Out on the fringes of a difficult life,
she's hiding from darkness,
& sheathing a knife,
she plays us along,
with a lonely old fife,
through the years an years of unspeakable strife,
she walks on alone,
a long searching wife,
She's a bit different,
from the accepted,
of the current "social norm"
a strong & bending tree,
in a devastating storm,
she will never ever break,
& no,
she'll not conform,
She waits for days of nice & long in sunny warm,
though she's not been the one that you,
can truly ever warn,
& it's been this way since long before that girl was born,
Her hands outstretched,
she's waiting for the gifts to come to her,
as locust's come again to swarm,
down she is digging,
she's digging up this very special corm,
An ancient vow to which she's secretly been sworn,
in secrecy she takes the pain,
a native crown she that she'll still adorn,
as they are pushing very deep,
& old and hateful piercing thorn,
She falls down on her knees again,
in every death to cry and mourn,
she raises empty hopeful hands,
till again she hears that gypsy horn,
She rides & yips,
though she's hard outside,
her sleeve of hearts is always worn,
in these days of pain
and endless rain,
She cries her yips,
she still always feels the scorn,
she's been apart,
because that heart's been ripped & torn,
she's just like a sheep who's wools been shorn,
That truth,
her truth,
it is her own,
bend don't break,
is what she's shown,
be so strong,
a true & sturdy bone,
Just like her Dad,
even when times are pretty bad,
it's the only way she's ever,
really known,
As she leans in with a hungry groan,
you never hear her whine & moan,
she knows she'll never walk alone,
her body here is on a loan,
Some skills for her she's yet to hone,
on heady winds again she's blown,
never broken,
again she's flown,
in an ancient plight again she's thrown,
Like every tiny seed she's ever sown,
when she's dead then she'll lie prone,
she will only bow,
before a worthy throne,
a marker for her death,
a lovely granite Bethel stone,
Just look above a starry dome,
shining bright a distant chrome,
nomadic feet will always roam,
she waits again in twilight gloam,
with praying hands she hears the ohm,
Peace out there somewhere,
a love strong home,
setting roots in her earthy loam,
Where she can be so high and deep,
but the cost to her is very steep,
a hope again the lost can reap,
say you must just take a leap,
but even when she tries to sleep,
pray her soul that you will keep,
she'll never ever say a peep,
when enemies come so near and creep,
scaring her,
they think she weep,
"But I am wolf,
and not just sheep"
Can't lay the dead in empty heap,
inject a vein then let it seep,
Tell her no and give her fuel,
so stubborn like a foolish mule,
her heart is like a precious jewel,
and ready for a worthy duel,
Howling out at a brilliant waning moon,
& snarling with her sharpened ugly teeth,
bays what you sow, so you shall reap,
she still stands firm in her belief,
She'll go the way that she knows is right,
to direct you in a distant fight,
a leader bringing in a little light,
hearing all a poet's plight,
as her heart it just...takes off,
IGNIGHTS
off again
another fateful flight,
dreaming off again in night,
blinded by the stars her sight,
is
g o n e....
again,
I know that she will find a way,
her heart will never really stray,
late at night,
with her to lay,
to be with her when come what may,
It ain't a game she wants to play,
when skies ahead are scary grey,
down any kind of which of way,
listen close her lonely bay,
She's got your ever loyal back,
from an angry hungry new attack,
you prepared for her a lovely snack,
keeps 'em off as the angry hack,
angry for what they seem to lack,
nightly reading,
still slipping through the daily cracks,
wonder who's picking up the extra slack,
but some think maybe she's a silly quack,
but don't you give her any flack,
Do you even hear me jack?
Nothing is just white or black,
to be a part a truly faithful pack,
a way to always keep on a steady track,
When things sometimes are in a confusing murky haze,
like living in a dreamy daze,
a wild wonderland of crazy craze,
just look into her careful looking gaze,
a busted potters shiny glaze,
your heart will gladly set ablaze,
on blood & bones again she'll graze,
It maybe just another phase,
I hope that we can change our ways,
so the ones ahead of us
are yet to be,
the BEST of all our earthly days,
So please live your life from a place of gratitude. *** - VERMONT
Cherie Nolan © 2016
I said in poetry earlier this year that I'm not sick and I didn't really think I was but I had a bad feeling that I might be more sick than I thought. Although I've had my battles with depression and anxiety this is a physical battle. I was right though not sure how to right exactly yet and might be a little while. I'm OK though...so far. My family has kind of rallied and we were kind of distant so that's a beautiful thing. But someone I loved very much deserted me because they didn't believe me. I wrote this around Thanksgiving I do think it's about death and dying but it's also about how I see the world? What do you think it's about? Because at the time I was feeling sick but wasn't admitting how sick maybe? Also sorry if I'm away but now you know the reason... some of it anyway. Even amidst death and dying everywhere we are stronger than we think we are. Thank you as always for your kindness.
Much love ❤❤❤ - Vermont