The last page in a book
The last page in a life
Written
With a hand dipped in love.
Read with knowledge
Of a end
That lives on in a mind
Filled
With unconditional love.
Yes
It’s the last page in a book
And you’ll find another one
Knowing it too
Will be written
With unconditional love.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
Anticipation
Anticipation of what can and will be
Sadness, sorrow
Or
Unprecedented ecstasy
Mine to control
With the best there is
Anticipation
That’s what it is.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
The winds of change are changing
The known is not here
We all believe in the future
We all want it to be right here.
The winds of change are changing
Bringing the future back to here
Everything we’re holding
Everything so oh so dear
Will soon be far, far in the rear.
The winds of change are changing
The present soon too, far in the rear
The future before us
Hold it close, hold it dear but
Never forget those we cherish
They’re now in the rear.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
Sadness fails
Crashes
Hear
The wails.
Monster crawls
Full of regret
Finally getting
What he should
Get.
No remorse
Pity none
Turn the page
Forget
The rage.
Sadness can
No more
Be part of
Hate.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
See the beauty beneath the sky. Makes me wonder, wonder why? ~ Patrice 
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
I have seen
many things.
I need to use
those experiences
to make my world
a better place
for all I care for
and love.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
Slowly, softly the fog dissipates
Leaving beneath me
A breathtaking land of
Oh so much rare beauty.
In this grand, lovely land
Is a dream where I could exist
Bringing to my life a magic
I shouldn’t nor can resist.
Come join me there
In this wonderland I love
Come be part of a world where
All is filled with wondrous love.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
The drinks go down
In the hummingbird feeder
As the sun warms the sky
Grass blows on a breeze
Destined to bring rain
To the evening’s brilliant blue sky.
All seems right
All seems as it should be
No sight of anger
Or struggle to combat.
Just a spring day
Over coming all that.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
I read
The old ones
And believe
They were spun
By masters
Pass deceased.
They can see
All spread out
Far and wide
They can help me
Thru and be
The master here
Within my own
Small
Little destiny.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson 2013
The smell of lilacs ebbs and flows
Over my senses
Taking me back in time
When life was slow
And in pastures green
Children laughing, playing
Running past the stream.
Sweet scented lilacs are my time machine.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
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Based on work at patriceclarkson.wordpress.com.
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