PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You slipped between the words

Falling short to reach your lips

Breath deep

Answers travel short distances

They travel a wings flight

To hover around some sweet angel’s head

Waiting for approval

Anticipating one’s glance

Rich in hues

Makes black fade

Colors blossom with brilliance

Smiles grow from tender thoughts

Sleep brings dreams

Drawn on carriages

Brought by onyx laden stallions

Dripping stars on night’s minions

To comfort the weary

For tomorrow’s beauty will show bright

In dancing eyes

Of the forgetful

Walking quietly past the ever after



6-09-02

















P.S. I don’t get it either, but hope you like it.

I dream of him sitting there

in a gray image of a chair.

He is a boy becoming a man

and preparing to go off and tour distant lands.

His hair is brown and blonde

he appears so handsome and so strong.

His face is only a blur to me

and yet it is the one thing I crave to see.

He has such a caring heart that it cannot be measured

and I fear this dream is all I have left of him to treasure.

Child that I hold dearest to my heart,

my only wish is that I could have given you your start.

Life without you holds much sadness,

sometimes it is difficult to ignore the madness.

Though your love I will never know

your mother loves you and with these tears that love shall clearly show.

They think because I sew and bake

And sweep a white pine floor

I never think of winding roads

Somewhere beyond my door!



They think me deaf to messages

Of winds in trees that bend

And away in sheer abandonment

While all I do is mend!



'Tis true, my body dwells at home

While a white shoreline calls

The roving heart and soul of me

Beyond these humble walls!



And so I sing and bake my bread

And baste my narrow seams

But while I put my loaves in pans

My heart still, is light with dreams!





Dorian Petersen Potter

AKA LadyDP2000

copyright@2002

They wanted me to always look out for you    

Boys alone with their daughter bothered them      

But you grew older, now I simply adore you

and they're afraid this loser just might win.



I like the fact I live beside you baby

at the gateway to love near discipline

We're guided by the power of what's happenin

the boiling spirit, underneath our skin    



I don't feel sorry that I dumped your sister

she'd always tell them where you'd been

and now you see her stayin at home waitin

while we're drugged with love lip to chin.



Now here we are in a long airport line up

Oh how we prayed for this thrill to begin

I don't like it by the window I'll take the isle

but I don't want to be far from your grin

                  

Oh I thank you for the kindness of growing up  

and taking this advenbture on the wind    

We practised many nights and we're ready

I'll play the french horn and you the violin



They believe us when we say we live for music

cause you're in grade six now and I'm in seven

The school band won these tickets down to Boston

I hope we do the same next year again.

I came 'round the hill

like always I do.

I brushed your warm cheeks,

your soft fur met my dew.



I moaned and I sighed

like always I do;

my ineffable secrets

I tried to tell you.



I probed in your hair

like always I do.

I crept 'neath your clothes,

seeking the real you.



I whisper: "Ancients are here",

like always I do,

"come join in our repose.

All our secrets are true."



But you went on your path,

and like always I do,

I watched you wander away;

to my self I was true.



But now I can't find my own way,

like I never can do,

for YOUR way is my quest;

The Wind's joy depends upon you.



I Am The Wind Of The Hills,

and as you go your sweet way,

I have this prayer, 'though The Wind:

inhale me, deep, another day.



((Trying hard in creating,

to match your essence & line;

but not exceeding your meanings,

much, much deeper than mine.))

                Inside the oceans of sweet dreams

                there's places you can't run nor walk

                and you get caught up in a stream

                on a slumber boat of scattered thoughts

                You see a face there you adore

                and she offers you her breast

                you reach for her but she's no more

                oh she looked so much like Beth



                I live with memories locked in mind

                since I laid her soul to rest.

                and my heart aches for a time,

                a time, for life after Beth.



                The search for inner peace of mind

                on the narrow trail to light

Why do we search in a daydream,

pondering fantasies there,

looking for unexplained reasons,

wanting real life to compare.



Born within sad, lonely spaces,

places that dwell in the soul,

conceiving that one perfect image,

lover, illusion or goal.



Those fanciful dreams we’d created,

carefully shaped in our mind,

mended those heartbroken spaces,

reality now seems so kind.



In truth, it’s merely a daydream,

oftentimes kept locked away,

releasing in sad times or bad times,

escaping the boredom of day.



Just let them remain playful musings,

things that would never be real,

use them for self-centered reasons,

easing the sorrow you feel.



Never feel guilty ’bout dreaming,

questioning fantasies there,

daydreams are wondrous illusions,

use them when life isn’t fair.

As I sit here alone

Many thoughts arrive,

Love sometimes is so tough

Love is not new toy



Many times I have spent

Thinking of times with you

Some were good, some were bad

And still I wonder today why?



Sitting here on my new porch

With nowhere for me to go

I dream of someone special like you

That would be there just for me



Love is sometimes an addiction

Love means too many things to many

But I never felt as much alive

As I did when I was  with you.







Dorian Petersen Potter

AKA LadyDP2000

copyright@2002

nothing could be better

than just seat in a corner

ponder the times gone by

or count the drop of rains

falling stridently off the sky



this isn’t new to me

this too isn’t a dejavu

adamant to be glimpsed

a deity must be playing

playing my mind’s eye

the images of the pristine

a xanadu in disguise



swiftly I recall

those treasured moments

how I wish captured

to my taut embrace

the heat of the sunset

that was burning me tan

shrubberies as tall as a gnome

where I toyed hide and sick

those were the days

of utter geek



as I held the pillow

inside my arm, I held it tight

to splash some more semblance

and wishing not to wake up

for those were my past

kept in a luggage

like a location map



humming of birds

dozes me off

waves of salty water

teases me off

i will hug this forever

until such time

something would come up

and bring me back

to where I want



forever sleeping

in the vast space