Arthor Journer Poems

There is no way to measure a mother’s worth
The depths of her love and her gentle care
The bond she has with her children from birth
No gift or treasure can ever compare
...

Tears flowed like wine,
On pristine white floors,
Leaving fresh stains with each new spring.
Nurse’s hands leave imprints on my shoulders.
...

Fear clings to flesh as dew clings to a rose,
Eyes like shutters slowly open then swiftly close.
The view of reality thus only prolong,
As if their hiding will end their song.
...

Memories echo things that were done even words said
For yesteryear we were lovers but tomorrow she weds
Emotions are confused my mind in futile disarray
Discontent where I am yet my heart reaches back to yesterday
...

The song rings out once again inspiring my soul to sing
Not a song of pain and glory, but a sweet symphony
The hard downpour will nurture and reap bright flowers
Strands of web the wind will break before life sours
...

Still mesmerized by the things that were said
Soul still full from the fresh nutrients it was fed
A star shining so bright in the sky a million more
This one glimmered differently grace and beauty galore
...

Somewhere in the battle my heart lost the score
But now awaking from my slumber once again off two war
Wounded pride and scarred flesh and mind
The helmet too thin the vest tin foil lined
...

There are no threads of justice no gifts of glee
For love loves but loves not me
A cycle of words a circle of hurt
A layer of dead seeds planted in my earth
...

Alone I walk as the leaves whisper underneath soulful feet,
Petrified trees lean into each other impelled by the wind’s breath.
My sullen soul shivers and contemplates a disdainful retreat,
Surrounded by nakedness and the impaling hands of death.
...

Lofty dreams falter and tumble to the ground
Skies scream dark and cold when you’re not around
Winds blow my mind and the sea fries my soul
Rain is like sharp needles and muscles lose their control
...