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Best Poems Written by Rebecca Sharp

Below are the all-time best Rebecca Sharp poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Am I Still Blind

there are times - and i don't know why - 
in which i cannot see you. You in all your goodness and sweetness.
i seem to be lost and blind to all the endearing things that i love about you.

i cannot find you. i cannot reach you.
not by voice, not by touch.
it is at these times that i feel the most vulnerable
the most alone, and my world is dark.

please wait for me. please make yourself known.
please stay near - so that i may find you, see you, and love you...again

Details | Rebecca Sharp Poem

Silent Friends

only pen and paper, in them i do confide,
all my innermost, to others i must hide.
pen understands. and laughs not at my pain.
paper lets me cry , without making me ashamed.
all that i could say and feelings expressed,
i cannot audibly, therefore must be suppressed, or
risk the sneer the frown and even ridicule,
the response that would belittle, i found to be so cruel.
pen takes the time to know all my fears and paper never fails
to take in all my tears

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Reason Enough

i can't not touch you.
these hands must feel yours.
these fingers must caress that perfection,which holds up the most beautiful of 
eyes.
these lips must feel the brush from your own, and taste that mouth,from where 
the sweetness felt in your heart is expressed.
i can't not love you.
i can't not desire to be as one with you - for it is there, in that place, that i                 
at last, become loved and lovely.
and that is all and enough, for this one to continue...to live.

Details | Rebecca Sharp Poem

You

your love is slick
and your love is ...pooling,
i cannot help but slip
and
fall.
your heart is a fire
and your heart is... a rock.
i cannot help but hold
and
be burned.
your stare is ice
and your stare is... transparent
i cannot help but read
and
weep.
your love is slick              
and your love is pooling...

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The Fence Builder

brimmed eyes 
squinting against the noon brightness.
gloved hands 
wiping the salty drops away.
denim moving
with the lankiness beneath.
strong lines
rising as the maul swings

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Little Marker

we found your little stone page and just stared.
reading the name over  and over until  it blurred.
you were here and gone in that one time of april
struggling to breathe, but you just weren't able, now
above this plotted spot, you've risen, and we know that 
to be so, yet our gaze is still on your name that is written..

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Small Talk

I have longed for a visitor, to knock upon my door                                                     
and indulge me with stories,
from another shore.
Someone with whom,I may wile away the hours,                                                     
conversing about life...
not just the rain showers

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Heart Fire

the snow is cold and falling.                                                                                                
I am just the same.

there is no heat, there is nothing to warm with.
the fire that was sizzling                                                                                                       
is not  burning anymore.

is this just the beginning of a long frigid winter
is this the end of a summer love
a love that has turned with the seasons.

shall i seek shelter elsewhere
shall i draw up into myself and wait out this storm

i fear that there is not enough heat within me                                                                   
to last through this whole winter.

perhaps i can find again                                                                                                     
a little something 
to kindle me through december.

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Pleadings From the Closet

a portion i beg, of that balm, just a drop placed in my palm,
to rid my soul of the sting ,induced by the pain which living brings.

a crumb i beg, of that bread, just a scrap could be fed,
to rid my soul of the pangs, induced by the hunger for what will sustain.

a sip i beg, of that water, just a taste is all that i'm after,
to rid my soul of the dry, induced by the thirst for what is right.

a touch i beg, of the Christ, just to urge me on to fight,
and rid my soul ,of the fear, that God has forgotten me here

Details | Rebecca Sharp Poem

Jonathan

as you approach upon the midnight sun
perhaps you can recall better days.
and may the cutting winds help you heal
from the 'malicous' love your pen conveyed.
may all the vastness of its land
and bitterness of its cold
touch you warm on the heart and
revive the freedom in your soul.