Broken Dreams

THERE is grey in your hair.
Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath
When you are passing;
But maybe some old gaffer mutters a blessing
Because it was your prayer
Recovered him upon the bed of death.
For your sole sake -- that all heart's ache have known,
And given to others all heart's ache,
From meagre girlhood's putting on
Burdensome beauty -- for your sole sake
Heaven has put away the stroke of her doom,
So great her portion in that peace you make
By merely walking in a room.
Your beauty can but leave among us
Vague memories, nothing but memories.
A young man when the old men are done talking
Will say to an old man, 'Tell me of that lady
The poet stubborn with his passion sang us
When age might well have chilled his blood.
'Vague memories, nothing but memories,
But in the grave all, all, shall be renewed.
The certainty that I shall see that lady
Leaning or standing or walking
In the first loveliness of womanhood,
And with the fervour of my youthful eyes,
Has set me muttering like a fool.
You are more beautiful
than any one, And yet your body had a flaw:
Your small hands were not beautiful,
And I am afraid that you will run
And paddle to the wrist In that mysterious,
always brimming lake
Where those
What have obeyed the holy law paddle and are perfect.
Leave unchanged The hands that I have kissed,
For old sake's sake. The last stroke of midnight dies.
All day in the one chair
From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I haveranged
In rambling talk with an image of air:
Vague memories, nothing but memories.

By William Butler Yeats

The Waiting Child

The waiting child sat,
pain and anger in her eyes.

With a broken heart,
she sits and wonders why.

Why did this happen to her?

The waiting child, covered in
dirt from head to toe, wonders
if there is anyone who will love her.

With tears running down her face,
she wakes from her slumber.

The waiting child remembers with a smile.
The couple down the hall who claims her
for themselves.

The waiting child now sighs happily as she
snuggles in her bed, dreaming of happy
times that soon will come.


Rose Corbin

Gonna Lay Down My Burdens

Gone like the wind

Wet like the rain

the soul cries when in pain

When cut we bleed

if ignored it festers

with life comes burdens

Are they really burdens?

Or is it called problems?

When we live life problems arise,

if we don't handle our problems,

then they become burdens.

Ask the Lord to help direct you,

to guide you and to give you strength.

Gonna lay down my burdens

Gone like the wind

Wet like the rain

the soul cries when in pain

Rose Corbin

THE WORDS

She heard the angry voices, the fighting, the hitting and
the verbal abuse. She heard the tears she cried. Then
she heard these words… “Trust in the Lord with all our
heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all
your ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct your paths.”

Then she heard a tiny piece of his heart break.

She heard the lies, the empty promises “it won’t happen
again, I’ll never hit you again, I love you … it really didn’t
mean anything…I’m sorry.” Then she heard these words…
“Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and depart
from evil. It will be health to your flesh, and strength to
your bones.”

Then she heard a little more of his heart break.

She heard the words “he’s cheating on her;” heard the
whispers “she’s so dumb she doesn’t even know” heard
the snickers from the women who seduced him into their
beds. Then she heard these words “who ever commits
adultery with a woman lacks understanding; he who
does so destroys his own soul”.

Then she heard even more of his heart break.

She heard the words “please forgive me I try to stop
cheating but I just can’t stop”. She heard the words
“I never meant to hurt you, can’t you see that I really
love you?” Then she heard these words “The fear of the
Lord is to hate evil; pride and arrogance and the evil way
and the perverse mouth I hate. Counsel is mine and
sound wisdom; I am understanding, I have strength.”

Then she heard his heart break in two.

He heard the words “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Then he realized instead of killing her with a broken
heart; she instead killed him with a broken heart… her
faith in the Lord and herself made her heart stronger
than he could ever believe.

He heard the flowers hitting the casket… but he could
not hear any crying… then he realized she had cried
all her tears out when he was alive. Now he was gone
she has no more tears to give…then he heard…nothing more.

Taste My Love

Come in it's been a while.
Come in and taste my love.

I've missed you.

I hope you can feel it when you taste my love.
I know it's making your mouth water.
I know you can't wait.
The smell is driving you wild!

Come on and taste my love.

I know you love me I can feel it.
Why are you hesitating?

Come on and taste my love.

I made your favorite food!!

So come on and taste my love!

By
Rose Corbin

Sympathy

I know what the caged bird feels.
Ah me, when the sun is bright on
the upland slopes, when the wind blows
soft through the springing grass and
the river floats like a sheet of glass,
when the first bird sings and the first bud ops,
and the faint perfume from its chalice steals.

I know what the caged bird feels.

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
till its blood is red on the cruel bars,
for he must fly back to his perch and
cling when he fain would be on the bow aswing.
And the blood still throbs in the old, old scars
and they pulse again with a keener sting.

I know why he beats his wing.

I know why the caged bird sings.

Ah, me, when its wings are bruised and its bosom sore.
It beats its bars and would be free.
It's not a carol of joy or glee, but a prayer
that it sends from its heart's deep core,
a plea that upward to heaven it flings.

I know why the caged bird sings.

Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)

Brown Penny

I like this poem, it is whimsical. William Butler Yeats is one
of my many favorite poets, hope you will like this one and
others that I will post later.

I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,
'And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.
'Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

William Butler Yeats

Don't Judge Me

I can see the mockery in your eyes
when you look at me.
I do you no harm.

Don't judge me.

I can see the scorn on your face.
You don't know anything about me.

Don't judge me.

I can feel the hate in you.
I didn't know.

Don't judge me.

What hurts me the most is
the sadness in your eyes.
He's leaving you for me.

I didn't know.

Don't judge me.

By Rose Corbin