Poetry

---

(Group I)
On an Angel's Wing
The Bottle
Dusty Little Diamond
Step In
The Cup
While He Sleeps
Mesmerized
Love in the Air
Elizabeth's Song for Blake
Purple-Filled Vessel

On an Angel's Wing

Dedicated to my loving and most colorful friend, Lynn.

Were you sent to me
on tips of an angel's wing
to open my heart,
to make me sing
with checkbox truths
and make me cry
in colorful font,
(No reason to lie.)
so it would stare back
and cut me deep,
bleeding my wounds
at last, to sleep
in forever sleep,
though still they're there,
softened by an angel
who'd no reason to care.

Checkbox truths --
a secret you hold
to lay on a heart
when it's bitter and cold.
I love you for that
and for who you are.
Check yes or no --
did you come from afar
to rescue my soul
before it could drown
in deep self destruction
and never be found.

Checkbox truths --
sent from above
to grant me a healing
with patience...
and love.
© Joyce Pool

The Bottle

When I find all my tears
collected in a bottle,
poured out
and running over me
like a soothing bath
in a gentle mountain stream,
I can rest.

There's peace
in finding that bottle
at the bottom of the hill
when I walk back down.

As for now,
I simply need the strength to walk
so Love
has me filling a bottle.
© Joyce Pool

Dusty Little Diamond

The following poem was written for the "Green Eyes" romance contest.

Often times I’ve wondered
What sits beyond the sky
Too big a place to measure
Where all the answers lie

Great is the awesome Prince
Who gently holds my heart
And unfolds all the color
More precious to impart

We think "imperfections"
He calls it simply "clay"
He molds to His desire
For a perfect display

See what He’s created
Just from this clay alone
I’m a perfect diamond
Cut out to call your own

Don’t wait for something big
That glares when you hold it
It’s a cubic zircon
The Prince didn’t mold it

Blow away settled dust
Beneath it you will find
A rare, precious jewel
Forgotten, left behind

It’s colors radiate
Highlights on winter white
Scarlet from its surface
Colors and lights the night

Grasp the precious jewel
That hides behind green eyes
While still, it can be found
Despite the dust disguise
© Joyce Pool

Step In

The following poem was written for the "Green Eyes" romance contest.

In quiet moments,
you'd hear a tear fall,
if you were here,
and IF mine would fall.

But they won't,
because I won't,
because you won't,
come close enough.

And who's to say
they'd fall?
They just might be
happy tears,

streaming down
from emerald eyes
onto gently held,
joyous face.

Come, my prince;
Step courageously in
to what waits for us
in my quiet place.
© Joyce Pool

The Cup

The following poem was written for the "Green Eyes" romance contest.

What hides behind
emerald pools
searched out only
by mere fools
distance
fear
but I'm learning
yearning
to be honest
to open up
to reach out hands
take the cup
of life's
spheres

What hides behind
hidden treasure
emerald jewels
full measure
romance
pain
but I'm learning
yearning
to be honest
to open up
to reach out hands
take the cup
be real
feel
© Joyce Pool

While He Sleeps

The following poem was written for the "Green Eyes" romance contest.

Gentle, white dove
Sing of unfailing love
While he’s yet asleep
My heart to keep
Show him green eyes
‘Til his sweet soul cries
"Bring her home to me
For eternity"
© Joyce Pool

Mesmerized

The following poem was written for the "Taboo" romance contest.

Warm breath upon my skin
Fingertips trailing down my spine
Patience wearing thin
Waiting eagerly, love divine
But it was all disguised
Harmonized
To leave me mesmerized
Neither now, nor then
Would love feel so fine
If I’d seen that wicked grin
If I’d seen the sign
But it was organized
(I was patronized)
To leave me mesmerized
Now the ice has grown thin
While I wait patiently in line
Discarding common men
For the one I know to be mine
For I’ve realized
Mesmerized
Just isn’t kosher
© Joyce Pool

Love in the Air

The following poem was written for a "Love in the Air" romance poetry contest in which the extra challenge was to write from the persona of the opposite sex.

Whispered in the mist,
Carried on a breeze,
Your voice bids me "Come, my love, my fair one.
Not below me, dear,
And not above me,
But beside me stand, my love, stand with me.
Taken from my rib
But for a season,
Come home to me now, my love. Give me breath.
Closest to my heart
You were then fashioned.
I am incomplete, my love, without you.
Those passionate kisses,
Long warm nights of bliss,
Are superfluous gifts to life with you.
Come, my fair lady,
Stand strong here with me,
Before the breeze carries away the mist."
© Joyce Pool

Elizabeth's Song for Blake

The following poem was written for a romance writers' contest entitled "champagne." I didn't particularly care for the subject, but... well, you be the judge. I wrote it pertaining to a short story about a woman named Elizabeth and the object of her affection, Blake, which won the short stories contest. Chapters of that story were written and entered one at a time for months. This one turned out to be another winner for the romance poetry contests.

Lust is but a passion;
It soon shall pass away;
A bogus wandering dream
Quickly gone astray.

But new love, when it’s true,
Cuts you straight to the heart.
From cares of this world, it is
Ever set apart.

It’s flower never fades.
Though, one day when you’re old,
Your eyes will captivate me,
If the truth be told.

I’m caught up in a web,
I pray not of deceit,
Waiting in anxious wonder,
Time, for to defeat.

But time, it is my friend;
It will take that to know
If you share in my vision,
Soon and loving beau,

Where I gently hold you,
Softly stroking your face,
Resting against my bosom,
In lovers' embrace.

I hunger for your lips;
Are they sweet as champagne?
And will they leave me listless
Like a gentle rain?

But more than all of this,
I want to be your wife,
Who will always honor you
All your loving life.

Lust and love do differ;
Lust is written in sand.
Love is written on the heart
With an unseen hand.

Lust will surely wither
Just when touched by the wind.
But love stands the test of time,
Bold and without end;

It never goes away, goes away.
© Joyce Pool

Purple-Filled Vessel

The following poem is based on a dream.

Silver vessels trimmed in gold
Down river float, unknowing
Vast black water skims their souls
The oil within them unflowing

Focused on aqua contents
Knowing that vessel is me
I watch the force of nature
Push it gently out into sea

Where vessels crowd together
All royal, I must assume
For their purple contents glow
Still, I smell aqua's sweet perfume

Of all the royal vessels
Yet, one stands apart from them all
Aqua is pushed toward him
As though the river hears his call

The breath of God waves atop
Like an unseen hand over them
Blending together vessels
Oil pouring from blended rim

New contents now shine in bronze
Purple and aqua radiate
In highlights from the vessel
Blessed oil to satiate
© Joyce Pool

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE