.
None of this sort grabs me, instead it is
pick out color...pick out color...and then she turns with chagrin.
That is okay...I am still excited...I try to crawl into the big chair,
but I am only five feet, and she’s practically shoveling me in.
I have on a dress you know...hello...can I have towel?
Oh my gosh, the sky is falling...I did not pick out my color!
And, so we begin, she really is my friend.
This is my favorite place to be, and I love her best of all.
But, she turns on the water, and oh...I want to smack her.
My feet are going to ignite from the heat!
I just want to sit here; I do not want the chair to go off like a rocket,
massaging every ounce of my being, things falling out of my pocket.
I came here to relax, my feet are burning, and my voice is quivering.
Good gosh woman, turn this thing off!
Things finally settle down...we begin to talk around.
How’s your daughter...How is your mother?...Can I have some rice from the kitchen?
She laughs at me...I smile at her...
Oh, no, I forgot to pick out my color!
Her husband comes by.
I say...sure, I will give it a try!
I admire my jellybean toes and pay her the dough.
We hug, she laughs at me, and tells me luv ya!
"Humor Me" Contest
©Holly P. Moore
October 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
Rolling hills majesty, lush grass for the surrounding space
Overlooking two white horses from a fairy tale across the way
Masses of flowers to be seen flowing in vases made of strength
A hush of dew in the morning dusts this peaceful place
Vibrant luminaries around each piece shine in the night air
Their story told on celebrated markers placed precisely everywhere
People will come to visit, kneel, and talk of the days before
This is the loved one’s home now and the caretaker is their saving grace
A hush of dew in the morning dusts this peaceful place.
©Holly P. Moore
December 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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Holly Moore Poem
Travel
Does not change theme
Up and down, we go far
Coming back from where we began
Need Map
©Holly P. Moore
December 2012
Copyright © Holly Moore | Year Posted 2012
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