On no,
Not another poem
I hope it's not too long
You know how they make me yawn

Oh great,
What's this he's trying to say
You know how his rhyming schemes
Seem to get in the way

Oh man,
Here he goes again
Thinking that he's clever
When he's just hard to understand

Oh shoot,
What am I going to do
If he asks me what I think
When I haven't got a clue

Oh heck,
I hope that this is it
Once this clown gets started
He never knows when to quit

Oh no,
Not another poem
I hope it's not too long
You know how they make me yawn

I am a kind word uttered and repeated
By the voice of Nature;
I am a star fallen from the
Blue tent upon the green carpet.
I am the daughter of the elements
With whom Winter conceived;
To whom Spring gave birth; I was
Reared in the lap of Summer and I
Slept in the bed of Autumn.


At dawn I unite with the breeze
To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds
In bidding the light farewell.


The plains are decorated with
My beautiful colors, and the air
Is scented with my fragrance.


As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I
Awaken I stare at the sun, which is
The only eye of the day.


I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance
To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.


I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.


But I look up high to see only the light,
And never look down to see my shadow.
This is wisdom which man must learn.

Her crinkled eyes show lines of feigned contentment,
Veiling the gritted resignation within.

Every proverbial step taken was always slightly off
So little that it wasn't noticeable at the time,
Though it took her to an unintended destination.
Never understanding why she would exude so much of herself
And never obtain what she wanted.
Going over past steps ad nauseam, wondering where she faltered.
At which point did she start in the wrong direction
How can she get back
Should she even try
When it's unknown if anything will be left
Aside from an abandoned piece of herself
If she were to return.

You can't go backwards in life
But who says you can't circle back?