Tenderness, sweetness
Is all I can think
Til we meet again
Again.
Journeys are bold
Excursions wondrous sure
But nothing will be nothing
Until I see and you hold me.
Then and only then
It will surely be
Tenderness, sweetness
For me.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
Sadly, secret murky tiled
No hope, destitute merciless bile
Twist, turn fight and bat
Get to where the strength is at
Mess, mired deep down in
No way open can’t begin
Mutter, sputter rage and fume
Makes no difference
The rose still blooms.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
Can I fix it?
Will I be the one
That’s the hero
In a situation
That should not be?
Crushed and miserable
Full of doubt
Must move forward
Cast it out.
Smile with gratitude
Mean it
See it radiate
All about.
My strength and smile
Will cast misery out.
Can I fix it?
I have no doubt.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
May my soul find the secrets
Hidden deep in my heart
May the pleasure never
Ever, ever depart.
May I find justice
For the things unfairly done
And may the sun shine
On all those I love
Each and everyone.
May I find the strength
To stand up straight
And not waiver
In the thoughts
That can make me see
Greatness
Greatness in all of thee.
Yes
May my soul believe
And see
All that is wondrous
In this secret place
Called me.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
There was a time when we were old
We’d laugh and cry as life did unfold
No remorse for things gone by
Only clamour for a sweet
Haunting lullaby.
Ancient wrinkles on a child’s face
Laughing, crying filled with grace
No honour lost, no rushing pace
No deadline met, only loving grace
Masking love on a loving face.
In a time gone by we may have met
Laughed and cried, no heartache wept
What a wondrous thing
When we were young and therefore old
In a time when we spun together
Treasures made of gold.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2012
Why are we here? Where did we come from? Where will we go?
Have we been here before?
All questions that have been asked for a extremely long time.
Does my dog, my cat or horse ask the same questions? Does the deer wandering thru the woods think of these things? Does the robin sitting on her nest of eggs?
I wonder…
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2012
Gentle souls gently resting
Smiling faces greeting burdened souls
Open hearts embracing those that need
Gently raising gentle souls.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2014
Available at PatriceClarkson.com
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Based on work at patriceclarkson.wordpress.com.
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