She is the Flower Amongst the Flowers©

Like her fellow kind she is graceful as her petals reach for
the morning sunlight
Soft and gentle in the cool morning breeze she sways
In that moment there is calmness that belies her truth
For she sheds the morning dew drops like the tears of someone
you hold dear
Her long slender neck carries the heavy load which grows
with time and maturity
If she had lips one would need to be cautious for she is
laced with thorns
Thorns that can stab you whether wittingly or unwittingly
and make you bleed
The cuts sharp and piercing and not something to be taken lightly
They will leave you in pain like a heart that has been torn
Her beginning is like most from a small acorn of a seed,
she begins to sprout
Only a glimpse of what she will ultimately become shows
in those early days
But one day her long stem like the legs of a shapely woman
will be firm and supple
Time will pass and she will outgrow many of her family
She will be more popular and hold a special place
When selected for meaning in people’s lives
Like the moods of a woman her colors are varied
And carry with them the potential for an array of emotions
The deepness of meaning representing the well of life
Sometimes half full and sometimes half empty,
but always refreshing
Each color part of a spectrum and the bounty
of feelings it can bring
The folds of her blossom are complicated and intricate yet delicate
From a distance she stands out to your eye,
her beauty catching your breath
Her shapeliness recognizable on sight like a familiar friend,
relative or lover
She is the flower amongst flowers
She is the rose

Andreas Simic©

Poet Don’t Show It©

As I sit here and ponder what to write

I suffer every poet’s plight

What to put in it that may bypass a cynic

Will it pass the test of time or be it a rhyme

Is it about a crime or will someone even pay a dime

How will I tell it if I can’t even spell it

It won’t be shock if I get writer’s block

Once more it would lead to things being hocked

How will I blend smarts and wit in it

With critics abound ready to pounce a limerick

When I made this a career choice

I knew then that I wouldn’t be driving a Rolls Royce

My Father would often say

Are you getting a real job that will pay

But Mom would often defend me and herself relay

Let the boy play he will make it some day

So now I sit here with a dry piece of bread

Trying to forestall the dread, what if they’re right I plead

Just then and there it came to mine head

It’s time for bed, don’t let this spread

Enough said

Andreas Simic©

Love’s Fatality©

Love is a fickle partner

One moment it is deep like the color of a red rose
The next it is melancholy like a faded yellow lily

For the slightest interpretation of the mind
Can render it to be trivial almost useless

Inevitably time will find fissures in the walls of life
These become cracks that cannot be mended

Good intentions are mere bandages to a wound
That will not close

Slowly but surely like the wilting of a flower
The inevitable occurs

Best to remove any ill will afore it spreads
Like a cancer run amok

To call a ***** a *****
Before the pain becomes too great

Love lost is better than none found
This is the plague that follows us all

Andreas Simic©

The Dreamers©

I think oft  what it would be like to be one of them

To look at the world through rose colored glasses

Where the world is perfect according to my childhood dreams

In that dream I would be a pilot, handsome and tall
A world traveler to boot

I would be married to the girl next door
The vivacious blonde with that voluptuous figure

Somehow as if by magic I would be rich as well as famous

My model looks would have me featured in a magazine

This would be a follow up to my bestselling book which is
Now being turned into the greatest movie of all time

The movie is a documentary about my days as a rock star

It would highlight my younger years
As a pro athlete and renowned artist extraordinaire

The captivating television interview for my hit movie
Held at my countryside estate overlooking the ocean
It is prominently featured in Homes & Gardens magazine

Having won the lottery my days are filled with
Time to spend with family and friends at will
Or inventing the greatest next best thing

My ideal children seemingly raise themselves
To become childhood prodigies

When I come back to reality in my modest home
Readying myself to go to my everyday job
And writing poetry waiting to be discovered

I wonder “Is this as good as it gets”

Andreas Simic©

The Masquerade©

He thought it was just a game well played
Sitting here in the grass and shade

He never wanted to hurt anyone
Didn’t she know he was the kind who would run

They held hands and he saw her swoon
This was the maid normally holding a broom

He told tales of wealth and stature
As though it was rapture

In this tale of lore
He was the hero for sure

A man with oh so many talents
An estate no less on balance

He was the pride of the British side
A lie he well knew deep inside

A gentleman due for a great inheritance
Gathered here for her pretence

His tongue spoke of proper education
Not the poverty of his preoccupation

Of course he was a great success in business
For a man for a who was utterly clueless

Oh so many lies
Just so he could lie beside her looking into her eyes

It wasn’t as though they would be wed
This was just a ploy to see her to his bed

Andreas Simic©

Mind Games 1001©
Silhouettes here shadows there they could be anywhere
At home I check everywhere with a thorough sweep
On the road like this motel, I make sure that they can’t peep
Always look out the window before you leave they can deceive
When driving check mirrors often it might be a tail and
they could be on your trail
A disposable cell phone is a must or use a public one just
don’t let them hear you, they might be near you
Move often from city to city they can be witty
and they are not beyond sending someone pretty
She might say they are here to protect the nation
in a conversation, like she’s as good as her word
Never trust anyone including a neighbor
even if they say they are a savior
When submitting to WikiLeaks be anonymous
for it is your identity that they seeks
When the occasion arises you may need
to wear disguises, a wig, hair dye, no less
you may resort to wearing a dress
The car you drive you should never own
a rental is safer in a different time zone
CIA, FBI, NSA, Homeland security
anyone of those it could be
My name is paranoid but you
can call me delusional or
Bob which is not that unusual

Andreas Simic©

My Little Queen©

I’m not her father, but she is my daughter
I knew her when she was young,
A small girl with a twirl

Time went on we moved to the coast with the most,
My bride and I as we said goodbye

One day a bus arrived with this little princess fresh
From a three day journey by bus made with no fuss

Swollen feet and tired as could be she lay on the couch
And I realized then and there she was no slouch

During those early days she would amaze and
Watching her grow was quite a show

The more she grew the more beautiful she had become
Even if it felt like she was always on the run

Her vivid imagination would have her end up
Working at a gas station to my fascination

Then one day she would announce out of the blue
It’s time to live on her own and have a home

A new job and boyfriend would ensue as she blossomed
From princess to bride and I would profess my pride

My princess now a little queen was far from done
For she had a son that I could adore galore

But life presents many ups and downs and even frowns
Even for someone with a crown, as we all do, who knew

A move here, a move there,
yet she found her way to another day

When revelations would arrive at home, my bride
Would give me a glare and stare and say

“and who do you think she got that from”
I am not her father, but she is my daughter

Now settled in a city nor far away, a wife, a mother
But still my pretty little queen

Andreas Simic©