Poems by Patricia Fleming

Seagulls soar above her surf,
The sun reflects and gleams,
While people come from miles around
To stroll upon her beach.

Her touch conveys an icy chill
Through her stinging, foamy spray,
While her thunderous waves rush to the shore,
Then gently roll away.

Her blue horizon meets the sky,
The end cannot be seen
While her salty fragrance fills the air
And floats upon the breeze.

She safely cradles in her arms
The boats that bounce upon her tides
And plays coy with all the surfers
Who beckon for another ride.

She can distract us from our worries.
She can lure and hypnotize.
With the rhythm of her movement
And her beauty in our eyes.

She's a force that can't be reckoned with,
A power to revere.
She's a lovely, sweet seductress
Who we long to settle near.

There are no words that truly tell
The splendor of her face
Or recreate that feeling,
Of such a warm and peaceful place.

The ocean is a lovely gift.
She's God's great Masterpiece.
A miracle we can behold
That gives us reason to believe.

Before he crawled into his bed,
He prayed his soul to take.
Then curled up in the darkness,
And spent the night awake.

He dreaded the morning and all it would bring
But believed that it never could change.
For with the dawn of each new day,
That face in the mirror remained.

He longed to pull the covers up
And stay forever there.
And when the sun came creeping through,
He questioned if God even cared.

He grew weary from the struggle.
He longed to have one friend.
He wished they could accept him.
He just wanted to fit in.

But for him, school was a battlefield,
A place where he never felt safe.
And at times, he felt so much anger inside,
He worried how much more he could take.

He felt bruised and battered inside and out,
So he withdrew into himself.
He wanted to fight but didn't know how.
He wished that someone would help.

But he silently carried his hurt and his pain,
So ashamed that he acted so weak.
He tried not to cry and never complained.
He would take the abuse and retreat.

Sometimes he contemplated getting revenge.
Then some days he just wanted to hide.
Sometimes he thought he could kill everyone,
Then there were moments he wanted to die.

Every day he faced bullies, angry and mean.
They were always lurking out there.
They tried to destroy every ounce of esteem
And convinced him that nobody cared.

His life was a nightmare he had to endure,
And he wasn't alone in his pain.
He saw there were others who were different, like him,
And their torture and hurt was the same.

So is this the life that we wanted for them?
Should our children feel anger and fear?
And is this the legacy we'll leave behind,
Or should we save them while we are still here.

So instead of us arguing after the fact
And taking a stand that's too late,
We must teach them the value of kindness
And that differences should be embraced.

That the human spirit can be fragile and weak.
It can break in the blink of an eye.
And we must always respect others' dignity,
Or our humanity can't hope to survive.

The days of their youth remain in their hearts
And will color their future ahead.
So let's help them create a warm, welcome place,
Instead of a world filled with dread.

I once wore the deepest, emerald green
inside a cluster of plush, verdant leaves.
I bowed from an ancient, magnificent tree
and fluttered and danced in a warm spring breeze

Then I sighed in the glow of the sultry sun,
thrilled that a new summer day had begun.
The birds hopped in glee as they woke one by one
and awakened the world as they twittered and sung.

I casted a welcome, magnificent sight
that sheltered and shaded from morning to night
I spied on sweet lovers in the dreamy twilight
and slept beneath stars twinkling and bright.

Then I swelled with pride in the rich, vibrant fall,
serenaded and soothed by the cricket's calls,
and draped in a golden, russet, shawl
I hung praised and admired by one and all.

I napped in the chill of the crisp Autumn air,
as squirrels gathered acorns strewn everywhere,
then I cried as the neighboring trees became bare
and thought how this life was so quick and unfair.

My moment had passed as I lay on that ground,
now withered and useless, decaying and brown.
I looked up at that tree standing naked and down
and recalled when our beauty could thrill and astound.

Though we all looked the same whisking there in the trees,
just a cluster of delicate, whispering leaves
our uniqueness may not be so easy to see,
I assure you there's no leaf in this world just like me.

But nature as life must go through its seasons,
we are born and we die for mysterious reasons.
But I had a good life, just as harsh as was pleasing
and I hope that the world will be grieved by my leaving.

Outside my bedroom window
Stands an old majestic tree.
She's been standing there for decades,
Just as proud as she can be.

And every morning when I wake,
She's the first thing I see.
This lovely constant in my life,
So magnificent and free.

I can see the early, rising sun
Peeking through her lush green leaves.
I can hear her moving gently,
In the summer's warming breeze.

She has a personality
That she wants the world to see.
And her moods are ever changing
Behind her silent dignity.

She responds to every season,
In her own unfettered way.
All we have to do is gaze at her
To know what season's on its way.

In the Spring she comes alive again,
As her leaves begin to bloom.
And beneath the sun's attention,
You can almost see her swoon.

And in the heat of the summertime,
When her joy is magnified.
She has never looked more beautiful,
All "decked out to the nines."

And when the Fall comes creeping in,
And a chill floats on the breeze,
She prefers to don more earthy tones,
And does just what she please.

But when the Winter's looming large,
It's impossible to hide
As her barren limbs droop soulfully.
They betray her grief inside.

She's stood by me through all my days.
She's watched me laugh and cry.
She's listened so intently
While I've pondered on my life.

And when I see her dank and weary,
I will sit with her sometimes.
And all the years we've shared together
Will come rushing back to mind.

But both of us are strong and true.
We've become the closest friends,
And we will weather every storm
Together till the end.

There's an early morning stillness,
A pure, pastoral peace.
A silence so consuming
It sedates and comforts me.

Each sound so hushed and yielding
As if on tip toes nature wakes.
It whispers soft and gently
That it's time to seize the day.

The trills and twitters of the early birds,
The crickets' mesmerizing hum.
The tickling of my eyelids 
By the timid, softer sun.

I gaze outside my window
And let the breeze caress my face,
It's chilly touch so welcoming
That I swoon in its sweet embrace.

The harsh, determined summer sun
Has grown weary and withdrawn,
And a shy and temperate autumn sun
Arrives with the rosy dawn.

It peeks through billowy cotton clouds
And casts shadows everywhere.
The earthy, musky scents of fall
Pervades the fresh, crisp air.

I feel so full and more alive,
No longer crushed by stifling heat.
I need to commune with nature again
Instead of making a fast retreat.

The pumpkins on my front porch stoop,
The crimson, russet leaves.
Hikes through the dense and piney woods
Upon paths that wend and weave.

Hayrides through the farmer's fields,
Cuddled by the fireside,
Eating candy by the five-pound bag
While taking a scenic drive.

All those classic horror movies
That help create the atmosphere,
For those ghost and ghouls of Halloween
To once again appear.

I can feel my heart so filled with thrills,
It's like I'm born again.
The only thought that cramps my style
Is that too quickly it will end.

But hail to the brilliant season of fall,
The most perfect time to me.
Immersed in her colors, aromas, and scares
Is right where I long be!