Angel Whispers Poem by Marilyn McIntyre

Angel Whispers
by Marilyn McIntyre

Angel Whispers
the time is upon us
rest, rest
clouds of snow
drift gently down
rest, rest
violin, serene
words alone
thoughts untangle
time solely owned
rest, rest
sing to your heart
wordlessly murmur
lullabies and time
to rest, to rest
womb and warmth
rockabye, rockabye
shush, hush, dream
to rest, to rest
listen, feel, fly
the angels whisper
rustle, ascend

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Namecalling Poem by Marilyn McIntyre

Nov 88Numbers

Last night you called me a miserable bitch

I dreamed of you then

Only fragments remain

Hazy flickering images that

I wish were to my advantage

Of course they’re not.

The pain of losing you is less than,

equal to, or greater than

the pain of being with you

Mathematics was never my strong point

But even I understand that

less than in relation to pain

becomes emotional rather than

rational mathematical numbers.Hungry

I don’t get anything from you

Lots to eat,

But never food for thought.Shadows

Grey gull shadows

Dancing on sun-washed walls

Free, unfettered

Of muscle and sinew

But the price of freedom is high

For the day must end.Phonebook

I leafed through my phonebook

Late one night

and realized there was no one

I could talk to

About nothing at all

all the pain, the indecision are mine

And mine alone.

No one is gripped in my agony

And how do I find words to express it

There are none

Only love and truth can soothe me

And these are illusory in my life

Reach out and touch me

Bring me back to some semblance

Let me find the love and the truth

Or must I be, alone.Alone

And so they sat

He and she

So in love

Yet so alone

Lonely.

The spoke great truths

About one another

Forgave in love

But held the hurt

Alone.

They lay naked

Side by side

Stripped of civilities

But they wouldn’t strip

Defences.

And so they moved

He to his

She to hers

Still held together by

Love.

Now he looks back

She ponders

He wonders

Living in grand style

Alone.

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Past and Future Poem by Marilyn McIntyre

past presents the future

in synchronistic swimming round
let my people come
master hidden
mentors, muses
music soothes me
doubt assuages
teases, tortures
lay my soul upon my pen
let me lie with sleeping lambs
let my inklings come
flames console me
candles implore
floors for weeping
cool tiles to soothe
ice encases
sorrows, embraces
let my angels come

Copyright © 1998 by Marilyn McIntyre, All rights reserved

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