Rain

Outside the skies are grey

a slight wind picking up.

I hear the rumbling of the thunder;

hints of a storm are underway.

My kitty clutched to my lap

digging her claws ever deeper, ouch!

I can smell the wet dirt,

moistened earth yearning for more.

Rain drops start falling leaves rustle about.

The thunder keeps on coming,

quick flashes soon light.

I am excited for this early evening slight.

Good-Bye Poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson

I read this poem the other day and really enjoyed it. I hope you do too 🙂


Good-Bye

Good-bye, proud world! I’m going home:
Thou art not my friend, and I’m not thine.
Long through thy weary crowds I roam;
A river-ark on the ocean brine,
Long I’ve been tossed like the driven foam;
But now, proud world! I’m going home.
Good-bye to Flattery’s fawning face;
To Grandeur with his wise grimace;
To upstart Wealth’s averted eye;
To supple Office, low and high;
To crowded halls, to court and street;
To frozen hearts and hasting feet;
To those who go, and those who come;
Good-bye, proud world! I’m going home.
I am going to my own hearth-stone,
Bosomed in yon green hills alone, —
A secret nook in a pleasant land,
Whose groves the frolic fairies planned;
Where arches green, the livelong day,
Echo the blackbird’s roundelay,
And vulgar feet have never trod
A spot that is sacred to thought and God.
O, when I am safe in my sylvan home,
I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome;
And when I am stretched beneath the pines,
Where the evening star so holy shines,
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,
At the sophist schools, and the learned clan;
For what are they all, in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet?

Brown Eyes

My eyes are

Brown like

My mother earth

I carry her inside me.

She looks outside

And shows me

What to think, I blink .

I am her daughter

The fruit of her conception

And what she tells me I believe.

Growing Up

My little body came from you

Now is grown and looks like you

How to embrace it

Love and move on

When what you still do enrages me

A part of you I’ll always be

But make it better is what I’ll do

Metamorphosis

I wish I could redeem myself

and say something smart.

That with a word I could undo

all the stupid things in my life.

But how alas magic ain’t real

and wishes don’t seem to come true.

Yet on I must toil, see my future unfold

and accept what is gone for it cant be undone.