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Rena Leanne Erickson


Lamoille, IL, US

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The River Bank


Rena Leanne Erickson

water the color,
of mud...

Hearing the fish,
the water chug...

The scent of sludge ,
in the air,

waves crushing,with,
out a budge...

Boats, bobbbers,poles...
their holes...

Fisher-man in revine,
past there toes...

The sound of pounding,
from the falls...

Birds chirp,mating,

Bread,corn flake,
dough balls...

Snags of grass,
instead of bass...

This, is what the
river is...

My Dad would bring
me here,
when I was a kid...

My those days are
some-what gone!

He past a-way,
and carried on...

Now, my son goes,
he's twenty one!

He sit's where I
use to...

I can't believe,
the way he grew!
that's why I wrote,
this poem for you!

The War


Rena Leanne Erickson

Our poor soldiers
may await in death
my heart and mind
alone can not express

How much they roam
in sadness
loneiness they
must feel in there soul
how this war is out of

Desperation with no goal
having to fight
and kill
yet to have pride
in what they instill
sure plain madness

While the emney take

All the fears
tears we shed
of the remaining dead

We have to prepare our
selves for what lie

Hopely we can pray
find deep thoughtful
words to say

For the ones
that have gone astray
there never far from
our part

Because we have loved
them from there very

All though our skies
may look quite gray
we must take faith
they will return
some day

~Write With Your Heart~


Rena Leanne Erickson

Write from your heart
this is where it will
share it with everyone
it is your part
say what you mean
with feeling
rather it's real
or make-believing

It's not hard to express
your hardships sucess
all is gratitude
from which you guess
sometimes love,friendship,

True to what your being
yes then others will
endure for what your

It's sometimes a place
we all are greiving
it's just a little
to even the score

But as you use it
you will adore
just small pieces
that people will

Others it will bore
who cares it your
it's your emotions
you are re-leaving