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The Waiting
Inside her favorite room
In the total darkness
She’s crouching down
Patiently in wait
As the floodwaters rise
She holds on to her faith
For she knows they are coming
Today would be the day
That they’d finally come
In the distance she hears their shouts
As the floodwaters rise
She prays for deliverance
Weary from this perpetual plight
Her eyes are closing now
She wishes not to be forgotten
For this they had promised her
As they draw nearer
And nearer to her
Patricia E. Poirson
The author added: This poem is decidated to the victims of Hurricane Katrina. I urge you strongly to send your monetary donations to the American Red Cross (or your local chapter in your country). Thank you
The Separation
Try to remember before it hit
How much you used to love
The way I’d offer you
That extra slice of cheese
Or in the early mornings
Before our daily walk
Stroking your coat so lovingly
As I slipped your lead
Ever so carefully over your head
Now before they are to force us apart
I’ll look into your perplexed eyes
For the very last time
Hoping that somehow you’ll sense
My faithful and only true friend
That this is not what I want
To have to part with you like this
And to find my path without you
Patricia E. Poirson
The author wanted to add: This poem is decidated to the victims of Hurricane Katrina. I urge you strongly to send your monetary donations to the American Red Cross (or your local chapter in your country). Thank you
Window Watching
As I scurry to the kitchen
Upon hearing the barking dog
In a mad rush to open the window
Just in time to get my daily glimpse
Of the spectacle that’s about to unfold
I’m eyeing him now as he makes his way
Balancing himself on top of the picket fence
Carefully putting his paws in place
So he won’t stumble and take a fall
Into the yard of the barking dog
When he finally makes it to the other side
He’ll jump onto the tattered rooftop
Of my Dutch neighbor’s shed
Then turn up his whiskered face to meet my gaze
As if to tell me that he was triumphant again
Patricia E. Poirson
Storytime
Waiting outside of the kitchen
At the far end of the hall
Wearing her frilly teal nightgown
And ballerina slippers on her feet
Clutching the story book to her chest
With a page that’s been carefully marked
Watching for the chosen time
When daily tasks will come to an end
Mounting the stairs quietly hand in hand
They are seemingly in perfect unison
Heading to the precise place
Where this nightly event occurs
At the far end of the hall
In her big sister’s room
Anticipating the much awaited appearance
Of their favorite storyteller
Patricia E. Poirson
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