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Feb 3 · 99
Thoughts of what could be;
tomorrow’s possibilities
cut short by cruel destiny.
Copy written by Vicki Kralapp 2/3/2021
Feb 1 · 75
From halls of learning
ghosts of students past cry
through voices left behind
and rise up against the hate.

A voice crying out against oppression
could not be silenced.
The bullet felt, only strengthened resolve,
for those longing to be educated.

She called out from across the earth
to those on a dying world
wake, wake blind world:
wake to save yourself.

Beauty and strength roll off her tongue
breaking the haze that blinds us,
calling all to stand up and be brave enough.
Youth spoke, and her name was hope.
Poem copy written by Vicki Kralapp 2/1/2021
Jan 31 · 45
Vicki Kralapp Jan 31
Rolling landscape
beneath soft quiet stillness waits,
as still, petite flakes
waft upon the breath of winter.

It’s bitter air
bites at my cheeks and nose,
sharply, waking me
to a day washed clean in white.

Reverently embracing
the solitude of morning light,
I revel in the crispness
of fresh new winter hope.
Poem copy written by Vicki Kralapp 1/31/2021
Jan 29 · 38
Vicki Kralapp Jan 29
Paint me a picture,
I heard the world cry,
and give me the wings
from this madness I'll fly.

Our hearts have been squeezed
to their limit I fear,
and the pain we all share
has been found in our tears.

But the deep winter sun
has burst forth on this day,
giving hope to the hopeless
and warms sorrow’s prey.

It’s stark sparkling light
atop snow tops it dances,
dusting glitter on snowbanks
like diamonds it flashes.

Across fluffy drifts
with impressionist hues,
brings to mind sandy beaches
of Caribbean dunes.

So dance if you can
for this day will soon pass,
let your mind find its picture
‘til you find peace at last.
Copy write by Vick Kralapp 1/29/21
Jan 28 · 131
Vicki Kralapp Jan 28
The heavens sing
its winter song,
through crystal ice
in snowflake form.

With starlight hues,
across the sky,
in awe we watch
parhelion’s array.
Poem copy write 1/28/2021
Sep 2020 · 92
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Beneath this world where life was birthed,
is painted in awesome mystery;
Eden-like beauty fills its silent world
and creation beyond imagining.

Shimmery scales flash before my eyes
in the quiet of the afternoon sun,
as blue tangs dart about in unison
in the turquoise of the shallow seas.

A world pulsing with life,
sparkling with newness every day,
awaiting us to learn its secrets,
within the school of the seas.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 73
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
I reached to catch my dreams
as they teased me in my sleep;
foreign lands beyond my grasp,
and acceptance to be me.

There were many times I wished
I could just give up this fight,
days of solitude and grief,
fighting just to stay alive.

With my eyes fixed on my goal,
I was blind to gifts around,
and the changes from within,
came to me without a sound.

Now I stand among my gifts,
with the lessons life taught me
and thank the heavens for the pain,
that caught these dreams for me.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 52
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
When asked what I wish for, for those coming after me;
I reply, a sweeter passage, for those longing to be free.
I wish for freedom from without and wars that rage within,
and for courage with to find a voice in this world we live in.

My hope for a tomorrow lies within a better day;
a day when people are not hungry, and when skin does not betray.
I ask for kind compassion for those lesser in this world,
and a greater understanding from those of privileged from birth.

I’d pray for bullies banished, for their souls to fully see,
that the hate they are creating, is no place I’d wish to be.
I ask for leaders and for kings, remember where you’re from,
and be a shepherd for your flock, not fleece your lesser sons.

I’d ask religions of this world to live in love and peace,
and live according to their faith and that violence decrease.
I’d ask that all would come to know the joy we will receive,
when we treat all men like brothers and all women equally.

The last thing I would want for them is life without the pain,
of fearing what tomorrow brings within this pouring rain;
a life of bright tomorrows, without worry or hopeless fear,
and I will go in peace, if asked, behind my grateful tears.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 236
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
The mundane day to day never spoke much to me,
with its voice, foreign, speaking in a language unknown.
It slept upon my porch and knocked at my bolted door,
but I swept it away in the morning with each dream I dreamt.

Dreams have carried me to far off lands,
reminding me to reach beyond what I knew,
and bade me to break free from the shackles of life;
to heed their vision as they beckoned on the wind.

Many times I’ve risked it all and left what I knew behind
to follow my heart, beyond the safety of my world,
each time I aspired to be more than I believed I could be
and run with the wind and risk to be free.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/29/2020
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Once I snorkeled reefs so grand they made me gasp in silent awe,
their brilliant world painted with the hues of the seas,
Red and violet fans waved as fishes flitted beyond my touch,
while I passed their world from overhead.

Long ago I delighted in pristine and surreal seas of life;
coral fish and anemone, the sergeant majors and angels.
Their colors still vivid in my dreams, they flash by in prison suits
only in my memories now.

Long ago I swam the seas and witnessed sights beyond my realm;
the giant clams and tiny squid, with schools of fish all hues below.
But now I see a world of grey, devoid of color I once knew,
a sad lament for the great reefs.

Long ago, but just a breath, I swam amidst beauty few will know,
but now I grieve its passing and pray that soon we’ll see,
the future of our reefs, washed gray by human negligence,
as we disregard our world.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 55
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
When I was young, I had no voice,
no wings with which to find my dreams;
to soar above my shackled youth,
to find what lay beyond my chains.

Ever hungry for more, I ached to share
my art and skills, what joy I’d found,
but I perceived too few who shared
what grew within my struggling.

But through life’s growing pains and trials,
a chrysalis began to form,
and life inside transformed to bless,
and free me from my earth bound state.

Now fully formed and freed from chains,
I spread my wings and take to flight,
and soar to heights I’d never dreamed,
inside my life without my wings.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 48
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
You whisper your love song tenderly
upon the early morning breeze.
You tease me awake, as the wind
plays her melody through my open window

Tiny prisms of light above my head
perform their morning ballet on the ceiling
each reflected from shards of painted glass
that harmonize on the wind.

This hymn of childhood memories;
mornings of endless possibilities;
each melody a reminder of beauty
each day sings to us on the wind.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 61
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
A lone leaf floats down on the breeze beside my bench
as the wind whispers an autumn song to all who listen.
Geese overhead answer in their throated honk in flight
as they herald the coming of an early frost.

Red-orange drip from maples and all of autumn hums
as grey squirrels and chipmunks scurry away,
cheeks bulging with acorns and other treats
to bury inside their hideaways.

Fall, so vibrant and bright, with contrasting hues,
beauty embraces me in this garden of fall delight.
I pull my jacket close in its sharp crispness.
as I savor this moment of peaceful bliss.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 59
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
I sit beside your beloved pond,
filled with waterlilies of magenta and white,
painted on the water’s surface,
while dragonflies flit about its glassy face.

I walk the paths you gifted us;
your voice speaks to me within the trees
as you sing your great love song,
within this painted land and garden blooms.

Amidst the midday sun, stinging hot upon my neck,
I find shade beneath your willows,
as I gaze through tears of gratefulness,
at the quiet beauty you left behind.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/28/2020
Sep 2020 · 30
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Upon this ship, tall, bound for life,
surrounded by the boundless sea,
its water-soaked and sun-scorched deck,
beneath my feet forever be.

I’ve set the main sail, helm I take
and with my strength of steel resolve
to let you guide me through the deep
directed on this unknown course.

You’ve guided me to sunlit shoals,
set anchor when the wild winds blew,
and steered me to a harbor calm
when all about me cyclones churned.

Although you’ve aged and changed without,
your spirit strong within has stayed,
and I will cleave to my tall ship,
as I navigate life’s setting sun.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/27/2020
Sep 2020 · 35
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
We’ve left the safe behind us now,
and crossed the flood to evil’s shore,
building our homes within its briars
and lies that have ensnared us all.

We’ve ransomed our souls for our desires;
it’s blackness branded on our hearts,
blinding us to wisdom and agape love,
too eager, we bargain away tomorrow.

While truth and decency have been abandoned,
as we give away the ground we’ve gained,
many hide behind masks of their own making,
refusing to watch while history replays.

Faced with blackened hearts and minds,
that few can truly comprehend,
we watch its blood red currents consume,
as we stand upon Dante’s river shores.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/27/2020
Sep 2020 · 395
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
The mighty sea, majestic rolls,
its strength beyond our mortal realm,
within that awesome, mystery,
the fearsome breath of life still swims.

While navy seas beneath me thrive,
and beckon to the wild in me.
Their furled waves hit strong and true,
and buffet while their cyclones rage.

And with their true majestic strength,
which is the sea, its power released,
rolls deep and awesome under foot
and I, in fearless awe, abide.
All poems are copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/20/2020
Sep 2020 · 39
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Twas yesterday I caught a glimpse: a monarch in our coldest month,
when winds of blizzards grey the snow around.
Its wing fluttered by my door alighting on my window pane
as if to say I bring you peace for winter will soon be gone.

I hurried to see its hues, and thought of warmer months of June
when frost was banished from our souls and green of life had sprung anew.
But as I took a second glance the image faded just as fast, and left instead
was one dead leaf that caught the evening winter moonshine full.

But still this image in my mind, persists; for bleak days winter brings,
for something dead can bring us hope with what was left.
So now I look for hidden cues, reminding me of strength within,
and let the fire of Monarch wings bring strength to help me fly again.
All poetry copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/20/2020
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
The world speeds past eyes unseen,
as if through empty window panes,
but I have taken time to see,
through this my camera’s lens.

The changing colors of the tree,
when autumn tips its leaves with orange;
the beauty of the shallow seas,
and majesty of the world within.

In cityscapes of the world around;
of Italy’s colossal Roman ruins,
upon each painting found on walls
of museums and hallowed halls.

I’ve captured these for aged self,
and fill my empty window panes with
proof to view a life that’s full.
recalling those sweet memories.
All poetry copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/20/2020
Sep 2020 · 39
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Amidst a closet of memories you find me,
in your simple orange shell with hidden hues within.
Your well-worn watercolors, reverent seeds of future art,
precious keepsakes of your memory still remains.

The magic art you housed brought light to early days
and life to the grayness of the cultureless country;
days of purposelessness and aimlessness, without end;
countless days of sheltering against nature, you painted my life with hope.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 2/19.2020
Sep 2020 · 42
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
From first we met, I knew you forever;
your soft, sad chocolate eyes dancing with mischief,
your hands, moving to the ballet of a silent flute,
and your spirit singing in harmony with mine.

I’ve loved you more than words could express;
from a lifetime away, as from a distant planet,
your spirit gently washing against my shore,
speaking to me while I live life alone.

I’ve loved you most, throughout this dream of life,
though our walkabout was a lifetime apart,
I’ve heard you calling in the wind, the trees,
and always in my heart, urging me to come home.
All poetry copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/19/2020
Sep 2020 · 36
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Your early morning chorus echoes within my distant memory;
the raucous call of the kookaburra wakes the bush with each daybreak,
the ting of the bellbird echo as the magpies play on their pipes.
The harmony of life in the bush became my lover.

I long for the smell of your gum trees on the fresh morning breeze;
a cuppa in hand, I soak in the dappled landscape,
while the sun goes walkabout through the bush,
reflecting like diamonds dancing on the morning dew.
All poetry copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/2020
Sep 2020 · 39
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
The sun pours out it's tender hues
over this monochrome land of daybreak.
as muted cracks of chartreuse blink
at me between the buildings to greet my day.

In the first light, before the streets busy,
mist hangs over the land,
softening the stark edges of man
on this island of soft nature, lush with life.  

Surfers aloft, atop curls that wink back at the heavens,
their bodies silhouetted against the eastern glow,
Ocean waves ripple against the golden powder beneath my feet,
as I become one in spirit with this sunshine island.
All poetry copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/2020
Sep 2020 · 54
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Those lucid memories of early youth;
of hot summer mornings and sultry afternoons,
with hands, red with raspberries and currants,
and sweet gooseberries, round with ripeness.

Upon the forest green I lay, eyes turned to the sky,
beneath the cool of the house birch.
Concord delicacies picked fresh from our garden
stain with their violet blood, are devoured in haste.

Magic days of Koolaide, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,
and long walks through the amber September fields,
flash before me; forgotten photographs in my mind,
sweet memories brought to life by your taste.
All poetry is copy written by Vicki Kralapp in 9/2020
Sep 2020 · 72
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Your thistles sprouted long ago, at our birth;
seeds from corrupt distant lands,
found root inside our soil flourishing, unchecked,
we grew blind to the depth of your scourge.

Small and unnoticed, in a corner of our land,
still, we turned and let you grow,
refusing to address your prickly stalk,
blindly thinking you would die.

But seeds of your thorns have grown throughout,
floating on the winds of hate, spreading its toxins,,
crowding out the wonder that could be ours,
spoiling its soil with your roots that run deep.

Now our land, filled with thorns, with deadly poison grow,
infested, a bountiful harvest of anger and hate.
We follow the rest in sorrow and shame,
in a land where wicked blooms grow.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/2020
Sep 2020 · 39
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
Each autumn, my heart aches for  you,
and drifts back to so long ago,
with smells and sounds of fall’s awakening.
What seems like just a few short weeks,
a lifetime swiftly passed me by.

You left us on that Tuesday morn,
as rain seeped from the wet outside,
and caused our eyes overflow,
raining down on tear stained cheeks,
that drenched us in bittersweet release.

We huddled round your dying chair,
while softly holding silenced hands,
as if to hold fast to your soul,
embosomed to its earthly bonds,
hearts longing that you stay,

Our broken hearts could not endure,
but knowing that your time was nigh,
we placed a kiss upon your cheek
and with a blessing sent you off,
to be at peace from cancer’s grip.

And as you drew that one last breath,
you mouthed those words bereft of sound,
and with that final breath bestowed,
on us a gift, your dying words of
“I love you”.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/2020
Sep 2020 · 138
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
I’ve buried you upon the moon,
along with all my secret desires.
I’ve hidden you away from view,
protecting my tender heart.

The secret lies we tell ourselves,
so we never have to face the truth;
the lives we lock behind our doors
and desperation of our youth.

I’ve banished you to that life of grey,
bereft of me to dwell on you,
and shades me from judgmental eyes.
releasing me to live in peace.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 9/2020
Sep 2020 · 36
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2020
I pour you out on paper with my pen,
like sour milk past its due date,
discarding the pain you’ve left me,
with your brutal goodbye,
as you turned me away into the black night.

I spill out my rage for your coldness;
for hiding her inside and letting me think
that I was the only one.
I rage on for making me love you,
and for not seeing the telltale signs until too late.

I stand by my basin at last,
and with a single stroke of a match, you’re ablaze
with the white hot anger I’ve held.
Your memory crumbles along with the ashes,
as they swirl out of sight, down the toilet of my past.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 2020
Aug 2020 · 39
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Humanity, but vessels rich with radiant energy,
created for a noble purpose.
are made of stardust and birthed from beyond;
part of the kingdom of creation.

Hold tight to that nobility;
that spirit of mutual creation;
to the beauty within and our royal calling,
even in the light of today’s world.

Be proud and look to the stars,
from whence we came;
humbly remembering that we are but atoms
forged of the earth by the heavens.

Inspired by a Serbian proverb.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Aug 2020 · 34
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
We raise our cries in unison at the rain
as it pelts heavily on our lives,
drowning our tomorrows
with its dreariness and gloom.

Clenching our fists to the clouds,
we lift the voice of frustration,
as we wait for this perfect storm to abate
and give us solace.

As we huddle amidst the shelters
of our convictions,
we hold our breath and wipe
the wet of anger from our eyes.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Aug 2020 · 44
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Red shards of this broken heart lay strewn about underfoot,
after a lifetime of battles and war.
Once strong, protected behind walls of iron and steel,
my resistance rusted amidst neglect and abuse.

My heart shattered, I lay fallen before my foe;
leaving me vulnerable before love’s arrows,
I’ve felt the sting of battle in love and war throughout life.
Once a singular crimson, a tender puzzle lies.

Yet, with time and love, its scarlet cracks have been sewn together,
like lead between pieces of stained glass in windows;
broken fragments replaced with colorful hues,
and prisms of light dance with reflected beauty from within.
All poems are copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Aug 2020 · 36
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Chocolate; that dark addiction,
with its rich sweetness;
Belgian, French, Dutch; a triple cocktail.
Little does it matter which is offered;
all, my taste buds’ Achilles heel
and shared way to my heart.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp August 2020
Aug 2020 · 37
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Mere words can never quite convey,
the majesty of nature’s brush;
its sunset’s vibrant flaming rays,
and pastel hues of morning’s blush.

The whitened peaks that touch the sky,
with mountain slopes that halt our breaths,
are laced with orchid grandeur high,
and lofty clouds their craigs protect.

The desert contrasts, stunning hues;
with reddish orange of sunburnt sands,
and skies that fall as azure blues,
are painted daily with those hands.

No, none can capture nature’s soul,
and recreate it’s splendid form,
for though we try we cannot know,
this Master who from dust transforms.
All poems are copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Aug 2020 · 41
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Summer sighs, its long last breath,
hot and heavy, against my cheek,
bidding me farewell before the cold,
as August falls away to autumn.
All poems are copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Aug 2020 · 34
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Days of long, hot, steamy afternoons,
digging forts in sandpits during the peak of summer,
hunting grasshoppers as they fled from my cupped hands,
I ran like the banshee I was, growing up wild in the country.

Memories of days in shorts and undershirts,
my skin stained orange like the sand I played in,
I lived on Kool-aide and peanut butter sandwiches,
snacking on sweet red raspberries and currents that grew in our garden.

Cool nights playing twilight tag with my brothers;
the air turned crisp, always ending too soon,
mom hosing us down before we were allowed inside.
Washed clean and tucked in, welcomed sleep greeted us as our heads hit the pillow.
All poems are copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
The local creek winks in the midday sun, beaconing us
to silently slip our barefoot feet into its cool.
We wait on the grey-brown crayfish to appear;
their bluish-gray pinchers raised, ready to do battle.

Carefully, we cup our fingers behind them,
along the clear water’s surface in wait,
as each scoot backward into our human nets,
clawing for release, we earn our battle wounds.

Midday comes too soon as we break out our bag lunches,
and we devour our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
We lie on the creek bank and close our eyes
as the August sun lulls us into a late summer bliss.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 8/2020
Aug 2020 · 209
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2020
Misted jade mountains tower above,
surrounding me in a semicircle of tropical beauty.
On a warm white beach of my sandy bed, I found my Tahitian tan,
as the rhythmic waves sang their song, lulling me to sleep.

At night under the khaki green canvas of a rented tent, I hid,
its sides protecting me from dangers in the night;
palm sized spiders, alien insects, and falling coconuts…
I hold out for the safety of day of my cozy soft sand.

Thus, I found myself at a time fate sneered at me;
as I pitched a tent under the coconut palms;
with other travelers I happened upon while adventuring:
ivy league graduates, a burly pipeline worker, and me.

My memories are rich with the smells, sounds, and feel of the Pacific;
vignettes of lush blanketed mountains, wrapped in bright turquoise seas,
and me, barefoot in the surf, eating fresh coconut from a newly cut husks,
enjoying golden days in the sun.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp August/2020
Vicki Kralapp Jul 2020
Along the well-worn winding path,
we made our way between the burnt sienna of early sumac,
their fuzzy heads brushing against our arms,
as we basked in the rich ambiance of fall.

The smell of autumn in the air, clean and warm,
shadows long and drawn out, in September’s Mannerist style,
painted dark on the ochres and greens of the landscape,
we played our way home from our long days of school.

Rich days of golden sun on my back, long and lazy;
cicadas buzzing, grasshoppers guiding us along our way.
Memories transport me to this simpler time and place;
when my heart was still young and filled with newness of life.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in July, 2020
Jul 2020 · 74
Vicki Kralapp Jul 2020
My life is changing, transforming,
growing, without a whisper of notice.

No longer do I recognize myself,
for what I was yesterday has flown.

But regret is not within my heart,
for it becomes me, like the colors I wear.

For change is growth, and growth is life;
to live is change, the past is but a memory.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jul 2020 · 115
Vicki Kralapp Jul 2020
You whisper on the morning wind,
amid the silent majesty,
and in thin places that I find,
I still can sense your energy.

A place of solitude and peace,
beyond the realm of humankind,
where in the silence yet you speak,
above the din of all mankind.

These mystic places here on earth,
the veil between our worlds stretched thin,
where we can listen to your voice,
and feel your presence on the wind.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jul 2020 · 55
Vicki Kralapp Jul 2020
The fourth, our nation’s birthday; a time for family, food and friends,
as we celebrate this holiday, we embrace our fellow man.
with our Weber grills ablaze, filled with ribs and bratwurst too,
a watermelon for dessert, topped off with wine or brew.

Those who join with us to celebrate, are all from different lands;
From the islands and the forests, to Sahara’s desert sands,
and together with our brothers, we give thanks and all embrace,
for all colors and all cultures make America our race.

But as we celebrate this year, in the land which we’ve been blessed,
we see our country differently, as we struggle through this mess.
With our virtual connections we reach out to those we love,
saying prayers for those who struggle that they’ll one day rise above.

Let us all remember blessings, and give thanks for what we have,
and together, with our brothers, find some peace throughout our land.
Though despite our troubles heavy, we’re alive to share this day,
with the land we all grew up in, and the mem’ries that we’ve made.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jun 2020 · 58
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
I’m frightened for our nation, with each new crises arise,
the fear within is palpable, and weighs us down inside,
our war against pandemic, civil rights, and border walls,
each day brings new anxiety, within our bloodied halls.

I’m frightened for our people, as each day brings mounting fear,
we see the unemployment, death, destruction, through our tears.
The protests and the burning, all remind us of the past,
hurt everyone who lives within, regardless of our “caste”.

I’m frightened for my loved ones, as we struggle through our days,
and close our doors to our past lives in an effort to stay safe,
inside our silent solitude, while others squander theirs,
without a mask to shield us from the virus that they share.

I’m frightened for tomorrow as we try our best to heal,
I do all that I can myself, to others I appeal.
Today’s our day of reckoning, whichever way we can,
we lift our voice imploring and with prayer we take our stand.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jun 2020 · 58
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
Our nation, desperate for a leader, is starving for
intelligent, educated, and eloquent minds;
those who lift others above themselves.
Is this too hard to find, I ask?

A leader is one who looks beyond bipartisan politics,
to solutions that work for the whole of America;
a person who lives his/her life with dignity
and treats others with the Golden Rule.

A leader needs to honor his or her position
for (s)he is not there just for themselves;
but to help and protect those under them,
like a mother bird on a nest.

Leaders aren’t perfect, but do their best
to live above reproach; as an example to their people.
Our leaders represent us around the world
how others see us, treat us, and are our future.

A leader surrounds him/herself with intelligence,
and listens to others who know more than they;
what they say is as important as how they speak
and what action they take.

The color of the skin or gender shouldn’t matter,
but what type of person they are and
how they help us during their days in office,
especially in these times we find ourselves.

A true leader is appointed to protect their people,
not tear them down, stir them up, or cause pain.
Leaders are there for us to find, and our job…
is to find and elect them.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
I lay between my summer sheets,
like many other sleepless nights,
and try to will myself to sleep;
as this becomes my nightly fight.

My thoughts spin deep inside my mind,
laid heavy with the breaking news,
and struggle with this news to find,
a way to unwind and defuse.

Still some events invade my dreams
as dinosaurs and threatening quakes,
that chase me down until I scream,
and find again I am awake.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jun 2020 · 56
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
The silence that surrounds us now; a gift that few appreciate,
as oft’ we grumble and complain, and pray deliv’ry from our fate.
For now we go about our lives, we do so often quite alone,
and many work to just survive, while staying safely in their home.
The crowded markets and the malls, where we so often spent our days,
we’ve learned to do without the halls, that in their buildings isolate.
Now as we go throughout our days, the peacefulness we often seek,
is here to guide us through these months, and help us find our treasures deep.

For some it’s time spent with our youth and others find the time to read,
so many search within for truth and others learn the skills to lead.
For me, perception is the key, to how I use this precious time,
and what my future has for me, I’m given now by fate’s design.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jun 2020 · 53
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
Behind this mask I am but me;
no cover up, I’m message free.
No right or left to hide behind,
no secret message here to find.

Before you think I am that dim,
come crawl around within my skin,
I only wish to stay alive,
and carry on with my own life.

So, when you see a mask on me,  
please pass me by and let me be,
to safely go about my day,
and practice freedom my own way.

But think a bit before you ask,
when leaving home without your mask,
the price your freedom you might trade,
for neighbor’s lives you have betrayed.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
My name, it stands for victory;
it's strengthened me through countless storms,
I take my breastplate formed with pain,
for I’ve been through a mighty war, that’s forged this  soul of mine within.

My name, it stands for victory,
against the full campaign of life,
from guns employed to wear me down,
and bearing witness to the scars, they’ve made my heart a mighty force.

My name, it stands for victory,
through years of feeling second best,
I hid within my outer shell,
though few would ever know or guess, behind this smile which was my mask.

My name it stands for victory,
against life’s beasts, of every kind,
my spirit raises now its name,
not unafraid, I take my sword, and vanquish all my mighty foes.

My name, it stands for victory,
amidst our raging troubled world,
within my armor’s might I'm strong,
for victory will always be, my given strength, armor and shield.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
If wishes flew upon the wind, I’d reach above and catch me some,
and bring them back to earth with me, and keep them safe for days to come.
I’d wish for peace in troubled times, for those not knowing how to love;
for those afflicted by our plagues, without the means to rise above.

For all my brothers in our world, I’d wish we’d all learn to embrace,
and look beyond our differences, to see the wealth beyond our face.
For black or white, brown, red, or gold, we’re all the same within our skins;
all look for love and brotherhood, and truth beyond our earthly sins.

If wishes flew upon the wind, I’d catch a few as they passed by,
and make my wishes into acts, to help all those who as they cry;
I’d find my voice and sing with all; a choir that lifts beyond the noise,
and with this song, send up a prayer, for those who hear; peace in our time.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Jun 2020 · 57
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
Hope floats on gentle morning wings,
through windows just beyond the storms,
and lifts its voice in revelry,
within the willow’s sheltering arms.

He joins the choir of morning song,
with harmonies that calm our soul,
reminding all to look beyond,
embracing natures healing roll.

We seek a refuge from our world;
our broken lives are filled with pain,
within the death and violence,
beyond the trouble, and the rain.

So listen for the whippoorwill,
and robin in their melodies,
reminding us that nature’s gifts,
are often blessings that are free.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
Jun 2020 · 52
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2020
As we recall our legacy,
our voices rise in angry chants,
and once again we face the truth,
with handmade signs of our unrest.

America, in our cold grey day,
remembers its original sin,
of stolen sons, and lives enslaved,
to build our nation new as one.

Home of the free, we never were,
just more than other countries fare,
and we must see with eyes unblurred,
to history’s truth, we must endure.

The truth is we’re a selfish bunch,
with monarchy still reigning us,
and ‘til we treat all man as one,
“let freedom ring” is but a dream.
All poems copy write by Vicki Kralapp in June, 2020
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