Melancholy raining, dripping down
No obvious reason can be found
Spreading cross the quiet landscape
Resting briefly on a innocent face
Then running down
On tears of those lost, wandering round.
Maybe someday a bright sun will shine
Dark, foreboding clouds pass
Dissipate and show guiding lights
Til then only melancholy
Can be found
Reigning so profound.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2019
My Fortune I suppose
Is in my hands
The coming and going
Of goodness, happiness
Is in my command.
No soaked coat
Laden with anger
Can cover me
Or make my way
A forsaken land.
I will, I can
See my fortune ahead
Waiting
Waiting to take my hand.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2019
The words sit silent
Waiting to take a place
On a page, part of a sentence
A paragraph
Or just fill an empty space.
Never know what they are to be
Where they’re coming from
Placed upon the page
Uttered
From a pulpit
Graced by the shinning sun.
No matter, there they come
No longer waiting
The words have found their purpose
Their place, on a page, a paragraph
A voice
Greeting the morning sun.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2015
I don’t want to be you
I want
Want to be me
Allowing nothing to stand in the way
Whether the path be straight or crooked
It doesn’t matter
It’s the way I’ll travel on my journey
To be just me
Today.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2019
The world is moving forward
The old one has come to an end
The sadness in between is harsh
Sometimes you think
It’ll never end.
Then the dark clouds drift apart
A sun radiating brilliant light
Shines down
On the troubled traveller
Giving a guiding light.
~ Patrice
Patrice Clarkson – 2019
Sadness streams down my face
Dreams
Remembered of another place
Trying to correct wrongs done
In that other time, that other place
No help
Can be strong enough
No help to carry me away
From that sad, sad place
Today.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2019
The coldness covers and blossoms
Amongst dead and dying leaves
No heart is safe from these icy fingers
Embracing you, embracing me.
Covering, spreading across the land
Bringing cold some won’t withstand
Then it’s gone
Gone from the hidden, sleeping land.
Replaced by warmth growing
Flowering in the meadow, blooming in a tree
Another season guides life to expand
Spreading across this land
Thats’s in front of me.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2015
Tortured are the souls
I see
Writhing in pure agony.
No remorse can be seen
Only furious anger
Seething.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2019
I have found
The world is round
What is done comes back
Comes back around
So don’t make it bad
Don’t make anyone sad
Cause back
It comes back around.
Make it happy
Carefree, filled with joy
Then when it comes back
Comes back around
Your soul will know
Truly
The world is round.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2019
 | Patrice on I Haven’t Seen You |
 | joannerambling on I Haven’t Seen You |
 | I Haven’t Seen You |… on I Haven’t Seen You |
| Patrice on Life |
| joannerambling on Life |
This work by Patrice Clarkson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on work at patriceclarkson.wordpress.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at PatriceClarkson.com.
