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Lorraine Colon May 2022
Take a moment and listen to the birds
Broadcasting their gossip in warbled words:
Shrill are their cries when danger's lurking near,
But soft and sweet when they've nothing to fear

Every creature, no matter its station,
Has its method of communication;
With awe I observe their ability
To make known their thoughts with facility  

But is mankind not especially blest
With the volume of words at our behest?
If there's a message we wish to convey
We need only choose from our word bouquet

How fortunate to have at our command
Such power to make others understand
The pain we feel when Life thrusts its cruel spears,
And the night finds us overwhelmed by tears

Or the joy when Love spreads its golden  wings
And shelters our hearts from Earth's loathsome things;
So if you're glad or sad, let the world know it --
You've mastered the skill . . . you're a poet!
Lorraine Colon May 2022
How I dread these intruders of the night ---
The restless ghosts of Love's extinguished light;
Knowing I'm alone (by Fate's cruel decree)
Here come the memories of you and me . . .

They start taunting me when no one's around --
Those lonely hours when by anguish I'm bound;
But is that not the task of memories --
To torture the mind and create unease?

They take delight in breaking down the door
To a painful past I'd rather ignore,
Reviving blissful hours of fantasy,
Like that summer night you whispered to me:

"I'll lay a blanket on the starlit sea,
And we'll drift away . . . just you and me."
Such ill-fated dreams, dressed in joyous disguise --
So hard to recall without tear-filled eyes

Most times these memories come without warning . . .
But time enough for tears in the morning.
It's time to sleep, so I'll turn out the light.
(Knowing my luck I'll dream of you tonight)

And tomorrow there'll be clouds to chase away
As I struggle to make it through the day.
How I wish Time would purge my memory . . .
Erasing all traces of you and me
Lorraine Colon May 2022
How endearingly the flowers are held
In the arms of the nurturing soil;
Yet I'm condemned to walk without Love,
Wearied and spent by this hopeless toil

Confined behind bars of loneliness
I observe Love running wild and free;
What crime could warrant such punishment?
Even Hell knows no such agony

As the newborn babe that cannot speak
Cries out helplessly for what it needs,
So I cry for a harvest not granted,
. . . I cry for the unplanted seeds

And will Love's words remain unspoken?
Now the waves of Terror rise and fall!
Shall my heart stay an idle harbor . . .
Unworthy to be Love's port of call?
Lorraine Colon May 2022
Live for today, just ignore tomorrow.
Why worry what the future may bring?
Nor dwell on a past that harbors sorrow.
For this day alone let the bells ring

While the hummingbird's feasting on nectar,
She's not concerned about foolish things ---
Tomorrow's plights don't seem to affect her
As she savors the gifts this day brings

So for every pleasure life sends your way,
Ring the bells and declare to the world
Those joyous moments that brightened your day.
(Who knows when Fate's wrath might be unfurled!)

And when Fate comes to sate its dark desire,
Grasp Fortitude's lyre and gently strum,
For while the dove sings with the sylvan choir,
Misery draws near, beating its drum

But mute that drum with hymns of gratitude ---
(Does the sun not always vanquish night?)
Tally the blessings this day has accrued . . .
Then let the bells ring with wild delight!
Lorraine Colon Apr 2022
Such loneliness permeates my days,
No one seems to notice I exist;
I'm as transparent as the sun's first rays
Intermingling with the morning mist

I'm as obscure as a grain of sand
Clinging to the ocean's lonely shore;
Should a wild wind fling me to some strange land,
Who would notice that I'm here no more?

Has my frame decayed and turned to dust
And my restless spirit unaware
That I'm just a ghost tumbling in a gust
Of the pitiful wind of despair?

Too long I've haunted this lonely sphere
Where it seems no one's aware of me;
Let there be a soft whispering in my ear:
"Claim your peace, dear soul, you've been set free"

And how eager I'd be to depart
From this cruel world I've come to deplore!
Yet, if love would lay its hands on my heart . . .
I'd consider staying a few years more
Lorraine Colon Apr 2022
A poor wingless bee in dire torment
Sat brooding beneath the lemon bower:
"How shall I ever know the rose's scent,
And sample the sweet nectar of her flower?"

"And what value do you place on these?"
Asked a wise old bee perched on a stone;
Suddenly there appeared a swarm of bees,
Eager to hear the wisdom of the drone

Cried the wingless bee: "My days are drear,
Longing for the rose's scented dew;
Without wings how can I hope to draw near?
How I thirst for her . . . if only she knew!"

"Climb, my lad," advised the wise old bee.
"Brave the stinging thorns and twisted vine.
Only through courage and tenacity
Will you savor the bliss of her sweet wine"

O, what angst now stirred within the bee
As he scaled that stem toward the sublime!
But what delicious hospitality
Awaited him . . . because he dared to climb!
Lorraine Colon Apr 2022
I put my mind at ease,
     banishing all things vile,
What good are memories
     that don't inspire a smile?

But now and then my heart
     forgets to lock the door,
And when the portals part,
     he's standing there once more

Of course, I can't deny
     him entry --- I'm too weak,
And yes, I know I'll cry
     with every lie he'll speak

It seems I never learned
     to let go of his hand,
Not all bridges were burned,
      love's flame might yet be fanned

O, foolish heart of mine,
     the truth is plain to see:
When love makes one resign
      itself to misery,
And every sleepless night
      is caused by love's deceit,
Can you ignore the Light
      of Truth there at your feet?

The time is long past due
      to set his memory free,
Let love's promise renew,
      let all sad feelings flee

Prepare the burial shroud,
      ensure the grave is deep,
Grieve one last time aloud . . .
     Now let the demons sleep!
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