Pressed Collection

Pressed

Pressed I am

In between

Here and there 

Like a grape

Before the wine,

Pressed

To Be

I want so much

        To be

Like gold in your Hand

But, it seems

My lot is iron and wood

Is this why

I

Get slammed into the earth

So oft?

And will I

        See

The harvest

From this broken earth?

Sleep

Next season

I will sleep

And not weep

Perhaps?

Or will the curtain part

And I step through

To be with You

No sleep to need at last?

Into The Wind

I lean into the wind

And hope

That when it subsides at last

You will not drop me

But hold me fast

Clinging

A stranger, I

In this ole’ world

But then why

I ask

Must I get so attached?

Doubting

Would that I

When face to face

Would see

Ah me!

Acceptance, love and grace

Misunderstanding

The cracks in the mirror

Made all a-tilt

Each shard showed me part

But which one was you? 

Long Winter

Long and cold

and bare…

They stand

Empty upon

The mount;

Leaves all gone.

Branches shiver

In the snowy fray-

No matter, Cold,

How long you stay

The leaves will

        Come again

God made them

That way. 

In The Shadow

Sing, Soul,

And shout;

Uncurl and

Look about.

The slats let

In the light

That covered

You in your fright.

And stepping back

I saw

The light that shone

Came between His fingers;

His Hand had kept me safe.

Opposing Views

The thunder spoke

And shook the place.

I, elated

He, deflated

I Opened windows –

wanted to hear better.

But he chose bed slats

Near the creaky heater.

Toby

One ear floppy

The other straight

Eyes, liquid gold

And velvet chin

His tongue is rough

Never gets enough

Not love him?

T’would be a sin!

Defiant

Cry did I

To fight with you,

But what’s a mother to do?

I watch you now

Sleep sound and how

I wish I could reach you.