WOMAN…

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

She was golden
Long before the rising sun
One treasure chest
You never want sunken
Epiphany
The pieces fit perfectly
Her bosom
A cradle to the innocent
Your burdens
Weightless
To her ever caring heart
In full bloom
Flower for every season
It’s quite okay
Hand her the rocks
Undoubtedly
She will find the diamonds

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

BROKEN PIECES

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

These eyes have cried

A thousand tears

Sporadic as an evening shower

The periwinkles are drenched

But the grass does not shine

An overflowing fountain

I can no longer suppress

Not a dime to my name

For my one true wish

Speechless I have become

Constant quiver of the tongue

Restrain me from climbing out

Of a hole that is dismal and dark

Surely whatever I touch

Never turns to gold

Like a star that shone bright

Standing victorious

My sense of hearing

Is in impeccable form

I heard the slamming of the door

A daunting echo

I will never forget

Knowing without

A shadow of a doubt

You were gone

Never to return

A love once united

A life now divided

Yet in this existence

We must live

You will live without my love

And I will live with your choice

Monica St Hillaire, 2020.