Poetry by

Orania Hamilton

 

Yesterday
..
( Tribute to  a lost friend)
.
I trace a footstep in the snow-
beneath a tree, its branches low.
Through frozen tears I see your face,
as branch and flower interlace.
.
Memories, like the leaves will hang
with words we spoke and songs we sang.
The games we played that now are lost,
with shinny marbles and life's frost.
.
With knitted mittens, colors bold,
a scarf too long and shoes too old.
We ran among the autumn leaves.
We hid in foliage playing thieves
.
We shared a dog with floppy ears,
she ran with us for years and years.
Then, one day, her time grew old,
yet thoughts of her are pressed in gold.
.
When lightening struck with winter's storm,
you held my hand and I felt warm.
Then as the snow began to melt,
spring was reborn and sun was felt.
.
Then we grew up, went on our way.
The years behind us went astray.
We stayed in touch, but not to long.
And time's cascade drowned out our song.
.
I trace the stars high in the sky.
With head bowed low I ask God "why"
he took you at the point of time
still young at heart and in your prime.
.
Now silent are the roads we pave
that lead me to your solemn grave.
I touch the stone of tinted gray
to grasp the voice of yesterday.

 

Timely Reflections
~
Preoccupied with age.
I search my memory
remembering
evaporated days.
~
Age declines, hovers like
cloudy smoke over the moon
yet, a truth glows
within, the nostalgia.
~
Life comes stretched as raw canvas.
The portrait yields in my hand.
Its shades of color leave me
to reflect its completion.
~
When life subsides, I shall
move proudly towards a
tunnel of light. But I will
rant as it swallows me.
~
Now, I walk in my garden.
Fill my lungs with heated breath.
In such fragrant moments
lost words hide in foliage.

 

Suspended Heart
.
When sun has left its golden light
and all the stars their burnished glow,                                                                                  

I will sail far in distant flight
to reach the core of my sorrow.
.
Moonlight glow of the ancient seas
once warmed me from its harmony.
I felt its waves caressing me
then numb me with its rhapsody
.
Through the valley of darkest sight,
where stars once hung like trinket charms
and seagulls cried their song in flight,
I'll cradle your heart in my arms.
.
I hear wind chimes hum a sad song,
feel your fingers trace my face,                                                                                           

and I shall morn the now and long
for a moment of your embrace.
.
When gray clouds, moist and tepid
invite storms that pierce life's shores,
I'll find you in Marble Orchid,
to blend my suspended heart with yours.
 

 

A GIFT OF LIFE

 When MY Sun Goes Down
.
When the day comes that I am to leave here
don't close me in wood so I lose my sight.
Give my heart to someone in greater fear
so they might feel the warmth of morning light.
.
Give my eyes to one that has never seen
a golden sunrise or the stars at night,
nor the colors of autumn at full beam,
or the Eagle that spreads its wings in flight.
.
Let my blood flow to the veins of sorrow
that fights for life from the moment of birth,
with cries and hope for one more tomorrow
and the sweetness of life upon this earth.
.
Utilize my cells so that they might grow
so the deaf can hear the roar of the sea
and the rippling sound of the river's flow
that nurtures the roots of the willow tree
.
To remember me is to grant my plea
of all I ask before my last goodbyes
so perhaps what was intended for me
you will someday see in another's eyes
.
Reduce to ashes what is left of me.
Scatter them freely to nourish the earth
that lets me live on once again to be
a part of the living days of my birth.
 

 

___________________

 

Copyright 2006 Orania Hamilton

All Rights Reserved

 

Orania created and hosts Platinum Poetry    More about Orania Hamilton

  

There are times when we all face sadness and despair. It takes but a moment to reach out to someone that needs you. poetry is an eternal language of souls. It can soothe, heal, liberate and enlighten you to the world around you. Words like the wind touch each one of us as  gentle rain washes away our tears. Poetry is like a seed planted in soil wanting to be nourished, to grow with brilliant colors that please the human thought. Take my hand, stroll with me through these pages of love, sadness, want, happiness, friends and nature. 

                            For the love of poetry,
                               Orania Hamilton
                                     Cally2001