File #1087: "Mosaic_Spring_2004_9.jpg"
Description
Girl That's Lost Her Gleam
Virginia R. Hampton
At one time she had a sparkle that was blinding
Her heart danced and her face sang
Lately the twinkle in her eye is hidden
And everybody knows why.
She picks up her heavy head each morning
Just to face another storm.
With a plaster smile she carries on as the norm.
When the sun has fallen and the stars arise,
she sits alone with paper, pen and cigarette as she somberly cries.
With a heavy heart her head it's the pillow
After hours of thinking her tearful eyes finally close
She camouflages her sadness, but everybody knows.
Someone has drained her shine
She's run out of song
and the twinkle is replaced by tears that flow a mile long.
She fears the night of being alone
When the phone rings there's no one home
She looks in the mirror at the reflection of pain
will bitterness take over and leave her with a stain?
She's broken.
Literary Club Poetry Contest Winner
Beverly Breezes
Karen Carroll
It's nearly three and soon all the measuring will be done
By those of you and me who count and measure life
In increments of time and matter.
Carved stone stands erect, awaiting what was.
If there was any measuring done
When she and I were free,
She measured me on scales of growth and need
And tried to fill it here and there
With what she knew and felt and dreamed.
They'll bury Beverly at three.
The flowing river whispers.
The sun warms.
A Beverly breeze brushes my face.
So when I measure, it will be with the scales she gave to me.
When I count, it will be with the breezes blowing back on me
From all she thought and felt, every dream she dreamed
That energized the universe and feeds infinity.
Oh, we were friends and she still feeds me
With river whispers, sun warmth, and Beverly breezes.
Literary Club Poetry Contest Winner
Virginia R. Hampton
At one time she had a sparkle that was blinding
Her heart danced and her face sang
Lately the twinkle in her eye is hidden
And everybody knows why.
She picks up her heavy head each morning
Just to face another storm.
With a plaster smile she carries on as the norm.
When the sun has fallen and the stars arise,
she sits alone with paper, pen and cigarette as she somberly cries.
With a heavy heart her head it's the pillow
After hours of thinking her tearful eyes finally close
She camouflages her sadness, but everybody knows.
Someone has drained her shine
She's run out of song
and the twinkle is replaced by tears that flow a mile long.
She fears the night of being alone
When the phone rings there's no one home
She looks in the mirror at the reflection of pain
will bitterness take over and leave her with a stain?
She's broken.
Literary Club Poetry Contest Winner
Beverly Breezes
Karen Carroll
It's nearly three and soon all the measuring will be done
By those of you and me who count and measure life
In increments of time and matter.
Carved stone stands erect, awaiting what was.
If there was any measuring done
When she and I were free,
She measured me on scales of growth and need
And tried to fill it here and there
With what she knew and felt and dreamed.
They'll bury Beverly at three.
The flowing river whispers.
The sun warms.
A Beverly breeze brushes my face.
So when I measure, it will be with the scales she gave to me.
When I count, it will be with the breezes blowing back on me
From all she thought and felt, every dream she dreamed
That energized the universe and feeds infinity.
Oh, we were friends and she still feeds me
With river whispers, sun warmth, and Beverly breezes.
Literary Club Poetry Contest Winner