Camelia

How rich and heavy blooms..

Filled with sweet perfume..

Abundant petals pool and pile..

Beneath your branches all the while.

Buds emerge and flowers fall.

A sweet cascade of color all.

Dark green your leaves,

And firm your bark.

To these blooms the bees do hark.

So lovely, fragrant southern flower..

Grace and beauty in every hour.  

Hidden Treasure

we mourn the loss of things

little do we know

that in the loss of these

greater things may grow

the time and tides of life

bring joys but also strife

if this current we should fight

our place can not be right

Once

once upon a dream

I thought I heard you

in the hall

I rose to look

saw you not

nothing there at all

searched through every corner

looked behind each door

looked inside the closets

paced and walked the floor

how could you not be here

so terribly unfair

how could you not be here

when you are everywhere

Sorrow

Oh! Sorrow, Sorrow, little boy, 

Who cries so hard for his lost toy!

A Different Kind of Suicide

I stare into darkness, Thinking of you.

I wonder, was leaving the Right thing to do?

I stare into nothing afraid And alone.

My only wish is that I can Go home.

I stare into darkness, not afraid anymore,

As the angel of loneliness knocks on my door.

I welcome it in.

I realize I'm crying.

Inside my soul a part of me's dying.

Only the memories linger inside.

This is a different kind of suicide.

Pamela

See me?

Look Closer.

What Do you see?

Do you see who I am?

Who you want me to be?

Do you see something bad?

Do you see something good?

Is the line between both to be understood?

Who am I?

A person, a child, a mother..

A dreamer, a poet, a woman, a lover...

We all are much more than at first we may seem.

We all need to love.

We all need to dream.