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Karen Brown Poem
My Quilt--far more than just cloth.
No simple construction of yarns or fibers ;
Still, just material pieces, cut from beautiful fabrics.
But, delicately hand stitched.
Intricately woven with love.
Patiently she took her time ;
With me, kept in mind.
Her lovely patchwork design.
Not luxury, but the softest texture.
And the quality of her structure--superb.
My GrandMother's superior perfection ;
Done with loving affection.
A true work of art--from her heart.
So cozy on chilly nights--
She knew just how -to-do them right.
My Quilt--My Grandma made for me...
In my thoughts, I hold her tight.
The One I cherished, so dear...
She's near, as I pray each night.
My Quilt...for years has comforted me.
At the end of my bed--always displayed.
Over time has become a little frayed.
It still brings me to tears, when I see--
My Quilt...
That my GrandMother made--
Just for me.
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2007
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Karen Brown Poem
They say-Wisdom comes only with age...
When we're young and full of laughter-
We dream about Happily Ever After.
Like we're in a play-on a stage.
Youth is our curtain call...A priceless admission.
Adulthood-no more asking permission.
Mid-life ( no crisis )-it's our intermission.
Suddenly, you've been through it all...
Eventually-the curtain's coming down.
Audience is gone-no one's around.
Has it really been that long ? Can't recall...
What went wrong ? Our fear is strong.
Reflections we try to capture...
Stop to sigh-Begin to cry-our tears for years.
Time has flown by-No need to ask why.
Took so much for granted-Never got what we wanted.
Did we miss the rapture ?
A stop along the way-One fast look-By the way---
It's your book-last page-final chapter...
Sunny days become gray, fun and laughter has gone away.
Everything is filled with a haze. Didn't enjoy Life day by day.
Lonely and all alone--ever amazed.
They say-- Wisdom comes only with age.
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Karen Brown Poem
From out of the shadows-
On dark and dreary nights,
There comes such a bright light...
It's that time-For those who write.
Where, with pen in hand, they ignite !
These Poets, so mad, yet grand--
That only a few, can truly understand.
Ones with heavy woes, somehow, find a spark;
Others with weary hearts, vow to leave a mark.
With so much to do, Time is at hand...
Painting their entire life in words--
Which too often, sadly go unheard.
Matters of the heart, Dreams torn apart;
Becomes so clear, Filled with fear, Loosing their minds.
Shattered souls, unruly and out of control...
Wanting to share their mere lines. T'is it a crime ?
Needing to feel not left out-nor so sublime.
Without a doubt, Seeking Poetic Haven;
Always craving, Much like Poe, and his great Raven.
A Poet's Time--Filled with rhyme.
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Karen Brown Poem
To walk within a Dream...
What does it mean and what do we see ?
Is a Dream, but a reality ?
But, Dreams do come true--
I know this, because of You.
Cause my Dream, is my reality...
I pause for awhile, to rest, to sleep ;
A vision of you, soon begins to creep.
More vivid and so surreal--
Makes me wonder, if it is for real.
The image of you, a beautiful Dream...
My subconscious significance--
Your graceful elegance, so it seems,
Has blocked my view; a captivating realm.
Along with your radiant ambiance.
Can I rationalize this ?
When I realize it's all I wish.
I'd sacrifice everything for just a kiss.
Then there must be more than a distinct possibility ;
It's just my wild imagination or a fantasy ?
Whatever it is, I know what I feel.
But, I'm afraid it is unreal...
Still not sure what this may mean.
Will you try to analyze my Dream ?
As I cry, I see through your eyes and then know why.
May I relish in this reverie---
From this moment throughout Eternity.
Will you come now and walk with me ?
Shall we never wake--as we Walk within a Dream....
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2007
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Karen Brown Poem
While I'm sleeping--
Thoughts come creeping.
Pages From My Mind--ages with time...
Memories left far behind.
Forever, My Immortal love.
Images produced by etches--
Clearly, pictures develop from sketches.
Ideas once seemingly endless;
Impulses leaving me defenseless.
Eternally, keeping me in stitches.
Flashbacks from the past--
The scenes never last;
Our Life passes too fast...
Ashes turn into dust--
Till, there's nothing left of us.
Still, tense and ragin inside--
Angry, hurt and denied.
Wake-up and feelings subside.
This terrible heartache--I hide.
Deep within--these Pages From My Mind...
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Karen Brown Poem
A first class restaurant to dine--
A glass of chilled wine.
A little sassy, but, tastes sweet and fine.
Everything is just divine...
Feeling great--knowing you're mine.
Entwined in a slow dance;
Combined emotions with romance.
Could be a crime--Our Precious Moment in Time.
Poetry in motion--with rhythm and rhyme.
Two that care--with so much to share.
Embraced in loving arms--
Enhanced by beauty and charm.
A kiss, a touch--Dinner by candlelight.
A starry night with moonlight;
Feeling right--anything is possible tonight.
Conquered by defeat--as our hearts skip a beat.
Bound to get swept off our feet;
A dream come true--waltzed out of the blue.
People stare--cause we're floating on air.
Far beyond compare--this Perfect Love Affair...
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Karen Brown Poem
Tears on my pillows--
Rain from my eyes.
Wind in the Willows...
Echoes our last good-bye.
What Heaven will allow, below--
My woes, hearing all your lies;
By and by, tends to make me cry.
Pretending you didn't commit a crime--
But, Mending this broken heart,
Will take quite some time.
Voices whispering from the wine--
Sending chills down my spine.
Ending up, Still, so far apart.
Choices made-weren't mine.
Needing help getting through-
Till I am over you.
Leading down a lonely path--
Pleading, I'll survive the aftermath.
A coward atlast; being yellow;
Again fast, growing mellow--
Knowing once, I was a lucky fellow.
Tears on my pillows--
Rain from my eyes.
Wind in the Willows...
Echoes our last good-bye.
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Karen Brown Poem
A beautiful melody--out of tune
A good compostion--ending too soon.
What fun we had in June.
Now, Imagine the sun without the moon.
See the sky with no stars.
Ask why, I'm left with the scars ?
My task, dream about vacationing on Mars.
A play with no stage
Today, I sure feel my age.
A movie without a plot
For, I loved you alot.
A novel with no storyline
Pretend we're fine, in the end--You're mine.
Our perfect harmony, turned into a Tragedy.
A drama without any scenes
This nightmare awakening me with screams.
Nothing is really what it seems.
Peaceful tranquility to hostility, no longer in unity.
A rhapsody filled with rain.
This Tragedy, will bring me pain.
Copyright © Karen Brown | Year Posted 2006
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