Pat Kunisch

Lonely roads have stretched before me
Bending left then to the right
Ever winding, ever twisting
Tangle-wood on either side
...

Keep the world outside
Keep it far away
Let not indifference creep into
This glorious hideaway
...

In the quiet of the evening
when all the world’s asleep,
outside my house
the night is dark
...

Beneath the wilderness of murky waters,
Deaf to the sound of the howling wind,
Sea Creatures dressed in wondrous colors,
In graceful dance they float and swim.
...

At night when I try sore to sleep
My mind drifts off to waters deep
Where once I wandered on the shore
Of a river whose cradle I still adore
...

Leaves falling - now and then
Winds blowing, bees flirting
Butterflies visiting and passing by
They see and kiss
...

It stands there still,
that ancient wall
of Roman times
through wars gone wrong.
...

Voices mumbling
from the TV,
rambling on and on -
The ice is melting -
...

Lonely echoes like a silent heartbeat
awake the memories of the deep;
of times that want to be forgotten
like a harvest not meant to reap.
...

When I was a young girl in my teens,
I was given an album,
with red cover of leather
and pages of gold leaf,
...

OH give me wings
to put upon my feet
to fly
across this ballroom floor
...

One more night the rains are falling -
a heavy steady dripping -
Trains rumble along -
a fast rushing -
...

I stand on the shores, at the edge of great waters,
Watching the waves roll back and forth.
Each whitecap carries the hopes of the people,
Reaching out for all to open their doors.
...

Far apart we are
You and I
Thru time and circumstance
Difficult to measure
...

Do you remember yesterday’s morn -
when the air smelled sweet
and the sun rose high
in a deep blue sky above?
...

Have you seen the sunsets lately?
The great expanse of sky, embellished
with all the hues of eventide, in shades
of blues and pinks and greens, mixed
...

WHEN I leave this world and breathe my last breath,
close my eyes and reminisce my last memory –
the one that closes the chapter of all those memories
that flash – as it is said – upon the horizon of our mind,
...

You must have been born
on a cold winter's night
when a mother's soft eyes
stared into the night,
...