Monthly Archives: May 2014

A Quiet Exit…

 

Maya Angelou walked away,

from the world today,

leaving behind a magnificent legacy.

She no doubt left her footprints

deep within the earth’s surface.

If you look closely, you can still see them

outlined in the fresh moistened soil,

as if she had just walked there.

But her footprints gradually became lighter,

until slowly they began to fade

as she neared her exit.

Her footsteps soon disappeared

as she crossed over to the other side,

where the grass is greener,

a new audience awaits,

for the wisdom she will surely bring,

and to find out too why the caged bird sings!

Rest in peace great lady…

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

Terracotta Dreams

 

In the depth of slumber,

terracotta dreams flow silently into existence.

Aburst with a brilliance that burns slowly,

and without mercy, quietly and relentlessly.

Etching its presence deep within the recesses of the mind.

A smoldering reminder of the fine line

that exists between the conscience and sub-conscience.

Magnificent terracotta colors

seer their way through, blazing a fiery pathway

that leads deeper into this temporary place,

that only exists while asleep.

To awaken, risks disturbing

the unique tranquility of this colorful space.

The sweltering terracotta madness,

gathers one securely in its clutches.

An unsolicited hypnosis cloaked

in an undetectable disguise.

Terracotta dreams will overtake you,

the moment you close your eyes.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

Image found at: http://etsy.com

 

 

Private Anguish…

How could anyone know the pain,

of my distressed and tortured mind?

The mental clutter carelessly strewn about.

Many regrets have I,

but there is no one else to blame.

A bad choice, cannot be taken back.

What’s done is done.

My mind can only ponder a choice

than cannot be reversed.

No matter how much I hope and wish

that things could go back

to times before the choice was made.

I am now left to bask in the worry

that is mine and mine alone.

Anguish is the visitor that I invited

to this private party ~ by ‘invitation’ only,

that which has been readily accepted.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

Image found at: http://lunagirl.com

 

Alone

 

Alone in my bed,

with nothing but the thoughts inside my head

to keep me company ~ but it’s not so bad.

For I am never truly alone

My conscience is my guide to places unknown.

Anxiety and regret ~ my silent companions

always there to mingle

with the thoughts inside my head.

A frequent traveler am I,

occasionally, interruption and distraction stop by

to wreak havoc on my solitary world.

I run for cover

under the cool protection of my sheets.

I am early ~ I am alone,

I lie in wait,

for my thoughts to join me…once again.

Image found at: http://lunagirl.com

 

The Woman I Am….

 

 

The woman I am is filled with hope.

My life experiences have taught me the ropes.

 

The woman I am is focused and steady,

to take on the world, I know I am ready.

 

The woman I am is sensitive and caring,

giving freely from my heart, I don’t mind sharing.

 

The woman I am is secure and stable,

to take on like’s challenges, I am willing and able.

 

The woman I am is aging with grace,

all the wrinkles in life have not left their trace.

 

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

Misunderstood…

The twisted dreads upon your heads,

are a wonderful array of madness.

People stop and stare at what you wear,

with a mixture of both sadness and gladness.

You stare right back at this visual attack,

as you proudly sport your attire.

The viscious stares, the sidelong glance,

to their displeasure, you are on fire.

The envy is clear and so is the fear,

as you make your mark in the world’s atmosphere.

The strength of your presence, brings a frown of unpleasance,

as you behave in your natural state.

A state that is great, at any rate,

for it ultimately determines your fate!

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

 

 

 

 

The Doors to My Heart

The doors to my heart swung open,

as I gladly welcomed you in.

How I longed for your companionship,

as I cas all caution to the wind.

At first things seemd so perfect,

you were everything I’d hoped for.

But then things took a turn for the worst,

a fact that could not be ignored.

The change took place so quickly.

I never saw it coming my way.

I could olnly stand there in disbelief,

in shock, not knowing what to say.

Of course, you didn’t see it like this,

even said I was way off base.

But this pain is real and my heart does hurt,

I think we both need some space.

This time apart, we should use wisely,

and examine how we really feel.

Then we can make a joint decision,

if what we feel is real.

So for now, I’ll close the doors to my heart,

as I give it a much needed rest.

The choices that I make in the future,

for me will be the best.

 

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

Many thanks!

 

 

 

Thank so much to everyone who has visited my blog and

“liked” and/or become a follower.

Thanks also to those who just stopped by. I truly

appreciate each and every one of you!

I am happy to say that

I have reached the magical number of 100!

Yes, 100 followers that is!

I could not have accomplished this without you,

and a huge accomplishment it is, as I have not been

in this blogging game very long. How awesome

it is to share an arena with so many talented

and like-minded people who seem to get me.

It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance

and I look forward to growing with you and

learning from you as I grow in my own writing.

I will strive to continue to bring you content

that you can thoroughly enjoy!

I am inspired by all of you! Many blessings and love to you all!

Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

 

 

 

 

A Heart in Bloom

 

 

A heart that blooms opens deep and wide,

unselfishly allowing love full entry inside.

With each new petal, aburst and new,

uncovers another colorful layer or two.

The secret cocooned and so well protected,

has been slowly revealed and carefully detected.

Love is in the air, which is the main reason,

a heart that blooms is always in season.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

A Broken Heart

A broken heart,

rapidly beating as it

shatters into a million pieces.

Shards of pain as thin as glass

scattered about in disarray.

The heart’s eye sees its reflection

among the shiny emotional debris

Unable to imagine its original wholeness.

Pain and emotion spill

from the heart’s tender center

like vivid life’s blood.

Dripping in a sorrowful rhythm

as it mourns its brokenness.

Broken for now but the true beauty

lies in its ability to become whole again.

Every piece coming back together.

The heart is broken no more

as it pumps new life’s blood….

until the next time.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall