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Juliet Kuchta Poem
An Aurochs from Box travelled far and near to find someone dear.
Finally, he met Sue—a pretty cow who lived in a shoe.
With all his might he let out a bellow
And filled the valley with an echo:
"Ready to go steady?"
Copyright © Juliet Kuchta | Year Posted 2020
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Juliet Kuchta Poem
In the depths of this mind
A fruit in decay.
Alone and forgotten
The child,
Shamed and in dismay.
Love and pain intertwined
Memories hidden—not rotten.
Abandoned by fate
Nurtured by hate.
Love is the fiend
In the depths of this mind
Hope has departed
Pain is kind—
A playground for the angry hearted.
In the depths of this mind
Herein lives despair next to desire,
Anxiety defeats amity
And over and over again—
Atrocity wins over sanity.
Copyright © Juliet Kuchta | Year Posted 2020
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Juliet Kuchta Poem
A photo of Mummy and me.
That's how Christmas used to be
Memories fill me with glee.
On a beautiful, crispy winter's day
We’d found our Christmas tree
In midst of woods—on a carpet of snow.
There it was
All on its own.
A perfect tree for Mummy and me,
So we rushed it home through the falling snow.
And behind closed doors—where it was warm inside,
Our Christmas tree stood tall and wide.
In our humble home,
Filled with happiness and pride;
Our Christmas tree with golden glitter and tinsel spray.
I’ll never forget that wonderful day;
As we danced around our Christmas tree.
It was a perfect tree for Mummy and me!
Copyright © Juliet Kuchta | Year Posted 2020
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Juliet Kuchta Poem
Watch the birds fly—hear them sing.
Ever wonder...
Who’s been born—for whom did life just begin.
Look up at the blue sky and the sun.
Ever wonder...
Who is happy—who’s having fun?
Listen... listen to the sound of the rain.
Ever wonder...
Who’s being hurt—who’s crying again.
Feel the wind and the force of the hurricane.
Ever wonder...
Who’s being punished—who’s going through the eye of pain.
Feel the tremors and see the destruction of the earthquake.
Ever wonder...
Who’s been hit—who won’t awake.
See years and years with no rain, countries stranded by drought.
Ever wonder...
Why do some have all, and, some go without?
Hear, see, feel fear and hate; each day more shooting, more fighting—the pressure's tightening.
Ever wonder...
Whether the price for peace is what makes doves cry,
And if living a lie is less frightening than living to die?
Copyright © Juliet Kuchta | Year Posted 2020
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