Poems
Stand By Myside
I need to change
will you stand by my side?
Sometimes I don’t think anybody
would want to stay with me.
I’m afraid to grow
yell and cry
if I do will you like me still?
If I grow,
will you be patient with me
just as I have been with you?
I’m afraid to love again
for everyone I let in
has stolen my pot of gold.
I want to place my heart in yours
and I would like you to do the same.
I know my love for you is real,
but is buried deep inside by my fears.
I need to feel your strength
for I have given you mine.
I feel close to you,
but I pretend I don’t feel it.
I’m afraid of you,
for you are so close.
Please don’t let me go.
Copyrighted and Published in Arcada
"What we want to do is what we're meant to do." Julia Cameron
GREAT KISSER
If only I could know the softness of your gentle kisses,
They would be cool and hot at the same time,
like a winters breeze.
To wrap my arms around your waist,
to bid a friendly farewell,
as one of my feet reaches the door,
I look into your brown eyes to see if you feel
I release my body from our hug to depart,
yet something strong
tugs at my heart,
blocking me
forever from safety.
Our cheeks gently brush against each other,
my aching lips long
for your undivided attention.
Anticipation mounts in your eyes,
I pull away
out of fear
that you could hear
my pulsating heart.
We stand erect
with our lips enmeshed
overwhelmed
by adrenaline
throughout our veins.
Softly, I place my hand on your silky face,
and glance into your soul through your eyes,
to comprehend the emotions I have awakened.
I hold my breath
out of possible regret and fear,
that I have crossed a forbidden boundary,
until your response came,
you moved my hair with your fingers
and I knew everything would be all right.
The crash of the waves breaking onto the seashore
awoke me from my sleep
and I realized I was only dreaming of you.
Copyrighted by Donna Barnes
1989
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder.
In the Blush of the Evening
In the Blush of the Evening
Down the lane
Toward the cottage in the
Winter eve, she sleighed.
Merrily the cold washed up
And down her pretty face,
Interruption from the wicked woods
Came a wolf.
Out he jumped scarring the girl with the red
Lips. Stop she says, “What do you want?”
The fangled wolf replied, “But you my dear.”
She had no time to flea and with
One fell swoop, crunched his teeth into the
Neck bone, draining all the red from her pale body.
Coast Line in Italy
