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Best Poems Written by Vickie Hurtt - Thayer

Below are the all-time best Vickie Hurtt - Thayer poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

I Hear Angela's Song

Beneath the darkness of heavy hearts,
Tears from nowhere weigh me down,

But I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Merry men,
Laughing tongues wagging,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Lost memories rush in like tides,
Hands throw roses,

Landing like stones above the ground,
What a mighty sound,

Beyond the dark into the light,
I hear a mighty sound,

Scaring the moon, stars turn off their lights,
And I hear a sound,

Tomorrow appears with a glorious sun,
Mourning is over,

Night has fallen behind my shoulders,
And I hear a sound,

Children are born and some will marry,
I hear a mighty sound,

Clouds carry my burdens while songs fill the air,
Rains quench my thirst with every captured tear,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

I can't see you from here,
In the morning's light I have slipped away,

But I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Inside your pain something remains,
A mighty sound, A mighty sound,

I hear shadows fall,
The sea turning black and days turning pale,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Blood on my tongue as I kiss death,
I hear everything you say,

I feel your pain,
Your tears heavy and wet,

I can't see,
But I hear a sound,

Inside my heart,
There, 
With my last breath,

You'll hear a sound,
It's God's Almighty Sound.

~Vickie Thayer~

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

Falling Down the Rabbit Hole

she tricked him,
she baited her,
her soft steps,
leaving no trail,

when she ran off,
the only thing they saw,
was her,
fuzzy bunny tail,

her intentions were hidden,
a clever disguise,
masked beneath,
her evil human eyes,

she was determined,
to take them all,
the big ones,
but especially the small,

after all, who could argue,
when the bunny wiggled her nose,
a carrot for them,
hidden beneath her clothes,

mesmerized and unaware,
sisters and brothers,
she didn't care,
all caught in her bunny lair,

her cute disguise,
surrounded her designs,
spoiling them,
she hid maggots and flies,

hopping away,
claiming no such tale,
the bunny thinks,
she covered her trail,

but children grow up,
no longer believing,
in fairy tales so ugly,
or a sister so deceiving.


(Vickie Thayer Poetess 2018)

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

A Love We Lost and Found

He Sat On His Favorite Bench,
In Their Favorite Park,
Cracked And Crumbled,
His Eyebrows Knitted Together,
He Leered, 

Sadness Clouded His Features,
He Drew His Lower Lip Between His Teeth,
From Memories,
His Thoughts Clouded,
Fighting Back Broken Tears,

An Old Woman Appeared,
She Gave Him A Dirty Look,
Her Nose Stuck In The Air,
She Sat Down On His Claimed Bench,
He Scrutinized As She Peered.

Suddenly,
Recognition Dawned On Their Faces,
Her Mouth Curved Into A Smile,
His Eyes Glistened,
Beneath His Almost Tears,

They Were So Much Older Now,
Unrecognizable At First,
But A Love Lost,
Had Prevailed,
And Was Found,
After So Many Years.


~Vickie Thayer~

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

Please Don'T Judge Me

A short little guy,
walks by,
"please don't mind me,"
he wobbles.

His shadowed face it asks,
"is it five o'clock already?"
He hasn't had a meal,
his belly rumbles.

He sits outside the local market,
waving at each passing patron,
how busy they are,
ignoring his kind gestures.

His kindness is mistook,
with leers of suspicions,
just a little man,
in a big world, so pressured.

A lost soul,
who once had it all,
homeless,
people set his measure.

A hobo, 
he's defined, 
by his, 
unfortunate life.

Is he,
only thoughts to you,
as bread is,
to taste the knife?

Do you believe,
that all is well,
in his world,
because he has survived?

A kind gesture, 
would mean so much,
he's begging for,
acceptance from passersby.

Condemned and broken,
like the cracked bricks,
where he seeks, 
warmth for the night.

Just a little man,
holding onto,
a simple gesture,
to stay connected with life.

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

Children Shouldn'T Ever Die

This poem is a metaphor about child abusers and abuse, bullying, and suicide.




The buzzards picked my bones apart,
the only thing left was my bleeding heart.

They buried me deep then dug me up ,
I guess I wasn't dead enough.

They buried me again and left me to be,
in pain I was left whilst my heart still bleeds.

I only wanted to be just me,
but the buzzards wouldn't let it be.

They gathered around to pick my bones,
I pleaded with God to take me home.

He scooped me up and made me whole,
and gave me wings as white as snow.

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

Sailing

he longed to sail away,

from all his broken dreams, 

even If, 

his sailing was done,

In muddy puddles and streams.

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

Opposites Attract

I love books that have no end,
truth that is hard to bend,
letters I forgot to send,
and reading them again,

unmade beds that invite,
stories I need to write,
eating ice cream with contrite,
knowing wrong is sometimes right,

I love grass that needs mowed,
a garden that feeds my soul,
boots that kick my toes,
boats I never row,

bridges that go nowhere,
the triple dog I dared,
knowing my love was fair,
falling up the stairs,


I love price that's worth the cost,
my mind that I found lost,
tomatoes that never rot,
the demons that I fought,

never having enough on my plate,
hearing words you can't say,
leaving when I was told to stay,
being the keeper of my own fate.

~Vickie Thayer~

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Black Eyed Susan Loves April

Below deep snow snug and cozy,

Waiting for winters final bow,

Miss black eyed susan,

Pokes thru nosey,

Her face to love kowtows, 

I Rescue her from the nights chill,

Her beauty will not be still,

In my vase,

On display, 

She sheds a single tear, 

A cry of thanks and not of fear,

"I love you Susan",

She knows this girl is sincere.

~Vickie Thayer~

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

A Visit From Karma

Life has a funny way of smacking you,
not that I'm laughing,
at the sting of redness, 
left on my other cheek.

It is said that karma is,
a word they call a sarcastic woman,
the word that rhymes with,
and almost has the same meaning as witch.

I have waited for karma,
and all her craftiness,
she seems to be taking her good old time,
she is after all, 
always threatening to come around.

Maybe it would be better,
if I stopped wishing,
and just realized, 
it's not beyond the realms of possibilities,

That karma has already done her job,
been paid,
and is now on a sabbatical,
I think my red cheek has healed.


~Vickie Thayer~Poetry To Ponder~
                   2017

Details | Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poem

Thorns In My Side

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stroll through,
my garden,
early,
when morning dew,
still clings,
to my roses,
with my rested mind,
and full heart,
I see their beauty,
more clearly,
to give thanks,
to almighty God,
It's a simple duty,
without you,
by my side,
strolling alone,
in the moonlight,
it seems,
my morning roses, 
doth cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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