Amera Andersen Poems

I love my evening stroll beside the waves,
collecting shells and thoughts along the way;
a daily trek my inner spirit craves,
beside the ocean at the end of day.
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In blissful peace he watched his loving bride
and knew this was a moment he should keep.
Inspired thoughts as she lay by his side,
enchanted by the stillness of her sleep.
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The house was built with the mortar of verse,
stories were raised on foundations of rhyme,
on strength of structure we'd fondly converse,
we'd hammer the nails to meter in time.
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The metered value of the written word
is likened to a sheet of pristine glass.
It separates the art from the absurd
thus hampering creative thought to pass.
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Frantic in the most frangible
state; I found it!

Crashed through the door,
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There is a place I know so well
with heat of passion in control.
A secret place within my shell,
next to the cinder of my soul.
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Let written verse allow thy inner soul
To slip inside the comfort of thy mind.
Decant such worldly ambit of control
And leave its empty cup of life behind.
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Worn… and laced between her crooked fingers,
are ever present beads of faith and hope.
In despair her wretched body lingers,
she’s loosing precious memories to cope.
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You linger in moments that haunt me,
like fragments of fragrant essence
from the petals of life itself.
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Behold the blessings from above
that He bestowed with selfless love.
The fullness of the Lord on high,
within the shutter of your eye.
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