Sheltered Storm

Despite the blizzard that is she
despite the roaring winds
the cruel cold
harsh darkness
within.
Burning candle
unaffected by the storm
bowed
head bent
so very very dear.
She is strong
standing tall
in her pain
wrapped around
chains that bind
holding her to the wall
holding her memories.
Mouth open
silent screams
all she wants
to be heard.
Look into her eyes
see within
darkened despair
agony
fear
that she is not enough
never enough
for those looking at her.
Gather her close
rekindle the fire
burn through the coldness
bring to her desire.
Watch her astonishment
as you remind her
once more
you will always be there.
A light in the blizzard.
A port in the storm.
You are home.
©Jan. 29/20
Picture via Pinterest
This poem was begun by John at The Eclectic Contrarian and sent my way to develop. This was the first time we have done it with a poem. Other times he has sent me pictures to write about. He is my adopted brother in another country from a totally different set of parents who is a great man and a really good friend. We also provide great comedy free of charge in the comments section. 🙂
This is the link to John’s take on it. Polarity

Protector

Once more
a fool I have been
allowing my heart
my hopes
to arise
to fill me
moron that I am.
One would think
nay
one who is smart
would know
to ignore the stubborn heart
those emotions
the feelings
remembering pain
anguish
when the heart broke anew
again
(and again
and again.)
Sitting here
sight blurred
veil of tears
aching
realizing
I have played my foolish game.
Allowing you behind the curtain
allowing you to see me
the one
hidden behind the public facade
none know the secrets I hide.
You made me
(make me)
feel safe.
I opened
(open)
myself to you.
Foolish woman I be.
Time has come
to be undone
to lock
throw away the key
protect myself
from…..
me.
©June 13/19
Picture via Pinterest

Oasis

Beguiling.
She moves with grace
ease
fluid
through the hoard of people
as though it were a dance.
Watching.
She nods to those she knows
rarely stopping to chat
continuing to float through the room
a silent ghost in high heels.
Pained.
She is screaming inside her mind.
Too many people
too many details
too many what ifs……
Knowing that she will fail.
Running.
Afraid.
Must get free from the claustrophobic heat
from the people
the voices that shout for her attention
go
go
go
sliding out the door to the winter lawn
her breath coming in short bursts.
Drawing close her cloak
she follows the pathway of desire
no sound
silent
but for the sound of crackling snow
full moon
lighting up the glade
there he waits
the harbor in which she is safe.
Oct. 1/18
Photo by Célina Rohrbach on Unsplash