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PuellaGratiae Aug 22
As I trudged home from school one day
A sweet sight met my eyes.
Amidst the dreary clouds of gray
Flew millions
Of butterflies.
On painted, colored wings they fluttered
Delicately, all about,
And even a heart as hard as mine couldn’t have shuttered
Their bright joy
Out.
They frolicked gaily in the breeze
As my wonder-filled eyes watched from below.
Then like a dancing flower from the trees,
One landed softly
On my nose.
Its jewelled eyes gazed into mine
And peered deep into my soul,
And it shook its head sadly when it did find
An empty, aching, armored
Hole.
Its soft wings brushed against my cheek
As glistening water fell down my face.
It gave me a kiss, sweet and meek,
And with its fellows
Flew away.
Now, after heartbreak that pierced me so,
The butterflies’ kind gift remains.
For they opened a door inside my soul
And let me learn
To love again.
Sometimes it's harder to forgive myself than others.
PuellaGratiae Jul 14
Rain falls when
The clouds get heavy. I
Walk with my umbrella, which the wind turned
Inside out. Droplets fall around
My head, and I
Remember when I was a child and got
To play in the puddles. Then I became sick
And cuddled in blankets. Mother puts a hand to
My forehead and smiles at my
Sneeze. I drink hot soup, which warms my stomach.
Now I wetly plod along, and
My soul smiles as I
Recall the rubber ball that I threw
So high it seemed to touch the rainbow that arced down.
PuellaGratiae Aug 21
Silent Nights

Loneliness closed in on her,
Enveloping her
Like a column of blazing fire.
It hovered at her elbow, always near
And ready to pounce
Like a hungry lion.
Sometimes loneliness roared.
Other times, it sneaked up on her
Like a thief in the night,
Hiding in the shadows,
Silently stealing every last jewel of the joy
She possessed.
Poetry is a way to express the deepest feelings that are hard to express otherwise.

— The End —