I get lost in your eyes
A sea of swirling mystery
Deeply embedded in my mind
You’re the anchor of my soul
I get lost in your words
Always a varied array of desire
Infinite wants and needs expressed
You’re the ink that colors my heart
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: Pixabay.com
When I think of you
I think of dances in the rain
Midnight walks and talks
Never a refrain
When I think of you
I think of autumn showers
Sitting at a little café
Talking for hours
When I think of you
I think of smiles under an umbrella
Holding your hand tight
So much I wanna tell ya
And when I think of you
I feel happier when it rains
The tie that binds us
Just cannot be explained
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/walking-in-the-rain-landscape-beauty-1695803/
Time
each of us holds it from birth.
We’re all entrusted with the same daily allowance
but not all know its value
and some seem to forget its worth.
The foolish tend to use it up
leaving all those leftover seconds
to rot on silver platters
squandering hours away
on useless, selfish desires
believing they’ll always have more
never realizing there is a limit.
And yet the wise
and the perceptive
they protect time with their very lives
savoring every last crumb
knowing it is a measured blessing to be cherished.
They realize time is meant to be held in a way,
which embraces even the tiniest bits of joy.
And those who are discerning
understand the merit of its potential.
For time truly is the most valuable gift of all.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/time-machine-old-school-watch-1450051/
Wafts of wintry splendor
roll across my shoes.
Tickling the tip of my nose
anything to amuse.
I giggle at the exchange
between the natural world and me.
Nothing can ever cheer me up
like the earth and all the wonder I see.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/cold-snow-fashion-woman-girl-1284028/
Now the winter shivers
In this barren land.
Near and far the echoes
Without a welcome hand.
Now the winter clamors
As naysayers pave the way.
The vile commence each battle
What more is there to say.
Dimmer than the most atrocious
On the crowning of darkest night.
Sure-footed soldiers march into battle
Prepared for one more fight.
The world lies in anguish
No longer praying for relief.
Smack dab in the pit of sorrow
Buried in inescapable grief.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
The rhyme and meter of this poem, were inspired by the poetic works of Edna St. Vincent Millay, who wrote “Autumn Chant,” which can be found here.
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/kz-kz-dachau-konzentrationslager-2063339/
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