by Theresa Lovelace
It's there when the new day sneaks in from its rest
It's there when night's blanket has fallen
It's there when the dew drops down from the sky
It's there when the sparrow comes calling.
It's there when the winter's icy cold breath
leaves traces of life that has died
It's there when the autumn undresses the trees
as sadness and pain fills their eyes.
It's there when spring's gentle and loving caress
embraces all life that is new
It's there when the summer sun kisses our face
and the warmth of the season shines through.
It follows us as we go our way
It never once leaves our side
Unwanted companion, sometimes an old friend
From whom we can never hide.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
BEING WITH HIM
by Theresa Lovelace
Like cotton candy on a summer day
Like biting a sweet, juicy peach
Stolen kisses on an afternoon date
A walk on a quiet beach.
Like opening presents on Christmas Day
An ice cold glass of Coke
A ride in a brand new shiny car
Or telling some real funny jokes.
Like eating chocolate candy
Or singing a sweet melody
Seeing old friends and making new ones
And living the life that I please.
A crackling fire on cold winter nights
A cozy dinner for two
Like drinking champagne
that tickles your nose
Or a ride in a wooden canoe.
Like seeing an old oldies movie
Or writing a sensitive poem
Hamburgers, french fries, pizza, ice cream
Or a quiet evening at home.
Like watching a beautiful sunset
Or feeling a cool gentle breeze
Like eating fried fish on a Friday night
Or walking on new fallen leaves.
Each moment together I treasure
Each moment a new day begins
Each time I have thoughts of things that I love
They remind me of being with him.
Copyright 1995
Like cotton candy on a summer day
Like biting a sweet, juicy peach
Stolen kisses on an afternoon date
A walk on a quiet beach.
Like opening presents on Christmas Day
An ice cold glass of Coke
A ride in a brand new shiny car
Or telling some real funny jokes.
Like eating chocolate candy
Or singing a sweet melody
Seeing old friends and making new ones
And living the life that I please.
A crackling fire on cold winter nights
A cozy dinner for two
Like drinking champagne
that tickles your nose
Or a ride in a wooden canoe.
Like seeing an old oldies movie
Or writing a sensitive poem
Hamburgers, french fries, pizza, ice cream
Or a quiet evening at home.
Like watching a beautiful sunset
Or feeling a cool gentle breeze
Like eating fried fish on a Friday night
Or walking on new fallen leaves.
Each moment together I treasure
Each moment a new day begins
Each time I have thoughts of things that I love
They remind me of being with him.
Copyright 1995
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
THE MOTHER I NEVER KNEW
by Theresa Lovelace
You gave birth to me
On the rich, dark soil that is you
On the proud, noble land
That has always been you.
You are my mother
Yet, you never held me to your breast
Its warmth never known to me
Never have I felt your loving touch
Or have been comforted
By your soft, peaceful whispers.
You never watched me as I grew, my mother
The giver of life
And, though your blood runs through my veins
You do not know me
Nor I you.
Your strength I've inherited
Your grandeur, my legacy
But never have I basked in your splendor
Your glory never known to me
I have yet to revel in that which belongs to me.
And though my anxious yearnings
May find my footsteps on your womb
You'll always be a stranger to me
Africa
My mother
The mother I never knew.
Copyright 1996
You gave birth to me
On the rich, dark soil that is you
On the proud, noble land
That has always been you.
You are my mother
Yet, you never held me to your breast
Its warmth never known to me
Never have I felt your loving touch
Or have been comforted
By your soft, peaceful whispers.
You never watched me as I grew, my mother
The giver of life
And, though your blood runs through my veins
You do not know me
Nor I you.
Your strength I've inherited
Your grandeur, my legacy
But never have I basked in your splendor
Your glory never known to me
I have yet to revel in that which belongs to me.
And though my anxious yearnings
May find my footsteps on your womb
You'll always be a stranger to me
Africa
My mother
The mother I never knew.
Copyright 1996
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
HAUNTED
by Theresa Lovelace
It surrounds me
Its lifeless form embraces me,
Visions of being consumed
By its insatiable appetite,
Haunt me.
A menacing appearance,
It fills me with mysterious wonder on the inside
On the outside
A cold foreboding.
It beckons me
With sounds of calming resolve
And tantalizes me
With cries of innocent revelry.
Yet, I wait
With apprehension, I wait
Visions of being consumed
And its insatiable appetite,
A oneness, yet separate,
A restless peacefulness,
Unsettling.
It beckons me
And I hesitate.
I hesitate with uncertainty
And remain haunted
It surrounds me
Its lifeless form embraces me,
Visions of being consumed
By its insatiable appetite,
Haunt me.
A menacing appearance,
It fills me with mysterious wonder on the inside
On the outside
A cold foreboding.
It beckons me
With sounds of calming resolve
And tantalizes me
With cries of innocent revelry.
Yet, I wait
With apprehension, I wait
Visions of being consumed
And its insatiable appetite,
A oneness, yet separate,
A restless peacefulness,
Unsettling.
It beckons me
And I hesitate.
I hesitate with uncertainty
And remain haunted
Thursday, March 14, 2013
DAWN
by Theresa Lovelace
She rises out of the ashes of dusk,
Like a phoenix
Overshadowing all life within her reach.
She spreads her newness
to the edge of dark
Showering freshness
Over night's stale remains.
Dawn has risen
And night has died
As unwillingly and sorrowfully
As a defeated cheetah.
Dawn
Aggressive, predictable, confident
Like a victorious warrior.
She rises out of the ashes of dusk,
Like a phoenix
Overshadowing all life within her reach.
She spreads her newness
to the edge of dark
Showering freshness
Over night's stale remains.
Dawn has risen
And night has died
As unwillingly and sorrowfully
As a defeated cheetah.
Dawn
Aggressive, predictable, confident
Like a victorious warrior.
Friday, February 8, 2013
A PORTRAIT OF LOVE
by Theresa Lovelace
He gently laid the canvass down
And visualized a scene,
Unblemished by the wrath of time,
Unscathed by what's obscene.
He chose each subject carefully
He chose them one by one.
And then to each, He gave a niche
Leaving out not one.
He painted an expanse above
Enrobed in majesty.
A fiery sun, a glimmering moon
And stars placed skillfully.
The air was clean and fresh for all
To breathe with no alarm.
Sparkling water, crystal clear
And causing no one harm.
Feathered creatures spread their wings
To fly the highest heights,
To soar through the air with the greatest of ease
Creating a wondrous sight.
And those that walked on all fours
He sketched in their domain,
With towering mountains and rolling hills,
Valleys and deserts and plains.
He dabbed those earthy colors on,
Warm shades of greens and browns
And upon the highest mountain tops
He painted snow white crowns.
The creatures of the ocean
As they frolicked in the deep,
Were portrayed in rich bold colors
As they quietly ruled the sea.
Delicate blossoms of every hue
Were placed strategically.
Their shades attractive to the eye
To please aesthetically.
Luscious fruits in fine detail
Were placed on vines and trees
With shades of orange, reds and golds
Done artistically.
With sensitive thought and gentle care
He painted this portrait of love,
Sisters and brothers hand in hand
The painter, our God above.
He looked at His painting and He was pleased
By the beauty and peace it displayed.
But soon a tear could be seen from His eye
And it slowly ran down His face.
For this was the scene that He visualized
Yes, this was His perfect plan
Soon to be blemished by the wrath of time
Scathed by the ravages of man.
Copyright 1995
He gently laid the canvass down
And visualized a scene,
Unblemished by the wrath of time,
Unscathed by what's obscene.
He chose each subject carefully
He chose them one by one.
And then to each, He gave a niche
Leaving out not one.
He painted an expanse above
Enrobed in majesty.
A fiery sun, a glimmering moon
And stars placed skillfully.
The air was clean and fresh for all
To breathe with no alarm.
Sparkling water, crystal clear
And causing no one harm.
Feathered creatures spread their wings
To fly the highest heights,
To soar through the air with the greatest of ease
Creating a wondrous sight.
And those that walked on all fours
He sketched in their domain,
With towering mountains and rolling hills,
Valleys and deserts and plains.
He dabbed those earthy colors on,
Warm shades of greens and browns
And upon the highest mountain tops
He painted snow white crowns.
The creatures of the ocean
As they frolicked in the deep,
Were portrayed in rich bold colors
As they quietly ruled the sea.
Delicate blossoms of every hue
Were placed strategically.
Their shades attractive to the eye
To please aesthetically.
Luscious fruits in fine detail
Were placed on vines and trees
With shades of orange, reds and golds
Done artistically.
With sensitive thought and gentle care
He painted this portrait of love,
Sisters and brothers hand in hand
The painter, our God above.
He looked at His painting and He was pleased
By the beauty and peace it displayed.
But soon a tear could be seen from His eye
And it slowly ran down His face.
For this was the scene that He visualized
Yes, this was His perfect plan
Soon to be blemished by the wrath of time
Scathed by the ravages of man.
Copyright 1995
Sunday, January 20, 2013
THAT OLD WHITE-HAIRED LADY
by Theresa Lovelace
That old white-haired lady
She sits there
in that old aged chair,
The one with stains of her mistakes
and traces of her misfortune.
She gazes out her window,
the clouded one
That hides her pain and masks her fear.
As she hums a familiar melody
that soothes her soul
and quiets her restless heart,
She's reminded of days gone by.
That old white-haired lady.
She holds on to a yellow hankerchief
filled with memories and drenched with tears
of happiness and sorrow.
That old white-haired lady
She gazes out her window
And still hopes.
That old white-haired lady
She sits there
in that old aged chair,
The one with stains of her mistakes
and traces of her misfortune.
She gazes out her window,
the clouded one
That hides her pain and masks her fear.
As she hums a familiar melody
that soothes her soul
and quiets her restless heart,
She's reminded of days gone by.
That old white-haired lady.
She holds on to a yellow hankerchief
filled with memories and drenched with tears
of happiness and sorrow.
That old white-haired lady
She gazes out her window
And still hopes.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A POEM 'BOUT MY LIFE
by Theresa Lovelace
One of these days
I'm gonna write a poem 'bout my life.
It will be a sweeping epic,
Saturated with episodes of my struggles as a woman
Single, black, mother
It'll teem with fiery words-
Betrayal, humiliation, pain
And will overflow with triumphant words-
of pride, accomplishment, strength.
I'm gonna tell my seering story
A tale of loss innocence, broken spirits, hidden fear
A saga of courage, fortitude, love
I'm gonna tell it all.
Shadowy figures
who have left their indelible mark
will be put to shame.
And I will name each hero whose path crossed mine
Their memories still echoing trust, encouragement and love.
And when I tell my story
It will be known
That I single-handedly conquered my enemies
each and every one
And that I was victorious.
Yeah, one of these days
I'm gonna do it
I'm gonna write a poem 'bout my life.
Copyright 1995
One of these days
I'm gonna write a poem 'bout my life.
It will be a sweeping epic,
Saturated with episodes of my struggles as a woman
Single, black, mother
It'll teem with fiery words-
Betrayal, humiliation, pain
And will overflow with triumphant words-
of pride, accomplishment, strength.
I'm gonna tell my seering story
A tale of loss innocence, broken spirits, hidden fear
A saga of courage, fortitude, love
I'm gonna tell it all.
Shadowy figures
who have left their indelible mark
will be put to shame.
And I will name each hero whose path crossed mine
Their memories still echoing trust, encouragement and love.
And when I tell my story
It will be known
That I single-handedly conquered my enemies
each and every one
And that I was victorious.
Yeah, one of these days
I'm gonna do it
I'm gonna write a poem 'bout my life.
Copyright 1995
Monday, November 12, 2012
YOUR WORDS
by Theresa Lovelace
Like a knife
Piercing through warm flesh,
Your words are sharp.
They hit hard,
Like an iron hammer
Pounding a nail.
A marksman takes aim
And never misses his target.
So you, a verbal marksman, take aim
You hit where it hurts
Never missing your target.
Copyright 1994
Like a knife
Piercing through warm flesh,
Your words are sharp.
They hit hard,
Like an iron hammer
Pounding a nail.
A marksman takes aim
And never misses his target.
So you, a verbal marksman, take aim
You hit where it hurts
Never missing your target.
Copyright 1994
Sunday, October 7, 2012
THE BRIDGE
by Theresa Lovelace
It glistened in the sunlight
And with the masses of passersby
there was a solitude
A loneliness that seem to go unexplained.
Below was a reflection of emptiness
filled with tears of yesterday's tomorrows
And as sounds of distant laughter permeated the lull
It glistened in the sunlight.
An eerieness hovered over the breathtaking expanse
As it stretched from then to now
with a multitude of unknown destinations
nestled in its breast.
I walked along the bridge that day
Overwhelmed by the loudness of its lonely silence
A deafening silence
And I too felt a loneliness
That to this day has gone unexplained.
Copyright 1994
It glistened in the sunlight
And with the masses of passersby
there was a solitude
A loneliness that seem to go unexplained.
Below was a reflection of emptiness
filled with tears of yesterday's tomorrows
And as sounds of distant laughter permeated the lull
It glistened in the sunlight.
An eerieness hovered over the breathtaking expanse
As it stretched from then to now
with a multitude of unknown destinations
nestled in its breast.
I walked along the bridge that day
Overwhelmed by the loudness of its lonely silence
A deafening silence
And I too felt a loneliness
That to this day has gone unexplained.
Copyright 1994
Sunday, September 23, 2012
NIGHT SKY
by Theresa Lovelace
Beautiful velvet tapestry
Studded with glimmering gems
Draped over the stillness of the earth below.
Can I tell you my secrets?
Majestic guardian
There in your regal greatness
You wait for the day
Then fade beyond the distant hills
When she finally finds her way
Will you dry my tears when they fall?
Keeper of the planets
Companion to the moon
Silent though you speak
Can we escape to your mighty space and hide in your embrace?
Copyright 1994
Beautiful velvet tapestry
Studded with glimmering gems
Draped over the stillness of the earth below.
Can I tell you my secrets?
Majestic guardian
There in your regal greatness
You wait for the day
Then fade beyond the distant hills
When she finally finds her way
Will you dry my tears when they fall?
Keeper of the planets
Companion to the moon
Silent though you speak
Can we escape to your mighty space and hide in your embrace?
Copyright 1994
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