Tag: poem

Evening Poems: A Healer

~ Brooke F. ~ 1 Comment

I broke my heart one day, 

Fell to pieces in the day to day fray. 

Shattered shards of red clay 

So I put them in bag and went on my way, 

To find a healer to make me okay. 

I have heard tales of father time 

Tales and poems and even a rhyme. 

So to his house I did climb. 

Hoping to find father time. 

I found him sitting for a meal, 

Hoping he’d take me up on a deal. 

“If this heart you can heal, 

Unto you, I shall kneel.” 

Father time did not conceal, 

The frown in his face he did reveal. 

“I cannot make a heart feel. 

Tis a law I can’t repeal.” 

“Only the maker of the heart of clay 

Can give the healing you so crave. 

If you wish to heal this day, 

You’ll heed my words, I do pray.” 

“But of this, take close note, 

This isn’t a quick antidote.” 

“If this pain you wish to release, 

To put It back together, 

He must have every piece.” 

Evening Poems: Mending

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Here comes the rain,
An ice cold shower,
Clouds that rumble
And hold grey power.

Here comes the rain,
Can you feel the chill?
As water and light,
From the clouds spill.

Rain on earth
Earth in air,
This is your paradise,
A world so fair.

Rain begins to heal,
As a heart begins to mend.
There is only rain drops
In their slow descend.

Evening Poems: Wisdom In The Thicket

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Deep in thicket
In the dark of the wood
Next to a oak
That has long withstood,
Sits an old fox,
Tail bushy and red
With scars suggesting
He should have long been dead.
Talk to the Fox,
He answers one question each,
In hopes that wisdom
He will pass and teach.
Why do we die?
She was first to ask.
The Fox cocked his head,
For this was no easy task.
We pass on, for this is not our home.
Why linger in the darkness of a tomb?
We were made to be many things,
Child, you see,
But comfortable is not one of them.
For against our very nature,
To stay and simply be.
Why then care at all?
The boy said.
He was smaller with brown eyes,
A hair of dark red.
The Fox smiled
A kind toothy grin.
I think that is an answer,
That you find within.

Evening Poems: Trust Fall

~ Brooke F. ~ 3 Comments

Love is like a trust fall
Where someone is allowed to let you fall
For if they dont wanna catch you
You dont want them catching you at all.
You lean into the air
And land upon your back
Too late to back out now
Even though they’ve taken two steps back.
So little surprise-you get the Wind knocked out
You Roll over on your side,
Your Heart is full of doubt
But you close your eyes
And then breath in
Nothing left to do but
Dust yourself off
To get up
And try again.

Evening Poems: A Realist

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

I’m the most hopeful pessimist you’ll ever meet
how do I accomplish such a feat?
I wish to see the good in all I meet,
yet expect something dark lurking beneath.
I hope for the best
expect the worst.
hope I won’t be last,
but I don’t expect first.
the world can be cruel, that much is true,
but I couldn’t help but hope for the best in you.

Evening Poems: Jars of Clay

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Sometimes I wish I could keep my thoughts in Jar, 

Set it down and examine it from afar. 

Thoughts that worry me, locked up tight. 

Hidden under my bed, now out of sight. 

Ideas that I can save for a rainy day, 

Encased in a shell of glass or clay. 

Sometimes I wish I could keep my thoughts in a Jar, 

So when I feel myself spiraling hard, 

I can pluck the darkness from my head, 

And place them in a jar instead. 

Maybe then I can get some rest. 

It’s been awhile, I must confess. 

Sometimes I wish I could keep my thoughts in Jar, 

The ones that haunt me and continue to scar. 

Ones that I’ll take to a cliff so steep. 

And throw them far and into the deep. 

Only to sink to the ocean floor, 

To be forgotten forevermore. 

Evening Poems: Wonder

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Stars sing a melody we cannot understand.
How rare it is to live as we are.
The planets hum in a language we’ve never known.
We are always compelled to look up.
We used to think that the light touches everything.
But Space is so incredibly big.
The Stars, glittering like a jewel on a quilt.
Objects in an endless, weaving dance
You see, the Magnificence of it all haunts me.
The void gaping above as always.
And there are deep corners we know nothing about.
Forever drags further than we know.
Yet, in odd irony, It all goes by so fast.
Because we are here as only Smoke.
But, We act like this is all unbeknownst to us.

Evening Poems: Homesick

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

I woke up today with an ache in my chest 

It was so strong, it impeded my rest. 

The feeling and loss of a place I call home, 

As time goes on, I seems to have only grown. 

Darling, I’m homesick for fields so green 

Skies that are bluer than you’ve ever seen. 

Sick for sunflowers in their neat little rows. 

And for bubbling creek that in the forest flows. 

I’m sick for the house that’s sits on the hill. 

Nestled next to trees that the wind does fill. 

Sick for the kitchen, with yellow on its walls. 

With a goldfinch on the sill that continually calls. 

Curtains washed, air and white. 

Cows in a field, just barely in sight. 

Darling, I’m homesick for every little thing. 

The cows, the kitchen, and the birds that sing. 

But most of all I have a desire that can’t be quelled 

For the innocence and love that that place held. 

Evening Poems: The Comfort of Lonely

~ Brooke F. ~ 1 Comment

The sadness hurts, but at least it listens to me when I talk. 

The security of the space by my sides as I walk. 

The comfort of sadness and of being alone. 

Is the one thing that has remained loyal as I’ve grown. 

The unfortunate thing, is depression is a friend, 

And the only one who stuck with me till the end. 

I know what to expect in this cloud of grey. 

Despite frequently wishing it all away.