In the dark of the night…

Posted in Poetry of Life on July 18, 2009 by Blood Red

In the dark of the night, I reach out to you…
In the dark of the night, I can no longer see you…

As the dawn breaks, my weary eyes ache…
As the dawn breaks, my broken heart forsakes…

I watch the sun cross the sky, and I begin to cry…
I watch the sun cross the sky, and tell myself the lie…

The sun sets through a storm, I collapse in exhaustion…
The sun sets through a storm, I close my eyes in burdened…

The moon is bright and silver, as are my tears flowing…
The moon is bright and silver, as are the scars my heart’s forming…

In the dark of the night, I reach out to you…
In the dark of the night, I can no longer see you…


I dreamed of you…

Posted in Poetry of Life on July 9, 2009 by Blood Red

You came to me in a dream,
a dream I barely can recall
in the waking daylight scheme.

I can only just see your face
or remember where you came from
and why you came upon the case.

I remember your silhouette,
I remember your brilliant blue eyes and
the sunlight made that blue like fire set.

I remember your profile and your hair,
that same sun flame casting a silver glow
and my heart skipped in despair.

Whatever had occurred in this dream
I had not told you of how I truly felt
My heart paused for I was in love it seems.

I drew near your radiant presence
and you turned toward me.
You smiled and welcomed my approach.

I hold that look on your face
deep in my foggy memory
as the rest of the dream escapes.

I know we embraced and I confessed
that I was holding back from you.
You welcomed me and my heart.

I don’t remember what happened after
and I don’t remember what happened before
but I know I will remember you forevermore!

I don’t know who you are.
I don’t know where you are.
But I do know you are real.

Where ever you are,
my thoughts and prayers remain
that He keep you safe in His reign!


Posted in Poetry of Life on June 18, 2009 by Blood Red

I’ve spent much time walking slowly,
through the littered land of Despair.
I kneel and pick through the mess
that litters the ground there.

I see all around me the crumpled papers
that contain the words of my existence.
Not many are happy this day in time;
the ink is smudged from tears of grievance.

I am tired and torn, broken and battered;
time has not healed or helped me at all.
I am dirty and hungry for something
but I continue to wander and crawl.

The breeze arises and dries my teary cheeks;
the clouds part and the sun shines upon me.
I feel warm and reach skyward for sustenance.
For a moment I have hope, cheer and am happy.

But before I can become filled with that light
the breeze dies and the clouds close tight.
I open my eyes to the dreary gray skies
and a distant roll of thunder booms and cries.

I put my arms back down by my side,
and begin to tread once again
through the ravaged wasteland that is me;
filled with despair and I just let it reign.


Posted in Poetry of Life on June 4, 2009 by Blood Red

Yes I know my duties, I know my place.
I wake each morning in absent grace.
I try to go through the daily routine,
only to realize deep within, my fiend.

My soul slips as I begin to despair.
I go through the motions, too aware,
that I walk as an empty shell
with no heart after I fell.

I try and I try and I try to no avail
to be the expected woman unveiled.
I stand by your side day and night
only to forsake the morning’s light.

Why I remain empty and cannot fill
is a question that remains unanswered still.
I have love, I have refuge, I have faith
-but somewhere in my soul is my eternal wraith.


Posted in Poetry of Life on May 23, 2009 by Blood Red

The morning began with the sun shining bright.
Then the clouds moved in, squeezing out the light.

We watched through the window as the rain began to fall;
but there was no sorrow in our hearts as the puddles began to call!

We ran outside, without umbrellas or raincoats or shoes on our feet!
We jumped in those puddles and twirled and danced to the rain’s beat…

With a beautiful day,  such as today, why should anyone want to complain
that the sun is hiding and the clouds are playing in the sky once again?

The ripples in the puddles double as we dance and play;
we are loving this time together and this beautiful day!


Our Lovely Rosa

Posted in Poetry of Life on May 20, 2009 by Blood Red

Rosa was born as a brazen rosebud;
born into the wintery, cold and dead.
With crystal blue eyes and golden hair
she was brought here to melt the ice and snow.

Full of promise and hope for change
she tried to bloom for those she loves.
Everyday she wakes and aims
to make them happier than the doves.

But as the seasons passed slowly by,
her innocence began to fall-
as the crackling and fallen leaves fly
to autumn’s cold ground’s embrace.

Those she loves and adores
fill her with fear and dread.
She is made suffer all the gore
that a sickly mind imagines in his head.

Just when she reaches up toward help,
she is still left alone, cold and hurt;
she feels ashamed and is made to think
that she is the one to blame.

She feels no other choice than to repeat
word for word what they want her to believe.
Deep inside her breaking heart and soul
is the truth buried in the blackest of coal.

She walks a fine line, and is on thin ice!
She lives her tortured life
filled with fear and made to hate;
made to balance on the double edge knife.

She is tossed back and forth and around
until she is dizzy and doesn’t know what’s real;
all she knows is that hate and struggle abound.
She is left alone to deal with what she feels.

It has fallen winter again in cold gusts,
she stands bare against the wind and snow.
She has to fend for herself at her tender age.
What her future holds is not something I know.

A rose in the winter shrivels and hides,
but rises again in the spring, fresh and anew.
This is my prayer I lift high to God
that our lovely Rosa’s Spring is near.


Posted in Poetry of Life on May 20, 2009 by Blood Red

I find myself waiting and thinking,
of you and what you will say to me.
I cannot stop myself from dreaming
of what  someday may possibly be.

But I know this is will not be true
as I am the one who is restraining.
I must keep my mind out of muse
and remember what I’m doing.

I cannot help that you that remain
closely in my bleeding heart,
in between the stitches and scars
tickling and tempting that desire.

I still await for your call, response;
forever drawn to your soul.
You have me completely ensconced
and I do not wish to leave your fold.

You are my dream, my wish;
my out-of-reach forever pulling,
tugging and waxing and waning,
You are my blue obsession!