Coyprighted material of C.H. Green

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Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Awakening

Awakening
Beneath this rubble lies the spirit
Of America.
Rumbling, mumbling as she is
Suddenly stirred from her slumber.
As the one who is frightened awake by a sound
And not knowing exactly from whence
It comes, she moves to investigate.
She is Armed and ready to defend her house
For she knows it was not just the wind
Blowing through the trees...
It was evil that brought this sound
This sound of weeping
This sound of sorrow...
And The commander's cries--
Shouts of War
All from bended knees.

Cynthia H. Green
September 15, 2001
In Memory of those who lost their lives in the terrorist attack on America September 11, 2001

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Writer Unemployed

Writer Unemployed


Are you sleeping
or hiding
behind the secrets
You keep buried?
I ask.
Begging your forgiveness,
but
I have to work,
you say,
I cannot stay awake
And talk
the night away...
I have a life
beyond this bed.
And so,
I flip the switch
To Horatio
delivering
Deadpan one-liners
on CSI
Making mental notes
On murder,
knowing
I cannot retire
until
His socks and shorts
are dry.

--CHGreen ©2005

From Hand to Mouth

From Hand to Mouth

Behind her crimson curtains
She sits and sips coffee,
Saddened by the prospect
Of losing her home.
She pads in socked feet
Silently to the window
And wonders if next winter
Will find her here--
Still sipping her coffee
Behind her crimson curtains,
Saddened by the prospect
Of losing her home.

--C.H. Green @2005

Deception

Deception

Heavy with the pride
of his jeweled body,
The angel fell
from his spot so heavenly
And so another spotless world
was marred
From the boughs of that perfect Tree.
Thick scales formed
and the wings with which he'd flown
Transformed themselves
into an ugly sheath,
and he cleverly cloaked himself
a creature of her world.
Oh my friend
how could she know or see...
The prince of Darkness
as an enemy?
He offered an ornately crafted lie
Once a gilded grain of Truth--
She took it willingly
and then she gave--
And then, my friend...she knew.

Cynthia H. Green
2001

Saturday, July 21, 2007

If Sleep Evades You...

if sleep evades you,

do not count sheep...for all their cuddlyness is but an illusion...they bleat and bleed and die on the slaughterhouse floor...and all that's left is the woolen blanket that you wrap your sorrows in. Instead count friends and enemies, and if your foes are few, then sweet sleep will surely come as a feather floating from heaven sending you beautiful dreams--dreams where all your loved ones live again and friends are never far.


--Cynthia H. Green @2007

Until Then


Until then--

Embrace eternal life, dear one
For peace is Heaven's gift;
Rest beneath her boughs and wait
For in due time we all will meet--
Where sorrows never darken the day
And praise takes place of pain.
Then shall you drink deeply from the river
Water--holy, pure, and sweet,
And I, with you when my time has come,
Will worship at His feet.

--Cynthia H. Green
06-04-2007

Mama's Triumph


Mama’s Triumph

The door closed quietly behind her
As Death crept with silent feet--
Ending a lifetime of memories,
The album now complete.

Leaving behind love's legacy,
Children close in prayer--
Sorrow's arms enfold them
Yet Mercy has met them there.

For in the dawn of this new day,
They see beyond earth's realm
A ship that's headed out to sea
Our Father at its helm.

He's guiding her to safety
As onward her vessel lists
Til anchored safe at heaven's gate,
Home rising from the mist.

No more sorrow; no,no more pain
Only joyous victory;
Death must now accept defeat
For all of eternity.

--Cynthia H. Green
8-24-01

When Sometimes Shattered--


When Sometimes Shattered--

When sometimes shattered, we seek to save ourselves as best we can.
Preferring to suffer in silence and to cry alone--
Than have pity place us in a lower rank, we writhe
In darkened corners crumbling at the edges of sanity--
Almost, but not yet too far gone to feel the pain.
Bemoaning lost chances, lost words that dissipated
Like dew in the mid-morning sun, we grieve,
And our darkened world keeps spinning, spinning, spinning--
Into the early morning hours as we toil
To put the tiny pieces back in place...
And hope against all hope that when the glue is dry,
We will at least resemble something of our former selves-
So that none will be the wiser.
--C. H. Green 2007