poetry

Bridges, a poem by Lorraine Stark

Bridges



Invisible are the bonds that
Bind our hearts they require
No voice nor signed document
To prove it
It’s been there always from
The beginning no interpretation
Required it’s all the security
We need to cross every bridge
Together holding hands

Our love was there from the
Beginning no interpretation
Required we have all the security
We need to cross each bridge
Together, embracing time


By Lorraine Stark

Image via Unsplash @pattybphoto

Designs, a poem by Lorraine Stark

Designs



Mosaic patterns by leaves that fall
Brighten the parched earth from summer’s heat
A silent signal noticed by all
Crisp autumn air and apples picked sweet
Beneath moonlight the owls do call
As lovers engage their own beat
Piles of leaves and giggles can be heard
Above the mating songs of birds


By Lorraine Stark

Image via Unsplash @anthonyrossbach

Bouquets of Promise

Bouquets of Promise

She’s as silent as
a bride walking down
the aisle, guests whisper
how beautiful she looks,
afraid to disturb the
moment of her passing

Beneath her veil tears
are visible in her eyes
they are not caused by
sadness, they come from
bliss

For she symbolizes love,
hope, beauty and peace
equal to the grace of spring’s
bouquets of promise

By Lorraine Stark

march bouquet redbuds and hellebores 2.jpg

Glass Spring

Glass Spring

On one American morning, a virus came ashore, it does not discriminate,

it knocks on anyone's door

On one American morning, this invisible beast made humans its feast

On one American morning, our country decided to fight against the pain

and sorrow, now a familiar site

On one American morning,  we will make this pandemic leave no forwarding

address

On one American morning, together we are strong, we are America we will achieve success

On one American morning, again, we will resume our daily routines, and not

forget, anything can change life in a minute

On one American morning, we will defeat the unknown

On one American morning the sun will rise, just like before

it will greet the young and old

On one American morning, again the alarm clocks will ring, school buses

will roll and a glass wall will not divide us anymore

By Lorraine Stark

Image via Unsplash @anshu18

Image via Unsplash @anshu18

Gardening Gloves

Gardening Gloves

Leaves of winter
once a carpet left by
Lady Fall have since
been swept away leaving
breathing space for Lady
Spring and her display
before Lady Summer
arrives and tests the
toughest plants and
flowers in my garden as
they look forward to
receiving the first leaf of
fall again, thus signifying
another growing season
will soon cease and only
then shall I place my
gardening gloves away
in storage.

By Lorraine Stark

troy bilt (2).jpg

Breakfast Surprise

Breakfast Surprise


I wonder if you
Can munch
On a bowl of
Captain Crunch
While dripping milk
Wearing pajamas
Made of silk
Strolling the aisles
Admiring the jewels
Inside a Tiffany
Silently wondering
Which diamond
Says me
And when I was asked
May I help you please
I inquired back
Does Tiffanys ever
Put a promotional
Surprise in
Boxes of Captain Crunch
                           
Just like Cracker Jacks
                                
As the sales person
Uppity and all
Walked away from me
I really wanted to
Give her a punch
So right then and there
Upon a sparkling counter
In a Tiffany’s I emptied
           
My box of cereal to see
If my Captain Crunch
Had a surprise for me
I knew that morning
It had more crunch
What a great breakfast
This turned out to be

  
By Lorraine Stark

Childhood Sweethearts

Childhood Sweethearts

I remember in a red and pink box
tiny Valentine candies shaped in
hearts.
They came in shades of yellow,
pink and lavender too, each one had a
different message printed on its top
perfectly written for you.
The excitement would build til
it was Valentine's Day at last and
in school that morning hidden inside
your desk the anticipation would
build and you couldn't wait to pass
to the love of your life then, your
sentiments and when he smiled
in return you knew you'd love him
forever because that box of sweet
hearts could never be wrong when
you were young.

By Lorraine Stark