A SPECIAL IMPORTANCE
There is a box in the darkness of my closet.
I don’t have to pull it out; I know what is there.
In the bottom of that box,
Covered over by the tattered ribbons and the report cards,
The diploma and the yellow stained graduation gown,
Is a book.
It is a book filled with the memories of a part of my life
That I never thought would be in the past.
Your face is in that book.
Yes, I remember you.
I didn’t know your name, but I saw you.
I passed you in the hall, and I glanced your way for a moment,
But I went on by.
You may have been the golden boy,
The star of every team the school had.
You may have been the quiet one who no one quite understood.
You may have even been the obnoxious one that no one liked.
Whoever you were, you were there.
When my life has finally slowed down,
And I am forced to think, instead, of the life behind me;
When my mind wanders back to a time suddenly very important to me;
When I remember my youth,
You were there.
And for the first time, but not the last,
You are important to me.
(I wrote this during my senior year in high school. I
showed it to a girl in one of my classes, not knowing that
she was on the yearbook committee. She wanted to put
this poem in the year book; but I wouldn't let her. I was
too afraid that someone might make fun of the sentiment
or find some other fault.)
DO NOT FEEL ALONE
How lonely you look, little toy,
On the floor beneath the bed.
Do you know that someone is watching,
Little bear made with tenderness?
Little bear stuffed with feathers…and love?
You seem confused.
Each night tiny hands seek you out
And pull you to that young breast.
You feel the comfort of a tender embrace.
But the minutes tick by in the darkness.
The loving grip soon loosens,
And you drop to the floor idle…forgotten.
Do not feel alone,
Little bear made with tenderness.
Little bear stuffed with feathers…and love.
Tomorrow the sun will shine on the closed eyes.
The child will wake,
And the tiny hands will reach for you again
With love.
(This was published in Southern State Community College's
1988 "Expressions" publication.)
GRANDMOTHER
Soft is the breast of a grandmother.
Loving is her embrace.
Cheering is the laugh of a grandmother.
Welcome, her face.
Christian is the song-singing grandmother
Telling of streets lined with gold.
Sad is the fact that a grandmother
Grows old.
So taken for granted is a grandmother.
So forgotten in our daily living.
So trusting is a soft-hearted grandmother.
And Forgiving.
Sad is the death of a grandmother.
So unexpected and unplanned.
Lonely are the closed eyes of a grandmother.
Cold is her hand.
Justice is becoming a grandmother.
Past all of the young years and good.
So remembered is our own grandmother.
And so understood.
(This was published in Southern State Community College's
1988 "Expressions" publication. It has been changed
quite a bit since then, however.)
THE DAYDREAMER
I sit behind you now
Studying the curves of your back
Beneath the cotton shirt.
How perfect and strong you seem.
One arm is draped carlessly
Over the pew beside you.
What I want with all of my might
At this moment
Is to feel your arms around me.
Just a hug.
Just to know that you care for me.
Is that too much to ask?
How softly your dark brown hair
Falls onto your tan neck.
When you turn your head,
I can see your strong face
With that same blank expression.
What I want with all of my might
At this moment
Is to see those lips form a smile
In my direction.
Just a smile.
Just to know that you care for me.
Is that too much to ask?
I think you know that I am watching.
I seems that I can see your eyes
Straining to see from the corners
Whether or not I am studying you.
I am.
What are you thinking right now?
Your dark eyes hold such a look
Of determination.
If I am thinking only of you,
Could it be that your thoughts are of me?
Could it be?
When the service is over, will you look at me
And smile, and perhaps even say “Hello”?
What I want with all of my might
At this moment
Is to hear you say “Hello”.
Just to say "Hello."
Just to know that you care for me.
Is that too much to ask?
(This was published in Southern State Community College's
1988 "Expressions" publication. I used a pen name, because
I was such a coward.)
