A Rose in Politics
A rose is like a politician,
Full of promise of perfection,
on the surface true confection,
Until you're stuck
'til next election.
Published in The Oregonian Sept 22, 1974
Redeemed from Despondency
Gray sky staring down upon me,
Harsh winds tearing at my soul,
fingers of ice creeping through my veins,
Vague shaddows grab and pull,
Tiny flicker of light above,
Hope comes dancing on a sun beam,
How can I be freed from hopelessness?
Surely unreal--it must be a dream.
Warmth is flowing into my heart,
Fear departing as the shadows flee,
I'm drenched in love's sweet light,
The chains fall off and I'm set free!
sheltered by the mountain tall,
warmed by Summer, turning Fall,
Winter's frost fingers will
steal the color from the hills
golden orange to silver white
like blazing sunset to misty night.
Oh slender hope,
how bright and flighty a butterfly you do appear,
and yet, although you might take flight
at any moment and leave me
cold and hungry,
I gently, slowly reach my hands out to you
and pray you will never leave me,
But, as my fingertips touch your delicate wings---
gold dust flies
and you are gone!
Hours pass in solitude, the silence
only broken by the endless throbbing
of my broken heart.
Suddenly, I see a flutter of gold
and the soft, sweet creature
lands on my nose
and spreads her golden magic
over my face,
Until I awaken to find
my dreams fulfilled,
my heart healed,
and my patience rewarded.
poems by R. F-M