The Poetry of the Princess of Priskia
Ms.Bonnie Lewis
The Cottage
I sit and watch the clouds pass me by
you can hear the thunder rolling towards us.
You touch my shoulder and I smile because
you know how much I love thunder storms.
We sit wait, the water crashing on the beach,
music playing in our hearts, playing the same tune.
Watching the storm comming towards us.
The storm is not quite here yet.
You take me by the hand and lead me inside,
you have a bottle of wine and candles all over the cottage room.
We sit by the closed window and wait.
The storm finaly hits and hold me so tight
you let me know that nothing can hurt me anymore.
My energy rises as you hold me.
I can feel it flow through me, the thunder crashes
I jump you kiss my neck to bring me down.
The wind blows moaningly as you massage my back and shoulders.
The candles flicker and we are taken in by the energy of the storm.
The lightning is dying now, along with the thunder.
We sit together in each others arms, we watch
the clouds roll by and the angry sky
turns into a blanket of stars.
What I am, and who I will forever be.
She is a slowly ticking time bomb.
About to burst at any time, with all of her emotions bottled up inside.
They say that she will one day shed tears of sand,
for she has not shown emotion for such a very long time.
A crystal is held in her heart.
A glass stone she hopes to one day break to let all the emotion inside go.
Time has become a loathed enemy for all she wants to do is die.
Not a shed of love has touched this heart for a shield of steel protects it and keeps it dark.
She is everything but evil, always trying to be good..
But never letting anything touch her or even her heart.
She is told that the sparkle in her eyes is gone and the bounce in her step no longer there.
But no matter how much she hears this claim she has no clue how to get them things back.
The people in her life care very deeply for her and she has an inkling of that.
But she is so scared of letting emotion go that she pushes them back.
Time will slowly tell who really cares.
And she thinks she knows who they will be.
But to lose the others will be something she just cares not to see.
A kiss on the forehead, a kiss on the cheek.
A kiss on the lips barely means anything to she anymore.
One day she will break and let it all go but whomever is around will have to be strong.
A dream of the heart
I was asleep. Music playing.
Awoken by a knock, I sprung from my dream.
I asked the person to go away for the tears were on the verge of
falling,
Just like when I retreated to my dream land.
The knocking persisted.
And I finally gave in.
“Fine come in!” I yelled.
The door opened slowly, letting very little light in.
With me turned the other way.
The tears not yet falling.
The persons steps ended at the side of my bed.
A small shift of my bed told me that they were sitting on my bed.
An arm touched my shoulder and turned me over.
I saw the face I was longing to see.
A friendly known smile.
With wide welcoming arms.
The arms of my best friend.
My soul mate.
He could make me whole again.
The only one who could fill the void in my heart.
My tears then became his.
And we sat and let the universe take a hold.
Nothing cold hurt us now, that we had each others love.
Friends for life that is what we were.
Just then a knock came at my door.
And I awoke from my dream land.
Reality
What really goes on behind the closed doors you see while walking home everyday?
There is the woman who talks to her plants and doesn't make any sense.
There is the newly wed couple in apartment 3B does she really get those bruises from being clumsy?
The little girl down the street, she plays with her dollies in the most unusual ways.
The screaming, the singing, the laughter and the tears.
You have to wonder what everyone else feels.
There is the kid who calls the two women that live in his house mommy.
The father who works nights and can afford anything.
The funky smell that comes from apartment 16A.
That odd look that you see on Mr.Grey.
The letters that make Mrs.Smith cry, postmarked some day in 1955.
The screaming, the singing, the laughter and the tears.
You have to wonder what everyone else feels.
The typing of the "great novel" that you hear until 3 in the morning from the apartment below.
The screaming of the couple who married 30 years ago.
The babyies who are abandoned every day.
The needles, the pills and the drugs that they take.
Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. Aunts, uncles, cousins and dears.
We are all a part of some great plan.
Something that we can not see and can not scan.
The screaming, the singing, the laughter and the tears.
You have to wonder what everyone else feels.
God only knows who and what we will be.
But if there was a God would he really let happen that which we can see.
It is true. We only see the outside unlike Him.
But who would let the world go through such torture just for a grin on him.
The screaming, the singing, the laughter and the tears.
You have to wonder what everyone else feels.
Darkness falls every single day, along with the rising of the sun at the dawn of a brand new day.
Hope is restored in some people as well as it is ripped right out of the way.
I guess that we have to know that we are the ones to solve this little problem that we have.
I liked Literary Corner M.D. a lot