Poems by Patricia Fleming

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Sometimes I Dream That I Can Fly
- Published: July 2019
A Child's Wish To Fly

in Poems for Kids

Sometimes I dream that I can fly.
I lift and flap my arms just so,
And soon I'm soaring to the sky.
Graceful like a bird I go.

Sometimes I dream that I can fly.
I lift and flap my arms just so,
And soon I'm soaring to the sky.
Graceful like a bird I go.

I find a fluffy cotton cloud
And catch myself a comfy ride.
I cannot hear a single sound,
As slowly through the air I glide.

My silky cloud floats with the breeze,
Through the bluest sky.
Just like a sailboat on the sea,
With seagulls swooping by.

I look upon the streets below
And spy my friends at play.
I dive and dip and twirl around,
As they watch in awe and wave.

I feel so giddy, light and free,
The sun so warm and bright.
I think that I shall fly all day,
And catch a star at night.

But then the wind begins to blow,
And the clouds turn angry gray.
They growl and rumble as they go,
And chase the birds away.

And though it's fun to touch the sky,
I start to feel alone.
I don't feel welcome anymore,
I think perhaps I should go home.

So I lift my arms and tuck my head,
And drift back to the ground.
And when my feet are back on earth,
The rain comes pouring down.

Indeed I had the grandest time,
Up in the boundless sky.
But it's really much too lonely there
To live in all the time.

And though my friends looked up to me
And my heroic flying feats,
It seemed they liked me just as much
When I stood on my two feet.

So I'll do my flying in my dreams,
Where it's all just make believe.
And in real life, I'll stay right here,
Where I'm loved just being me.
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Thanks, Pat, for your poem. I love the feeling of movement your words create - they really transported me. And I also appreciate your honesty in dealing with the subject of finding and having...

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My Loyal Friend
- Published: September 2018
A Lovely Old Tree Outside My Window

in Earth Poems

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

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.
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I'm reminded of a similar experience. When I was a young boy there was a pear tree on the edge of a field a couple hundred yards or so behind the house I was born and raised in. I would go to...

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A Miracle To Behold
- Published: April 2019
The Beauty Of The Ocean

in Ocean Poems

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

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.
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Dear Elizabeth,
Growing up in New Jersey, I have always had easy access to the ocean. I love the ocean but, I have always been interested in the beauty of the PACNW. I love to look at films...

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The Hands Of A Warrior
- Published: December 2018
A Poem About Growing Old

in Aging Poems

Purple veins strain against the skin.
Pale, translucent, paper thin.
Skinny fingers clawed in monstrous shapes,
Brown spots from years that she can't erase.

Purple veins strain against the skin.
Pale, translucent, paper thin.
Skinny fingers clawed in monstrous shapes,
Brown spots from years that she can't erase.

Now wrinkled and fragile, weak and sore,
So many things she can't do anymore.
Some days she feels she's been betrayed
By the cruelty of her advancing age.

She rubs her hands to ease the ache
And recalls the life they helped to make.
She looks at them and feels the loss,
Living a life bears a very high cost.

These hands that held her children near,
That gently dried their salty tears.
Hands that held her husband's tight,
That never let go against the fight.

Miraculous hands that protected and soothed.
Hands, they conveyed her every mood.
Hands so strong they could carry the weight,
That would never give up and never forsake.

Those hands that took little but always gave,
Hands that applauded each achievement made.
Those soft, sweet hands that gently cared,
For those sick or lost in dark despair.

Hands that fussed and fumbled that day
Her husband gave their daughter away.
Those hands holding tight as he slowly died,
Caressing his brow as she stood by his side.

Hands that rocked her grandson to sleep,
That gladly took over when others grew weak.
Hands that once held everyone that she loved,
And prayed for strength to our God above.

Hands that were always so willing to give,
Hands that reveal a life fully lived.
Small, feeble hands, now empty and cold,
These hands that each day will keep growing old.

These hands she now tends to hide away,
These hands that at times make her feel ashamed.
Grotesque and useless in her eyes,
They rest in her lap as she quietly cries.

But I see the hands of a hero so true,
A woman who survived what this life put her through.
A woman whose heart still shimmers like gold,
With the hands of a warrior who made her mark on this world.
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- Rating 4.53
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Dear Angie,
I should have responded much sooner to your beautiful comment about my poem. I am so thrilled that you could completely relate to my words and then share them with others to help...

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Love Is...
- Published: February 2021
Power Of True Love Poem: Loyalty, Support, And Understanding

in True Love Poems

I believe that love is loyalty.
It will always have your back.
It will bravely stand in front of you
If someone should attack.

I believe that love is loyalty.
It will always have your back.
It will bravely stand in front of you
If someone should attack.

Its support will be unwavering.
It will never let you down.
It will be that one true constant
When there's no one else around.

I believe that love is friendship
And a mutual respect,
A bond that can't be broken,
No matter how far it may be stretched.

It will always want the best for you
And will help you if it can,
And when this crazy world confuses you,
Love will help you understand.

Love is not betrayal.
It can look you in the eye
And its word will not be broken;
It won't manipulate or lie.

Love will not degrade you
Or destroy your self-esteem.
It won't be cold or critical
Or belittle all your dreams.

Love will not abandon you,
Despite how difficult things get.
It will create the sweetest memories,
Not a torrent of regrets.

But where there are beginnings,
There will sometimes be an end.
But our hearts are made of sturdy stock,
And so a broken heart can mend.

To love is human nature;
It is a crucial part of life.
It may not always come so easily,
But it will be well worth the fight.

Love comes in every shape and size,
And we can love in different ways.
It will still remain alive in us,
When all else has passed away.
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Forgiveness Is Divine
- Published: July 2018
Encouraging Poem About Forgiving Others

in Life Lesson Poems

Some people view forgiveness
As a virtue for the weak.
An act of mercy undeserved,
That serves no useful need.

Some people view forgiveness
As a virtue for the weak.
An act of mercy undeserved,
That serves no useful need.

They stand firmly in their judgment
And won't consider a mistake.
They prefer to hold a senseless grudge
Than accept amends when made.

They feel they have some godly right
To reject and criticize.
They're possessed by righteous anger,
And consumed by pointless pride.

They're focused on how they've been wronged,
And won't be made the fool again.
So they feel they must avenge themselves
By refusing to give in.

They will sacrifice their family,
Or forsake a long-time friend.
Do anything they have to do
To be the winner in the end.

Or perhaps it's that they can't resolve
The depth of all their hurt,
Caused when someone they've trusted,
Left them questioning their worth.

But no matter why the struggle,
Out of pride or out of fear,
Not being able to forgive
Can cause the loss of ones most dear.

Yes, forgiveness is a virtue,
They even say it is divine.
But more than that it sets you free
From what weighs you down inside.

The best way to approach this life
Is to ask forgiveness and to forgive.
There's a balance to this crazy world,
So live and just let live.
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Hi Pat,
I was so pleased to wake this morning and find one of your poems. Everything you write comes from your heart. I have commented to you before of how I enjoy your poems and I feel...

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Depression

Top 500 180
- Published: August 2019
Depression Is A Monster

in Depression Poems

Depression is a monster
That destroys both heart and soul.
It tortures without mercy
And consumes its victim whole.

Depression is a monster
That destroys both heart and soul.
It tortures without mercy
And consumes its victim whole.

It cripples and disables,
Making life too hard to cope.
It can make each day a nightmare
And leave a person without hope.

Some people feel this sadness
From the time that they are young,
And believe that they are different
And can't be loved by anyone.

It's reinforced by parents
Too depressed themselves to care
For that child they're supposed to love,
But instead forget is there.

Depression can be nurtured
Through violence and neglect
And fists used only to degrade
And words used to reject.

It's hidden in those bullies
Who torture and demean,
Who use their words like weapons
To destroy all self-esteem.

It's fueled by those substances,
That are used to help escape.
From that endless pain depression brings
And that unbearable heartache.

It can cause someone to just give up,
To lose all strength to fight.
It can annihilate one's very soul
And make them take their life.

Yes, Depression is a vulture
That will make anyone its prey.
There is no one who deserves it,
And there is no one to blame.

We don't need to make a judgment,
But we need to be aware
That those who suffer through this pain
Just need the world to care.
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My Dear Malainse,
I am sobbing right now! Your words have both broke and filled my heart. Let me share with you, you have touched my life so much and lifted my spirits clear to the sky. I...

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My Personal Quest

Top 500 117
- Published: March 2018
Searching To Find Ourselves

in Inspirational Poems

For most of my life, I've been on a quest
To discover just who I might be,
Earnestly searching, day after day,
So desperate to recognize me.

For most of my life, I've been on a quest
To discover just who I might be,
Earnestly searching, day after day,
So desperate to recognize me.

I've felt moments of utter fulfillment
And moments I couldn't go on,
But I knew for the sake of my heart and my soul,
To succeed, I would have to be strong.

But the people around me seemed so lost themselves
That I feared I might be on my own.
But then there'd be someone who would reach out and help
And remind me I wasn't alone.

I've wanted so much to be happy,
To know what it was to feel peace,
And I thought if I finally felt sure of myself,
Then the pain and the struggles would cease.

But I've learned that this journey is endless;
The discoveries are fresh every day,
And no matter how much I might know of myself,
They'll be times I will still lose my way.

And as I've grown older, I truly believe
I may never know all I can be.
But the answers are not waiting out in the world
But have always laid right inside me.

We're all on this quest to discover ourselves,
Together but through our own ways,
Overcoming whatever might get in our paths,
So we can feel better someday.

But always remember not to stray far
From what matters and what's really true.
In this life you don't have to be perfect.
In the end, you just have to be you.
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Wow this poem is so beautiful! I'm surprised there aren't more comments under it! Right now I feel like I don't know myself and need to discover who I am. This piece really comforted me to...

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Finding Hope

Top 500 121
- Published: July 2017
Overcoming Fear In Life

in Hope Poems

I've always viewed life from the side lines,
Just watching it passing me by.
In the past, too afraid to just let go and live,
And lately too tired to try.

I've always viewed life from the side lines,
Just watching it passing me by.
In the past, too afraid to just let go and live,
And lately too tired to try.

I've envied the people around me
So invested in living each day,
While I spent my time hiding out from the world
And searching for ways to escape.

For most of my life I truly believed
I was here to help somebody else,
But now it's so clear it was just an excuse.
To avoid living life for myself.

It's sad that our lives and the pain we endure
Can weaken our strength to move on,
But if we get lost in the scars of our past,
Without knowing our lives will be gone.

It's true, people are disappointing,
They can turn in the blink of an eye,
But we can't avoid hurting each other,
When we all want a chance at this life.

But there's something I've learned through the wisdom of age,
A truth about all of our lives,
And that is no matter what path we each take,
In the end, we just want to survive.

So the time has now come to conquer my fears
And to stand up and face a new day.
Let the hurts of my past wash away with my tears
And stop letting my life slip away.
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Oh Patricia, your poems are as good as ever and mean so much. You only have to look at all the comments to see how your writing affects so many of us. Keep going. Very best wishes, Ann.

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I Still Matter

Top 100 89
- Published: September 2017
Dealing With Growing Old

in Aging Poems

I'M STILL HERE

My looks are nothing special,
My face reveals my age,

I'M STILL HERE

My looks are nothing special,
My face reveals my age,
My body shows some wear and tear,
And my energy's not the same.

Too often my memory fails me,
And I lose things all the time.
One minute I know what I plan to do,
And the next it may just slip my mind.

I try hard to avoid my mirror.
There are things I would rather not see,
And even those times when I just catch a glimpse,
I can no longer recognize me.

The things I used to do with ease
Can now cause aches and pains,
And the quality of the things I do
Will never be quite the same.

I always compare my older self
To those younger versions of me,
And I know I'm wasting too much time
Missing who I used to be.

But the thing that really makes me sad
Is despite what people see,
Underneath my tattered, worn out shell,
I'm still the same old me.

My heart can still feel endless love,
And at times it still can ache.
My heart can fill with so much joy,
And then it can suddenly break.

My soul can still feel sympathy
And longs for forgiveness and peace,
And there are times its light shines boldly through,
And times when it longs for release.

It's true, maybe now that I'm older,
Feeling lonely may be status quo,
But it also has made me more willing
To forgive and let past conflicts go.

So maybe to some I look ugly and old,
A person who barely exists.
I'm still quite aware of the beauty inside,
And my value should not be dismissed.

So although not as strong and no beauty, it's true,
I'm still here and want so much to live,
And I know that there's no one in this world quite like me,
And no one who has more to give.
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This poem really hit home with me. I will be 60 on my next birthday and it seems like years fly by like days. I too look in the mirror and wonder where all the lines and wrinkles have came...

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