Hi darlings, below I am going to share a collection of poems I wrote that are sentimental to me, and yet may mean something completely personal to your hearts. I love poetry, I love analyzing poems and I love feeling what a poem helps you to feel. If you want to discuss poems with me, I’d love you to.
From the room next closest to your snoozing self,
A loud sound, sounds itself at the hour of twelfth,
One, two and three,
You haphazardly kick out your knees and successfully landing on your feet,
You slip on a furry sweater even though it’s 70 degrees,
Plip, plop, plip, plop,
You scurry onward half asleep,
Nearing the hearing of the waking you from your quiet dreams,
Finally you look up and see the phone pretending to shake lightly,
Your hand grasps the handle and you hold it up to your somehow chilly left ear,
Hello you say, not hesitating slightly,
On the other end who could it be?
A young man from a shimmering galaxy two light years away,
Looking for contacting the earth, finding your signal, he may?
Or is it a lost monkey happening upon a dropped phone off in the jungle on his way,
Fiddling with buttons and hitting your personal combination today.
It could even be a wide awake family member looking to chat,
Not being able to sleep and found a phone booth with three quarters she decided to pay.
The other end responds,
That was all?
No no, only a time in a blink has passed,
Finishing with, it’s me, remember. Remember.
When was the last? 💖
They reached out their hands,
It was morning time,
The sun was up and shining and the flowers were slowly smiling,
For only a second their touch was felt, but in a second they whirred right by,
A minute turned to 7 hours more and evening began to grow close and true
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
The moon was out now, this time its turn for being there shining,
Something long awaited happened again,
The hands met for the 8th time that day,
Finally, finally, maybe we’ll stay together,
Oh no, again, like a change in morning to night time sunny and stormy weather,
The hands held for barely enough time it felt again like a second,
A minute they had, only a short time by one another, but they were so full of daily prolepsis they had,
Every day remained the same kind of way,
Though each minute was something to hold onto and they may,
Keeping close when they could and when they couldn’t they laid,
Waiting to hold hands for even a moment staying for when. ❤️☁️
Up above our wholesome hearts we through our intrigued eyes see beautiful clouds moving windily freely,
They turn from white and lightly fading in and out behind the cheerful sun to dark and gray and leaving sounds of thunder within sounding a shaking ton,
The sky is always changing, but never straying,
Staying, staying, staying.
That’s the word we hear everywhere, staying,
Not out loud or even read inside,
No we hear it deeply in our hearts and look for it profusely in our lives,
When we we find ourselves moving we often look backwards unhappy with the leaving,
When we let ourselves step away from cloudy haze, we see clarity, scared of its sky full of apparentlys,
Apparently, apparently, that word stands out coherently,
Standing here silent, staring at the inherently,
It’s upsetting to know I enjoyed sunshine when sitting in rain clouds and longed for snowflakes when holding my umbrella.
Or even standing in icy wind only just waiting right by the doors to inside.
Why did I choose to be so okay with the excuse,
I shouldn’t have, yet I don’t wish differently for my loving of skies,
For jumping through the fluffy clouds ahead where we know no bounds,
Is certainly dreaming of what’s not on the grounds,
The clouds are disappearing,
They are always gearing, and appearing,
Gearing onwards and upward and certainly letting God do the steering. 🙂 💖💙💖☁️💖
Oh, how I really want to talk about it,
because I sharply found myself in thought about it,
Continuing to float through the feelings being knit,
Apparently the thought wasn’t thought about sharply enough to burst and split,
That’s a good thing.
You’d say so. Isn’t it?
That need not be rhetorical, only a slight more metaphorical.
The balloon floated by and by it went.
It didn’t need to stop, it was sent.
Going somewhere where it could be itself, floating about and never holding a frown.
It reached its home.
Here it was.
Full of air and full of wear.
Not enough to pop it open,
Though just enough to love it’s heart from inward and what it would share.
I see you there.
I’m here, floating back by.
Will you catch the ballon before it says goodbye?
The balloon floats to the clouds and stays not answering a why.
It’s smiling, that’s the hereby. 🙂 💖💙💖☁️💖🎈💖
Oh sensitive soul one,
Bruised by a passing poke
And knocked down by a hurtful word hastily tossed to being spoke,
It’s in your heart to love riding the beautiful wind,
And it’s in your head to stand against the ocean’s current thicker than thinned,
Yet that doesn’t mean you have to give in,
To any sort of hurtful outsiders within,
It’s up to your strength to stay dreaming when awoke,
And it’s up to your sharing of love to stay forgiving when caught in their scouring smoke,
That’s sweet to be that way,
Don’t ever give your individuality away,
Let your sweet emotions stay.
You’re beautiful that way. 🙂 💖☁️💖🎀💖☁️💖☁️💖
I can’t wait to share more poems with you. I think these 5 make a sweet collection that help the feelings in my heart come together a little more than a tad, which is making me so very glad.
Molly Marie ❤