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barbara-swan
American I love to write, mostly poetry, but I do keep journals of the important events in my life..I'm not adverse to criticism, but I mostly write for my own enjoyment and love to share my work with others
CLOUDS Pillows of serenity, a wondrous sight For all to see Silken spun like Angel hair, floating Softly in the air The birds that soar with wings alone Have something we have never known The peace, the feeling of being free Oh God, it’s You for all to see Now why can’t we, ever understand, The mystery of God’s given plan I stop; I try, to no avail, but His Majesty will never fail
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Clouds
CAMILLE “She is So cute” we are told constantly and oh how we love it, her Poppy and me She’s our little “Camookie” smart as a whip With her fingers a-snapping, or hands on her hips We never had figured, just a few years ago, That this sweet little girl, AKA “Dynamo” Would come into our lives to spread joy and beguile And capture our hearts with her “Monkey Face” smile Now she is three, a most innocent time, Her problems are Huge “It’s not yours, it is MINE” Her Mommy’s her rock, and her Daddy is wrapped So serene her small world, until time for a nap Right now she is young, but there will come a day She will read this and know, we are not far away I wrote this short poem for the future, you see To tell her we love her – her Poppy and me
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
Camille
JOY What is joy? Joy is walking in the soft morning mist looking for the sun Joy is seeing love in the eyes of the one you care for Joy is the rapture of small children walking hand in hand Joy is the white clouds drifting across an endless sky Joy is finding happiness just when your spirits were so low Joy is the sound of a melody made by beautiful instruments Joy is the bountiful harvest sown by your own hands Joy is the moon glowing full on an onyx background Joy is the knowledge gained by opening your mind Joy is all of these things and more Joy is living, Joy is dying, Joy is!
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
JOY
Ribbons and bows and tickle toes That’s what a young daughter means A ride on a swing, a flower she brings A daisy, a clover, a rose And the years how they fly And we ask ourselves why This daughter is so un-aligned She’s happy, she’s sad She’s good and she’s bad At times we think she’s lost her mind Then the teen years appear Its’ loud music we hear, a shout, “Did anyone call?” Lets go to the movies, do something groovy Have a party or go to the mall So ah, now she’s grown Her time is her own She’s left in the physical way But she’s not really gone Cause’ when she comes home We hear: “Gotta do laundry, ok?”
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
A Daughter
A newborn to a novice Mom, such a burden all at once, so much to do, the day is gone too soon – a crying bundle makes the night so long But it is such a joy! The changes in life are so unreal, schedules can never be the same, but soon a balance will appear, life will be normal once again, Almost! As years fly by, the bundle grows, the diapers gone now, outgrown clothes, tonsils out, braces in, “why can’t I go” a familiar sound! And all too soon that little bundle of joy is ready to face the world. We hope that we have done a good job, and we try not to hold them too tight to us, we must let go! The time has come to let them fly, that tiny hand that clung to you has grown and holds another now. Don’t cry Mom, don’t be sad, it’s all been worth it, and maybe soon, another small bundle will enter your life, and ah, who is the novice now??
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
The Novice
It is late, I should be asleep, but thoughts go swirling in my head The day has been busy, work is done now, why can’t I relax? Work done, not really! Never a time with nothing to do, Relax is an unknown scenario, feet up, head back,  No Way! Even if it could be, my clock would make me stand at attention Guilty for the laziness running through my bones Oh well, as long as there is a purpose for living, work will be there So as I lie in my comfortable bed, let the busyness swirl, finally to sleep Tomorrow is here
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
Insominia
Ocean waves are like hope, expectations of life Hope, rushing to the shore with wild abandon towards unknown obstacles Then gently pulling back as if unsure of what else lies ahead. Sometimes hopes are shattered like the millions of shells that come tumbling to shore with the tide, but even at that, dreams spring from lost hope, just as the shells turn to grains of sand. So all is not lost, time is the key to unlock the door, and let the waves wash away any doubts and make us stronger to face the next tide.
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
Ocean Waves
Unsettled, unsure, am I alone as I battle against my insecurities? Does everyone Have these doubts as they live out their lives? Why do I feel like I’m clinging to a precipice my fingers losing their tight grip, why can’t I be content, to be happy, not always waiting for that other shoe to drop? I know I have much to offer, I’ve been told~ The secret must be to accept my own faults, for I am the best one to judge them, and thus done, it will be easier to wrap my invisible arms around my own spirit I AM worthwhile, I am content, I am ME~
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
Me
Shadows dance across the mountainside, elusive as always, moving oh so slowly. White clouds billowing with the promise of rain, rays of sunlight stream through the leafy branches The forest is alive with sounds of creatures’ unseen; if one takes time to awaken his senses, this beauty can lighten the darkest of souls. If we could view these wonders through artistic eyes, it would be easy to smell the fresh dew, taste the first raindrop, and touch the soft petal of the rose that is growing in our path
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
The Forest
WHO AM I? Who am I? Why am I here? Should I question? Maybe I am a harp in the symphony of life What is a harp? Does it not make beautiful noise? Who is the Maestro? Who leads my song?
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
Who Am I?