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Lorraine Colon Feb 2018
How lonely must the night become,
How dark before we are shown the light?
Must it be the starving man's last crumb
That draws God's attention to his plight?

To what degree must the heart break --
'Til it's held by one thin fragile thread?
Can we shout a sleeping God awake?
Dare we go where angels fear to tread!

How many tears must stain the page
Of the distraught poet's saddest verse?
The answer evades the wisest sage,
Could it be God himself laid this curse?

But in vain we question our fate --
Superficial particles are we,
Destined for death, nervously we wait,
Born to suffer - but to what degree?

Is no man worthy of his birth?
From what Source sprang this complexity?
Begging for mercy has little worth,
Not even Death pledges amnesty

Might the darkness get darker still?
Does our suffering bridge eternity?
Is wrath part of God's undying will
To torment us ....... but to what degree?
Lorraine Colon Aug 2023
As clouds disperse along the eastern sky,
A reluctant sun slants its first ray;
No dew-kissed rose summons the thirsting bee,
Cheerless birdsong heralds the new day

How feeble and deficient this sunrise!
Once-resplendent beams now dimly glow,
And the bee, unable to sate his thirst,
To the wind murmurs his tale of woe

Nature's attuned to my pitiful plight --
(Love's absence disrupts life's harmony)
Though prayers prove fruitless, might Fate intercede . . .
Or is solitude my destiny?

What anxiety throbs within this breast!
(Once love and joy were the sole tenants)
Now, as I strain to hear love's distant voice,
Fear and doubt impose their harsh penance

Tendrils of gloom and desolation twist
'Round me tightly like a clinging vine,
Delivering a sense of foreboding --
Fear that love will never more be mine  

True, the future cannot be prophesied,
And so I keep vigil at Hope's gate;
Though doubt and despair mock my foolishness,
I've placed my trust in the hands of Fate
Lorraine Colon Mar 2019
I shiver with the howling winds
That seep through the cracks in the door;
My shawl awaits my trembling shoulders,
But his arms are what I'm praying for

Logs hiss and sputter on the hearth,
Sounding like some demonic choir,
But it's not their empty warmth I seek .....
(As if in protest, the flames leap higher)

The moon gives no encouragement ---
Cold indifference his gilded crown;
While doubt and fear pound upon the door
With such force I fear they'll knock it down

Doubt ..... that my prayer will be answered,
Fear ..... that I will forever yearn
To own the night, with him in my arms,
While we watch our holy fire burn

Longing for him holds me hostage ---
How often I've prayed for release:
If his love was not meant to be mine,
Take this yearning and restore my peace

My heart's a weary battleground
Where hope struggles to crush despair;
How long will Heaven turn a blind eye
To these tears and my unanswered prayer!
Lorraine Colon Mar 2018
Let the wounded bird take wing,
Though dismal may be his fate;
Should he overcome this cruel sting,
His triumph he'll celebrate

Let the willow bend and weep;
Though it appears to be weak,
It would tell you its roots run deep
If it were able to speak

Let the wolf howl to the moon --
He has the right to be heard;
Morning will be here all too soon,
Then enters the singing bird

Let the spider weave her snare,
For this task she was designed;
While her prey, feeling no despair,
Awaits its cruel fate, resigned

Let love and loneliness brawl,
Let die the things that must die;
Release the tears and let them fall,
And let the broken heart cry

Let me love without constraints --
The sinking boat needs no oar;
Do not preach of sinners and saints
With Death's feet so near my door

Let me taste love's sweetest wine,
And let this shattered heart mend;
Having seen my star of love shine,
Then let the curtain descend
Lorraine Colon Aug 2020
How the thirst for love can rack the heart!
"Just a drop will do," it softly screams;
Ah, but what solace could one drop impart
To this torrid wasteland of parched dreams?

My gasping heart is struggling for breath
As panic stirs the dust of despair;
A cry for compassion (a plea for death?)
Leaves my lips as I kneel down in prayer

But prayers do not comfort my distress --
Pleadings turn profane upon my tongue,
Prodding me to silence my loneliness
And trudge on with my sorrows unsung

But my thirsting heart begs to be heard,
And its yearnings I dare not suppress;
(What inspires these rhymes and each dauntless word?
The obscure blessings of loneliness!)

Loneliness and its unsated thirst
Cause thoughts to take flight on tattered wings,
And the rationale of a heart accursed
Results in the worst imaginings

Now the hour's late, soon my sun will set,
Hope is waning like a smoldering fire,
And my thirst for love now provokes regret
For each empty dream and vain desire

My search for love was an ill-fated dream
That drifted on the wings of despair
As Life slowly unveiled its tragic theme ---
And so it found its destiny there
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 Jul 2017
I cannot reach nor touch the stars,
Yet I know they dwell high above,
And though you are far from my reach,
Distance cannot weaken this love;
Your touch is not familiar,
When I speak, you do not hear me,
Yet as I wake to greet each dawn
I feel your spirit so near me;
And I swear by all the stars in the sky,
I will love you until the day I die

Though your love is a distant dream,
What joy to my heart it does bring,
This voice, used for cursing anguish,
Had forgotten that it could sing;
Now sweet melodies venture forth
While my heart writes each loving word,
Though such songs have often been sung,
Love has a voice that must be heard;
And so I'll chant as the moon sails the sky:
I will love you until the day I die

Some may think a spell blinded me
To all others so I'd choose you,
I only know I could not live
If ever I were to lose you;
Look! Eden's gates are opening,
Once again, Paradise revealed;
Shall we dare to trespass those grounds?
Soon the gates will close and be sealed;
Yes! Let us enter when God blinks his eye,
And let us love until the day we die!
Lorraine Colon Jan 2020
They say that Love is but one step from Heaven,
And about Love there is not much else to tell;
But in its absence, our steps are misguided.
How true ...... I've already got one foot in Hell
Lorraine Colon Oct 2017
Is it by Divine grace few pass through life
Eluding pain, with scarce a trace of strife,
While others are slaughtered by Fate's sharp knife?
How the tears fall as misery runs rife!

When the tattered flags of war are unfurled,
With every bullet and bomb that is hurled,
When on battlefields, blood and soil are swirled,
I cry for the wickedness in this world

I feel the woes of each abandoned heart
As the barbs of loneliness sting and smart;
And while Destiny play its chosen part,
Helplessly I watch, and then the tears start

I cry for the pain of each living thing,
The warbler that struggles, but cannot sing,
A queen's bittersweet reign without her king;
And yet, what benefit do such tears bring?

Though vague longings stir when evening is nigh,
We're condemned to sorrow, my heart and I;
Then dread overtakes, and O, how I cry,
Yearning for the love Fate chose to deny

Wasted tears, why do you fall from my eyes?
Just force of habit, I must surmise,
As Life delivers what Hell ratifies . . .
Pain and wasted tears . . . in endless supplies
Lorraine Colon May 2019
Foolish woman, trying to drown her distress,
She ambles down rainy streets alone;
Weary, she grapples with her loneliness,
Poor thing! she'll return drenched to the bone

There are feelings she finds hard to define ----
Walking in the rain helps clear her view;
Soon the proper words and cadence align,
And with verse she'll share her pain with you

Poems are a priceless commodity
That allow sorrow to be dispersed;
And you, loyal patron of her artistry,
Will read words in which you're well rehearsed

Once again, her tears will run down your face,
With closed eyes you will clearly review
All the memories her mind can't erase,
All because her poem spoke to you
I dared not hope to glimpse Heaven
Nor sit on Contentment's throne;
A darkened abyss was my domain
And Love's radiance unknown

There was no cause for dreams to stir
Or my senses to run wild;
The indifferent ebb and flow of Life
Left my weary heart beguiled

I preferred the grave to this fate,
But you rolled away the stone
And drew forth my cold exhausted breath,
Replacing it with your own

Quietly you opened the door
To my heart and entered in;
Your loving words, spoken faint and low
Spread joy where sorrow had been

Like the muted flutter of wings
That guide a bird to its mate
Came the gentle whisperings of Love,
Silencing the voice of Fate

And so this heart, dying in degrees
(Lifeless though it seemed to be)
Bounded with glee when it heard your voice . . .
At last!  Love had called to me!
Lorraine Colon May 2018
How merry is the song that I sing,
How jubilant are the bells that ring,
How do I convey the joy they bring
When my darling speaks his words of love?

Like feathers his words float on the wind,
Bringing such joy, I fear I have sinned;
On this one man all my dreams are pinned,
No greater blessing can I think of

But when he's silent, I want to cry,
When I call and there is no reply,
I can't smile, no matter how I try,
Let him speak! I beg Heaven above

Anxiously I wait while the tears fall
When for days he speaks no words at all,
The thrill of past words  I must recall
Lest I die for want and lack thereof

And then the clouds part and angels sing,
O, what joy his words once again bring,
I would not trade them for anything,
When my darling speaks his words of love!
When a tree waves its green leafy hand,
Most don't notice, but I understand;
The swaying of a flower, the buzz of a bee . . .
That's how my garden beckons to me

The little blades of grass gently nod
As a worm pokes his head through the sod;
Cast blame if you will on my vanity,
But I'm certain he's looking for me

Now the wind wants to join in the game --
Spying a windchime, it takes careful aim;
Soon the air fills with a soft melody,
And I smile, knowing it's playing for me

I watch as the sun sweeps clouds away,
Showing off with such gaudy display;
But I must admit, the sun's victory
Causes the flowers to dance with glee

And I stand in awe amidst this scene
Of peace and beauty.  If I were a Queen
What nobler entitlement could there be
Than these treasures unfurled before me?

A warble suddenly hushes life's din,
And soon more feathered minstrels join in;
But such incidents are no mystery . . .
That's just my garden calling to me
Lorraine Colon Apr 2023
What cruel force keeps lovers apart --
Why must each tread a separate path?
Preordained they should never meet . . .
What arbiter inflicts such wrath?  

Two lives hurled into misery,
Two hearts nailed to the same cross;
Never to savor  love's banquet,
They're condemned to feed off life's dross

Spring faintly smiled on these two hearts
As dreams absorbed their youthful hours;
Although  nurtured like tender plants
They yielded naught but withered flowers

Each new day held a ray of Hope,
Dispelling  impatience and doubt;
They kept watch as the flame burned bright . . .
Till finally, their tears put it out

Two hearts dying slow painful deaths,
Each cloaked in its own crimson shroud;
One heart dies, crying silently,
The other sobs its pain aloud

Two lonely hearts ever dreaming
They might stroll Love's Garden one day;
Now resigned, they no longer dream --
Sadly, on Death's threshold they lay

So come forth and ring the death knell --
Come lay your bouquets at their feet;
Mourn if you will such tragedies
While asking  "Why didn't they meet?"
Lorraine Colon Apr 2019
Why does love keep tormenting us,
Why can't it just leave us alone!
Yet, when it comes calling, how we fuss,
Though its fickle ways are well-known

Love has an inflated ego,
And for that we are all to blame,
For as soon as it calls, off we go,
Darting like a moth to a flame

If we could just ignore love's knock
And batten the door to our heart,
Wouldn't that deliver love a shock!
(This scheme may fail, but it's a start)

We should be strong and just say no
When love's song serenades our ears;
(Although, I tried this once long ago
And found myself knee-deep in tears)

In my wisdom, or lack thereof,
I've found this advice still rings true:
Lay down a mat that says "Welcome, Love,
My door's always open to you!"
Lorraine Colon Oct 2023
As night spreads its ribbons of darkness
Loneliness taps at my window pane,
But too lost in reverie am I
To pay heed to its doleful refrain

Wishful thinking helps me to escape
From the madness of Life's fickle ways;
Though make-believe is a tangled web,
I thrive in its ethereal haze

How sweet the proverbial nectar
That flows from his lips onto mine;
What bliss I derive from a romance
Only my wild impulse could design

I swoon at his expressions of love
Sung and spoken in poetic verse;
(Though at times my heart scoffs at pretense,
Seeing not a  blessing, but a curse)

Yet, when I gaze deep into his eyes
I thrill to see love's reflection there;
He need only take hold of my hand
And together we climb Heaven's stair

O, how painful  are the loveless hours
Of reality I must endure;
In my dreary solitude I find
Wishful thinking holds a strange allure

Ah! but then reality holds sway ---
Once again the snake devours the dove;
But wishful thinking soon restores my peace
With its exquisite mimicry of love!
Lorraine Colon Jul 2017
Who has not pondered their last hour
When Death points to our name on his scroll?
As we slowly wilt like summer's last flower,
What concerns will beleaguer the soul?

Who will be waiting to guide me
Down the hallway, just beyond that door
That allows passage to Eternity?
On gilded wings, will my spirit soar?

What questions will be permitted?
Will my heart discover what it seeks?
Will every fault and error committed
Flash before my eyes like lightning streaks?

Will death be unencumbered sleep,
Final escape from the bonds of Earth?
Or will we recall things that made us weep,
And all the joys that gave life its worth?

Will the flowers of love still bloom?
Though I've never carried the bouquet,
Might I be granted one blossom's perfume,
Or will denial once again hold sway?

Should I be granted one query,
With much angst I must inquire of Death:
This heart that expired alone and weary,
Will it find its peace with my last breath?

But should fragments of life still course
Through this clay, allowing pain to seep,
Then I must implore of the Divine Source:
End this game! grant me eternal sleep
Lorraine Colon Aug 2018
Why was I drawn to that gypsy's tent  
When the carnival came to town?  
"Your fortune for one dollar," she cried,  
Soon she wore my resistance down  

After staring at my hand a while  
She announced with a worried sigh:  
"You're a woman wrapped in loneliness,  
Lonely until the day you die!"  

She tried to offer a kindly smile,  
But I sensed pity and sorrow;  
Did she think I took her seriously?  
No one can foretell tomorrow  

Now I look at that same hand today  
And recall her words -  how they sting!    
This abandoned hand that no one holds,  
My finger, wearing no man's ring

But it was a time of hope and dreams  
When the gypsy first read my palm;  
How did she know, I now ask myself,
Sitting alone in twilight's calm  

Lips that kissed mine uttered promises  
They never intended to keep;  
And a heart that pledged its faithfulness
Sank to deeds that were dark and deep  
  
Just what did the gypsy see that day  
While she sadly gazed at my hand?  
Why did she not tell me all my dreams
Would be built upon shifting sand!

So long ago she read Fate's decree,
Truth I can no longer deny:
I'm a woman wrapped in loneliness,
Lonely ..... until the day I die
You
Lorraine Colon May 2019
You
If you were a bird, I would let you perch
Upon my shoulder, close to my ear;
Your feathery wings would caress my face
As your sweet song blessed the atmosphere

If you were a frog, I'd not seek a prince,
I'd love cradling you in my pocket!
Or, I might wrap you in lace, and then
Wear you close to my heart like a locket

If you were a bee buzzing 'round my head
I would let you nestle in my hair;
Deep in the night your honeyed kisses
Would transcend Heaven's ambrosial air

But it matters not your earthly facade,
You're the one who rules from my heart's throne;
Your seeds of love took root in my heart --
And so, you shall reap the love you've sown

— The End —