How poetic can you be? Write a short poem about what you see

Your Pictures

I will not burn your pictures, I will not throw them away, They will be my only memories of a love that did not stay. I will not regret our time together, I will not cry anymore, The numbness took hold my heart as you walked out the door.

The smiles we shared, the laughter we once knew, Captured in the visions of paper and some glue. A tender touch held in a sparkle-eyed dream, Forever, my heart ceased to mean anything.

Your picture still hangs over the mantle in the den, Perhaps someday I will forgive you, and love again. Where once I held you in my arms, now time takes its toll, As I look into your eyes I will remember never again to lose my soul.

© Cynthia Clark

Sat the camera up just right

No fight

I'm over those misters

Look here

See the pictures

I'm shining now, lights will blind them

Wow.

Wedding Photo

I look at a black and white photograph

of my parents’ wedding

The picture is of my mother’s nuclear family

which was taken a year before I was born.

My mother wears her peau de soir gown.

My grandparents stand nervously off to one side.

My two aunts look at the camera.

They are positioned by the photographer.

The younger one seated in front

of the elder one who is one standing.

The standing aunt is pregnant with

my soon to be born cousin.

She smiles radiantly.

My uncle stands in his mourning suit

looking very uncomfortable.

The picture tells a tale of family

unsure of changes to come.

�

Shimmer and reflection scattered

I see the melding of the past with the present.

Small pieces of life held in my hands

Photos left out

From a bygone love affair

So long ago lost in time

His hair was as golden sa5nd

His eyes as green as the sea

When the Sun brushes over the water

His lips as tender dreams

His heart as a loving reality

Beaming from him

My soul was not his

I was dead of love for him

I loved another

Who loved him

Title: Lovers Trangle

Instant Nostalgia,

memories haunting like ghosts.

Subconscious deceit

Old Memories

The photos are withered and faded, the cover is tattered and torn,

Many memories it holds, many a family, many deaths many born

Her wrinkled fingers slowly turn each page of days gone by

She can no longer control the tears that fall from her eyes.

All that remains are the memories for no one visits anymore,

So many years alone she forgot what she searches for.

Old and wrinkled now the story of her life in pictures,

On the table they will remain a permanent fixture.

© Cynthia Clark

A picture

A window to the soul

A memory never forgotten

I miss you