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Poems by Sandra



Path of no return

Tripping down a darkened path,
I cannot see the light.
Doubts for the future pummel me,
I know I have to fight.
The urge to stay here in the dark
feels like the better choice.
I wonder if I cry out loud
he'll even hear my voice.

Dark has always been my friend,
the shadows comfort me.
But this far down, the path grows wild
Not sure of what I'll see.

Trees thicken as I stumble on,
the branches scratch my hope.
Don't know how much I can endure,
no energy to cope.

Far down, there is a slice of light
attempting to peek through.
It tells me I should carry on,
though it's so hard to do.

The light is love, the cure for all,
the hope I badly need.
The pain and sadness fading now,
must follow where it leads.

I need a guide to take me there,
the light is hard to find.
If someone will reach out a hand,
I won't be walking blind.

The trees still try to grab me
as I push through toward the light.
The doubts are there, I know how fast
the day returns to night.

Love beckons me to reach for it,
I know I have to try.
Maybe this time he'll shelter me.
If not, I'll surely
die...





Bandit of Love

He came to me quite suddenly
on a cold and lonely day.
He brought me warmth, he brought me hope,
he stole my heart away.

No reason to suspect it,
things ended long ago,
I never would have dreamt it
but he made me love him so.

He came and stole my logic,
he turned it inside out.
He made me want and need him
with fervor, without doubt.

He took my heart and held it
in a kind and gentle way.
The only problem rampant
is he's not allowed to stay.

He stole my good intentions
replaced them with desire.
I never planned to be here
in emotional quagmire.

He took away my heartache
although it's coming back.
He gave me hope, he gave me bliss,
but now I'm on the rack.

He stole my peace of mind,
now I'm tortured in the night.
I fight the urge to run to him,
an unexpected plight.

Beloved thief, I ask you,
will you ever be with me?
Or will you hand me back my heart
because you can't break free?




Rusted Knight

Oh knight in tarnished armor,
how will this come to pass?
Your princess long awaits you,
her love will always last.
You could slay her dragons
if you'd just unsheathe your sword.
She calls to you so desperately.
How dare you act so bored?

She worships you, as much as if
you never let her down.
Take off your helmet for a day.
Your true love may be found.

She right there waiting on the side
until you're done your fight.
Hurry now, you still have time
to shield her through this night.

Don't gaze afar too often,
your princess has a heart.
It's tender and it's breaking,
Don't you see her fall apart?

Are you a knight as you profess,
or just another knave?
Do you ride off without a care
when only you can save?

She gives you one last chance,
though you don't deserve her love.
Sir Knight, you'd better take it,
lest she fly far as your dove.



Old Silver

I keep on finding love,
but it's like a tarnished chain.
No sooner do I have it,
than it cracks and breaks again.

The silver turns to dirty gray,
though I strive to keep it clean.
I rub and polish every day,
it still turns grayish green.

So quickly does the tarnish
grow before my very eyes.
What makes this oxidation
no matter how I try?

I want my silver new,
at least have a little glow.
What good is tarnished silver?
Why is it all I know?

Perhaps the fault is blatant,
silver ceaselessly grows old.
The problem-Now I see it...
I should have looked for gold.




Chasing Shadows

Today I bathe in shadows,
the sun obscured from view.
Slipping into darkness
all for the lack of you.

A longing in my heart
consumes my day with pain.
The hole of doubt looms larger,
like an incomplete quatrain.

What causes me to want you
when you're not free to be with me?
You did it, brought me to this space,
now all I feel is need.

Logic fails me daily,
though I know I waste my love.
My heart cares not to listen,
I still feel you are the one.

I'm waiting now, for your next move,
not sure what you will do.
It's too late now to stop this train,
it has to go on through...




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Biographical sketch: I have been a writer since my teenage years. In the past year, in my 40's, I have rediscovered my love for poetry. It feeds my soul, both reading and writing.

Sandra recommends:

Listen to the Warm by Rod McKuen
Reason: He speaks to the heart, and of the most powerful emotions, love, need, and loneliness. All of his works are equally wonderful.

Recommendations for writers:

Think with your heart, but remember to spell check!


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