Tag Archive | poems

Wrangling A Poem


It is said, food is sustenance –
purely and simply.
To that I say, 
a poem is most exquisitely the savory and sweet 
nectar which feeds the soul. 
 
They’re meant to be slivered into bite size pieces,
swirled around and sucked on.
 
Much like one enjoys a fine wine,
allowing it to roll on the palette,
noting the high and low notes,
identifying the complex and subtle elements.
 
Emily Dickinson, Mary Oliver, Lou Lipsitz, 
Maya Angelou, Walt Whitman, Pablo Neruda
soothe the weary spirit.
 
Pick one, 
sink into a comfortable chair,
lose yourself in the what if.  
 
Chew on the fat, roll around in the grass,
graze on the possibilities. 
 
Collect them, soak them in, 
let them fill you.
 
Eat freely from the banquet of poems,
you will never be alone.
Full of Hope
Debbie Hope
 

The Present


I roamed the halls of my high school
year after endless year,
and watched as oodles of boys hung their
athletic arms adoringly over the shoulders
of their latest love……
Yins to each Yang–or so each hoped.

Life pushed on, and although I forgot,
delivered on a long ago prayer.
A shiny gift,
of true,
abiding Love.

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The House


The house we lived in was an average size, but as a kid I thought it was a palatial mansion. The house we lived in was filled with love. The house we lived in was overflowing with interesting characters that came and went through our front door and our lives. The house we lived in was warm and comfortable. The house we lived in was crazy at times, especially because my sister and I were always fighting, and I mean always. The house we lived in was a place to be yourself. The house we lived in was safe. The house we lived in was near a lake. The house we lived in had a septic system instead of city sewers, and that made me never want to live in another house with a septic system. The house we lived in was green when I was growing up, and then it turned blue. The house we lived in was filled with animals, all kind of animals, it was a safe place for animals. The house we lived in was always full. Full of people, full of food, full of clothes, full of love, full of tears, full of faith, full of laughter, full of secrets……full, full, full. The house we lived in was full of privilege. The house we lived in was generous, always generous. The house we lived in was filled with little “chetchkas” or trinkets that were never thrown out.

The house we lived in was never empty until that one ice cold day in December, when the house we lived in was emptied and silenced forever.

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Ladies Who Lunch


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They sat close to one another,
faced each other head on,
as if no one else was around.

Intent on hearing each and every word,
when one spoke,
the other listened with her eyes.
Squinting and methodically blinking her
commitment to the conversation.

Dishes and silverware clanked in the background
while hidden conversations grew louder,
but they remained tethered to each other
huddled closer yet,
while they bonded and soothed souls.

There was talk of hip replacements, weekly sales
at the grocery, rising cost of
prescription medications…….important things.

Signs of age all around.
Walkers nearby, wash and set hair do’s,
bony, arthritic hands dappled with
tell tale spots.

Enjoying small bites of pastry,
followed by long slurps of hot coffee,
occasionally dabbing their mouths
with a folded paper napkin… so very lady like.

Time to clear the table and get down to the business of life.

Debbie Hope

The Chemistry of Tears


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A word of true kindness
something sincere,
provokes a fountain of tears.

They fill up quietly; but deliberately,
they pool at my rim,
and slowly bubble over,
they stream through my lashes
never ending,
a river of tears.

They know truth,
flow freely when my heart connects to a higher sense–deep and real.
They flood my soul, moving me to another space
An elixir of emotion.

They have the power to soothe me,
shock me,
scare me.
What makes them appear out of nowhere?

Maybe you’ve heard
There’s great power in words.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

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Winged Flight


Are they really there,
silently, circling
the atmosphere?

Have you ever,
I mean ever –
caught just one glimpse
Of their angelic fanfare?

Dipping and diving
traipsing and gliding.
Invisibly connecting
the tiniest golden thread,
meant to protect
without end.

Cherubim and Seraphim
halo to halo,
wing to wing
they stand, united
so we can persevere
the hardships of life.

Another poem by Debbie Hope……aka Full of Hope

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