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Amy Smith Apr 2016
Hi, How are you?
       Good.  And u?
Good.  Just seeing if you were ok.
      I’m great.  I won.  You talked to me first.
Congratulations.  What did you win?
      Huh?
Another trophy… for your ego?  Because you really don’t need one of those
Quickly made, over-priced at someone elses expense for your immediate gratification
You have too many of those trophies already.
Your skeleton closet is already too full….
It won’t even close…
With all the bones falling out everywhere broken and chipped
And then you put those chips on your shoulder
Stacking them higher and higher
Until you are so uneven
Disfigured, almost.
One side pulled down with all that weight, dragging you along,,,,
But you ****** yourself forward, each day, your fresh face to the wind,
Almost like a Dr. Jekkyl and Mr. Hide,
Broken and alone.
Looking for another meaningless trophy
To put in your closet.
Amy Smith Jun 2013
I am not an object
You don’t own me
I am not too be domesticated
You didn’t make me
Try to put me in my place
What place is that
Who told you so
Using your brawn
no brain
I’m smart and wise
Tender as a dove
Stubborn as a bull
Caring
Sweet
Vicious
Amy Smith Jun 2013
Oh woman
How were you made
How did you come to be what you are
Strong, weak, fragile, warrior
Moving on and on
Through this life of labor and love
Bearing all while baring all
At the mercy of force
Your mind is a side show
And a fortress of pain
A place of hope and faith
Forgiveness and revenge
Oh beautiful creature
How you were made
Amy Smith Jun 2013
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.


Edgar Allan Poe
Amy Smith Jun 2013
We two were lovers, the Sea and I;
We plighted our troth ‘neath a summer sky.

And all through the riotous ardent weather
We dreamed, and loved, and rejoiced together.
* *
At times my lover would rage and storm.
I said: ‘No matter, his heart is warm.’

Whatever his humour, I loved his ways,
And so we lived though the golden days.

I know not the manner it came about,
But in the autumn we two fell out.

Yet this I know – ‘twas the fault of the Sea,
And was not my fault, that he changed to me.
* *
I lingered as long as a woman may
To find what her lover will do or say.

But he met my smiles with a sullen frown,
And so I turned to the wooing Town.

Oh, bold was this suitor, and blithe as bold!
His look was as bright as the Sea’s was cold.

As the Sea was sullen, the Town was gay;
He made me forget for a winter day.

For a winter day and a winter night
He laughed my sorrow away from sight.

And yet, in spite of his mirth and cheer,
I knew full well he was insincere.

And when the young buds burst on the tree,
The old love woke in my heart for the Sea.

Pride was forgotten – I knew, I knew,
That the soul of the Sea, like my own, was true.

I heard him calling, and lo! I came,
To find him waiting, for ever the same.

And when he saw me, with murmurs sweet
He ran to meet me, and fell at my feet.

And so again ‘neath the summer sky
We have plighted our troth, the Sea and I.


Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Amy Smith Jun 2013
I told you the winter would go, love,
I told you the winter would go,
That he'd flee in shame when the south wind came,
And you smiled when I told you so.
You said the blustering fellow
Would never yield to a breeze,
That his cold, icy breath had frozen to death
The flowers, the birds, and trees.

And I told you the snow would melt, love,
In the passionate glance o' the sun;
And the leaves o' the trees, and the flowers and bees,
Would come back again, one by one.
That the great, gray clouds would vanish,
And the sky turn tender and blue;
And the sweet birds would sing, and talk of the spring
And, love, it has all come true.

I told you that sorrow would fade, love,
And you would forget half your pain;
That the sweet bird of song would waken ere long,
And sing in your ***** again;
That hope would creep out of the shadows,
And back to its nest in your heart,
And gladness would come, and find its old home,
And that sorrow at length would depart.

I told you that grief seldom killed, love,
Though the heart might seem dead for awhile.
But the world is so bright, and full of warm light
That 'twould waken at length, in its smile.
Ah, love! was I not a true prophet?
There's a sweet happy smile on your face;
Your sadness has flown - the snow-drift is gone,
And the buttercups bloom in its place.


Ella Wheeler Wilcox

— The End —