Dancing with my ghosts, on a midnight summer’s eve
A cacophony of determined footsteps
Mirrors the melody played
On the last night I spoke my piece

A candlelight vigil for time wasted
Buried is the boy, who once lived inside my waking dreams
Now bereaved, the man forgets all the boy has seen
Trapped inside of photo albums, in an attempt to resuscitate fading memories

for those who think the stars burn out
it's not true
some stars go on and on
giving birth to new stars
in a never ending
cycle of eternity
our sun
will burn grow expand
become a giant red planet
burning our atmosphere
to empty itself of gold
to those deserving
in this evergrowing
always knowing
Uni force

Side by side
Yet miles apart
Misunderstanding
A broken heart

One tired, One awake
One oblivious to
The other’s hurt feelings
Their point of view

When the sun rises
Both will pretend
Nothing has happened
Nothing to mend

This way a small rip
Can become a large tear
If no party takes
The time to repair

This is a story
All about
How important it is
To let feelings out

It’s dangerous to hold them in
But where to start?
Where to begin?

There once was a girl
Who loved to write
All of the day
And all of the night

She’d pen observations
Her feelings and fears
Poetry, stories
Paper up to her ears

These thoughts weren’t for others
Just for herself
Her private emotions
For her own bookshelf

One day an invader
Snuck in to read
Her private thoughts
What a ***** deed?!

When the girl discovered
Her privacy breached
She vowed never again
To put herself on a sheet

She’d hold things inside
Keep them in her own brain
Where no one could read them
See her joy or her pain

She promised herself
She’d take time to reflect
Not writing stuff down
Wouldn’t have an effect...

But slowly she found
She had less and less time
To acknowledge her thoughts
To stop, think and refine

Her ideas became jumbled
Squished inside of her head
With no way to release them
She was confused instead

Life became busy
And years passed real quick
Sadness overcame her
And she became sick

Then a teacher encouraged
Her to write feelings down
Remembering she once did
Brought on a frown

But she built up the courage
And decided to try
Her teacher promised
No one would pry

Slowly she began
To write things again
And feeling flowed
From the end of her pen

Her mood was lifted
A sentence at a time
It felt tremendous
Wonderful, sublime!

She promised herself
Right there and then
Never would she stop
Using paper and pen

To let out her feelings
It was her release
The way to maintain
Her inner peace

So, the moral is
For your own health
Whatever YOUR outlet
Express yourself!

By Amber Heaney 2021 ©

Why can’t I ever seem to write?
As well others do or might?

The wondrous imagery created
By skilful poets, leaves me deflated

Their similes and metaphors
Have me thinking ‘Of course! Of course!’

Why couldn’t I, (didn’t I) think of that?
My brain battery is running flat

Still, I enjoy every poem read
And on that thought, I’m off to bed.

The maple trees turning to amber and bronze,
cool, brisk winds running through my hair;
Skies of blue changing to purple and gold,
as Autumn brings us her loving care.

Summer is gone now--we can't go back,
to the lazy sounds and warmth of the sea;
Standing near the beach on the eve of Fall,
ocean waves start to crash with ferocity.

Children skip off to school in sweaters,
and can soon see their breath in the air;
Pumpkins grow round and full in the garden,
ripe and ready for this year's County Fair.

Cornstalks emerge, tall and graceful are they,
the new harvest is about to begin;
With its honeyed apples, pears, and walnuts,
filling straw baskets to carry within.

There's never a time when Autumn fails,
its storms bring refreshing rains;
And the moon is golden and frosty at night,
after a crimson sunset of fiery flames.

This transition time between seasons,
is something we can all taste and touch;
It brings with it great hopes for tomorrow,
which we'll welcome and cherish so much.