The Web Poetry Corner

Mary Etta Metcalf

of

Sciotoville, OH, US

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Before it Knows

by

Mary Etta Metcalf

i sit here crying unable to hold back the tears
he cant make up his mind about us he vacillates
between wanting me and afraid of letting it happen
love can tear ones heart to pieces before it knows

i have given him plenty of time to make up his mind
even to the point of declaring myself to him hopefully
i thought it might help him decide he is still thinking
love can tear ones heart to pieces before it knows

when we are together it feels so right i want him so
he holds me looks into my eyes the kisses like passion
when he is gone once more he is thinking my tears fall
love can tear ones heart to pieces before it knows

i am giving him all the time he wants to think i pulled away
i have not heard from him yet and the tears once more fall
it will be so hard for me to live without him but im a survivor
love can tear ones heart to pieces before it knows

A Cozy Little Room

by

Mary Etta Metcalf

deep within lies a place for my mother
a place where she is no longer a victim
alzheimers cant find her anymore
within my heart is a cozy little room

she is whole she is young she is happy
there she resides in peaceful bliss
no more pain no more fears to worry her
within my heart is a cozy little room

yes i have enshrined my human mother
accepted her human ways she tried her best
gave her a place of honor for all she wanted to be
within my heart is a cozy little room

she was not perfect she knew this to be true
but she gave it a shot her very best she knew
and for that i honor her for i inherited her ways
within my heart is a cozy little room

she was my mother and i love her still
felt her regrets at her mistakes
felt her pride when she knew she did well
within my heart is a cozy little room

she didnt know the legacy she left me
but i am proud to be her daughter
knowing she was only human doing her best
within my heart is a cozy little room

Loves Devotion

by

Mary Etta Metcalf

gently i touch your brow as you sleep so soundly
the love i feel can never be completely expressed
looking upon your face with so much love felt i cry
how gentle your touches are how soft your caresses
it is loves devotion that i now possess

the love i feel now will never waiver you are my life
to lose you now would devastate who i have become
to be close to you see your smile listen to your words
watch your deep concentration as you read your book
it is loves devotion that i now possess

seeing you with new eyes ones that are open wide awake
knowing you will always be by my side and i by yours
these are the days and years i treasure the most now
seeing new places together experiencing new pleasures
it is loves devotion that i now possess

sharing a life full of love and adventure never to part again
for all the lessons i learned the hard way the appreciation
now to dance away through the rest of my life with the man i love
...........Thank You Dear God, For The Second Chance...............
it it loves devotion that i now possess

Grumpy Old Man

by

Mary Etta Metcalf

i know his hearts desires i know from whence they come
deep within his heart and soul it rises to be acknowledged
where once we were warriors time has mellowed us both
he is now only a grumpy old man whose bite has weakened

i still know him i still feel him for you see we are soulmates
there is fire inside that still burns for each of us we cant deny
there is no running away anymore the love will always be
he is now only a grumpy old man whose bite has weakened

our tempers flare then they cool once more stars are shared
we are so alike we look into each others eyes we see ourselves
we can try to hide it but the heart reminds us we are soulmates
he is now only a grumpy old man whose bite has weakened

to stay mad at him is not possible i compromise to ease the moment
he may not always accept the times senior moments tend to rule
but we are aging at the same pace still talking the same language
he is now only a grumpy old man whose bite has weakened

Does Our Spirit Fly Away

by

Mary Etta Metcalf

i had a dream but it meant naught i had a vision that failed to come true
my heart cried for the loss it felt not understood why should it feel that way
i stood on the banks feeling the pain wondering if it meant anything at all
do we survive from the losses of life or does our spirit fly away

i saw what life held in store for me i fought it i denied it but couldnt stop it
it taunted me with my visions of doom leading up to my demise i cried
i felt alone no one to comfort my aching soul life can be cruel only in dreams
do we survive from the losses of life or does our spirit fly away

are we ignored for the words we say can anyone see the magic there was
must ones feelings not count in this world of self while others slowly wilt away
ideas to disappear never more to be because one didnt understand the words
do we survive from the losses of life or does our spirit fly away

if we could then words should be allowed emotions to be free shoulders offered
instead backs are turned words become meaningless feelings dashed upon the rocks
leaving ones feelings diminished not worth the ideas flowing from the mind tears falling
do we survive from the losses of life or does our spirit fly away

Our Twilight Hours

by

Mary Etta Metcalf

when night falls as we lay in our beds just before sleep overcomes
our mind wanders into worlds we only imagine thoughts flutter
seeing possibilities of things to come of dreams that could be
our twilight hours of ideas going on ramparts within our heads

ideas we toy with developing into reality then fall asleep to dream
how many have followed their dreams become their potentials
is that where greatness comes from people we admire want to be
our twilight hours of ideas going on ramparts within our heads

some follow those dreams see themselves doing what dreams told
never giving up or being afraid to give it a chance believeing in themselves
becoming their dreams who they want to be living life as it was meant
our twilight hours of ideas going on ramparts within our heads

is this how heros are born visualizing a dream come true never giving up
men and women possesing the ability to make dreams become reality
not afraid to try ready to follow up with a fantasy to make it come alive
our twilight hours of ideas going on remparts within our heads