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Best Poems Written by Cheryl Ann Ross

Below are the all-time best Cheryl Ann Ross poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

Dirty Laundry

I’ve come to believe that dirty laundry
is alive.
Just when you’re down to one batch, you turn
around and there are five.

And I also believe that laundry runs around
at night by itself.
“Cause “no one” gets it dirty, or takes it down
from the shelf.

“I don’t know where it all came from” is
what I always hear.
All those towels have a mind of their own, is
now what I fear.

There’s four kids, three adults and seven days in
the week.
How that can turn into twenty batches,..to this
question, the answer I seek.

If I’d just invested in Proctor and Gamble when
they first went on the market,
Today I’d have a Rolls Royce, along with  a 
driver to park it.

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

September, Please Don'T Come

September, I‘m asking you, “please don’t come.” 
I can’t take the heartbreak every year.
I need something to make me numb.
Let me see if I can make this more clear.

<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>

This is the month that he and I wed.
The twelfth day was one of the best.
It was so much fun, looking ahead.
I felt we were wonderfully blessed.

It’s also the month, that he was created.
On day number thirteen.
From the first of the month he anxiously awaited
his birthday cake and ice cream.

Two thousand and one was a horrible year.
Of coarse, in that month we got the news.
We found out from the doctor our greatest fear.
His life, he was going to lose.

The cancer was growing deep down inside.
Nine months of treatment he took.
When he lost his hair, I remember he cried.
In the mirror, he didn’t want to look.

But I still thought, he was so handsome.
Hair just didn’t matter to me.
The hardest part was watching him succumb
to cancer, the deadliest disease.

Two thousand and three was the worst year of all.
Five days short of his fiftieth birthday,
 On the eighth of the month the Lord came to call
and took my sweet husband away.

<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>

So now maybe you can understand.
Maybe it doesn’t seem so dumb,
when I take you by the hand and ask you,
“September, please don’t come.”

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

If I Were a Flower

If I were a flower, the one I’d most like to be,
is a big and beautiful Calla Lily.
I’d stand so tall, in the garden by my friends.
My bloom would stay open even when the sunshine ends.

The aroma I emit would tell all that it’s spring.
To children's faces, I’d bring a grin.
I would let everyone know that Easter is near.
Winter is something no longer to fear.

Now they have taken and done strange things with me.  
I come in just about any color that you’d want to see.
I not only come in just white, as before. 
Now I am purple, yellow, black and more. 

I know that I don’t last very long.
My life each year is short lived, but strong.  
So of my beauty you must partake in a hurry.
I’m usually here after the last snow flurry.

Well I guess it’s time for me to go now.
I’m being moved to a different place.
I think I’m going to a hospital, 
to put a smile on somebody's face.

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

True Norwegian

My mother always told me that I
looked just like my dad.
A true Norwegian was I, all of his
features I had.

I guess I really had no right 
to complain,
except all through school all the kids 
made fun of my last name.

Don't get me wrong, I always liked
my blond hair and green eyes.
I just wish we Vikings were known
for smaller thighs.

My dad always told me that with my
heritage I was stuck.
And that all of the women in our family never
had to worry about having a small butt.

I said to him, “Those are two things that
I never chose.
But I think the thing that bothers me most,
is this dang Norwegian nose.

I even had a friend that once made up 
a song about mine.
He sang it to the tune of a John Lennon song,
and he made each and every word rhyme.

All of my children always thank me for 
giving them knock knees.
But I always tell them they can thank their grandpa, 
not me, for these. .

I guess I really shouldn’t complain . My dad
lived to be 93.
And I guess that’s one of the parts of him that
I hope will be passed down to me.

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

The Pilot From San Diego

(To Greg)

I have a friend who’s been in my life, for such a very long time.
As I remember, 1980 was the year. The ladder of success, I wanted to climb.

I was almost out of college. Through the Travel Agency ads I hunted.
And then I answered the ad in the paper. It said, “Flight Dispatcher Wanted”

With sweaty palms, I drove up the coast. Was greeted by a tall and handsome 
man.
Needless to say I was very nervous, until he reached out and shook my hand.

A man so full of wisdom and knowledge, to that day I had never met.
He had a deep voice that demanded attention. But to me he posed no threat.

He fed me the world of aviation, in tiny chewable bites.
Knowing it would become an addiction, he took my on my first flight.

I worked with this man for over a year, then I had to move away.
I wasn’t quite sure I’d see him again. And then came that wonderful day.

How long had it been since I’d seen him? Twelve years is what comes to mind.
I heard his voice on the radio, from the counter that I stood behind.

I watched him walk away from his jet. Coming closer each moment to me.
I could tell it was him by the way he walked. His face I couldn’t even see.

He still looked the same. Handsome as ever. In his hair was a little bit of gray.
I could see he was tired and needed some sleep, from the long flight he’s taken 
that day.

There is a cliche that all pilots say, “Aviation is such a tiny world”.
And seeing him again that day, brought a smile to the face of this girl.

Since that day we’ve always stayed in touch, I know I will see him again.
Because in him I got not only a boss, but a very, very special friend.

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

Another Year Without You

Christmas and New Year 
are over again.
But just like last year, 
I still feel the pain.

I keep telling myself that 
the loneliness will ease.
But another year goes by 
and the tears do not cease.

For I had it all when you were 
by my side.
Everything was taken away
the day that you died.

I’ve met other people, but 
they’re just not you.
I know it’s not fair,
they haven’t a clue 

Why sometimes when things to my
eyes bring a tear,
They don’t understand.
It just makes them fear

That in my heart they don’t
stand a chance,
That you were my partner
in every day's dance.

Everyone says that
time heals the pain.
But that just makes me wonder
why tears fall like rain

On the fresh fallen snow of
my already frozen heart.
I just wish they’d stop.
I wish healing would start.

But until it does, I’ll continue
to grieve,
until someone comes along and 
my heart can retrieve.

Copyright: December 28, 2005

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

Bastard Child

This poem is written to my “brothers and sister”, and those
terms I use lightly, I must say.
It wasn’t my fault mom ran off with my dad.  That she packed up
and left you that day.

I always felt that you all blamed me, for the day you woke up
and she was gone.
At least you had each other and your dad by your side. 
Not like me.  I was out there alone.

She threw me away also, to anyone who would take me. 
But it was always about you.
Like you didn’t even have a little sister.
I was tossed aside like an old worn out shoe.
 
I guess you never knew about the night I spent,
under a house, on the ground, in the snow.
No, it wasn’t my choice, but it was cold outside,
and I had nowhere else I could go.

I couldn’t wait for the morning to come. To
find some place to go to get warm.
I ended up downtown in a department store lobby, 
just wishing I’d never been born.

There were lots of times I found myself out on the street,
not knowing quite where I should go.
Alone and cold, in need of something to eat.
Where were you then, is what I want to know.

Oh! That’s right! You were all too busy! I forgot!
 You were all so wrapped up in your world.  
How did you go on without giving a thought,
to what was happening to this little girl.

I know that you’ve all been through hell and back too,
I guess we did the best with what we were given.
But I spend a lot of lonely hours wandering if you even
care that,  I too, am still among the living.

To sum it all up, it wasn’t my fault that she was 
a confused mom and wife.
 And, I just want to say, that I did always need you,
And wish you’d been part of my life.


Copyright:  February 15, 2006

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

Dollhouses

Little tiny people living 
in a perfect world.
A little mom and daddy and a
perfect little girl.

Smiles on all their faces, make
you wish that you were them.
All the things you see inside their world make you 
yearn for childhood again.

All the rooms are decorated to perfection, 
there’s nothing in need of repair.
The sofa is the perfect color, and so is
the overstuffed chair.  

Of coarse there in the parlor is
the prettiest fireplace.
The glow of the little logs aflame brings
a smile to each small face.

The pictures all hung so perfectly. The curtains
are crisp and white,
The pillows on the beds all match.
It’s such a pretty sight.

And out the windows of each room is
the perfect scenery.
The beautiful gardens filled with color
and lots of greenery.

I look inside the dollhouse where there
are no bills to pay,
Where there are no worries to wake
up to on each and every day.

Sadness isn't something that any of
them feel.
Sickness never crosses their paths. There
are no wounds to heal.

I love that perfect little world , that someone
made just right.
It makes me want to crawl inside and
settle in for life.

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

Sweet Courtney (For My Granddaughter)

My darling, the light in my life, you are.
You’ll always be to me, my brightest shining star.
My sweet little girl. So intense  are you.
How much I love you, you just haven’t a clue.

You were the first born to my very best friend.
I’ll always be here for you. On me you can depend.
Every time I look at you, I still can see,
the look on Mom and Daddy’s face. You were meant to be!

Such deepness in a child your age,
I can’t say I’ve ever known.
I want to be a part of your life, on every page,
even after you are grown.

I’ll be here for you, the first time your heart breaks.
No matter what the reason. 
Whether it’s some silly boy, that your heart he takes.
Or when you have a losing baseball season.


Everything in your life is important to me,
my beautiful brown eyed girl.
In your life is where I always will be,
until the end of the world.

Details | Cheryl Ann Ross Poem

Why Weren'T You There For Me?

There are questions that I never asked,
but now I need to know.
Like, why you never held me close,
or, why I had to go.

You sent me off to live with folks
that I had never known.
I did not even know where you were.
I felt so all alone.

I lived with those who made me,
call them Dad and Mom.
I knew this wasn't "for real".
I knew this wasn't home.

I never got a letter from you.
The mail was checked each day.
A little heart was broken.
How could you be that way?

Then suddenly I was told,
I had to go back home.
I had hope in my heart.
I'd no longer be alone.

With butterflies in my heart,
alone, I boarded the plane.
And when my feet were back on the ground,
I heard someone call my name.

But when I turned around,
with teardrops in my eyes,
I knew things weren't any better.
I had to face more lies.

Again, you were to busy
to take time to see me.
You sent my older brother.
Your face I did not see.

Once again, you didn't care,
to take time out for me.
You were off on vacation, somewhere.
With me you needed to be.

Well, that was just the beginning,
of my new life with Mom and Dad.
The life I had before this
really wasn't all that bad.

Now I wished I could go back
to someone who really cared.
To those other two people
whose life with me they shared.



Copyright:  November 26, 2005