Beloved Teacher

Your wooden desk sits
The apple in red hue
Mystifying the magic
Of your heart’s wont

For every child of
‘Tis earth’s finer gift
You water the roots
So bloom they shall

Each one will grow
With molded pride
Because your guide
Reflects their eyes

Ripen them children
Of a bright tomorrow
With letters, numbers,
With logic and sorrows

Hand in heart faith intrinsic
Your tongue of wisdom
Your heart of virtues
Tainted with placid love

So chaste and pure
You teach, you seek
Their vision, their glories
And flower they shall

With blooms of greatness
For once there sat a fruit
Of labor of whom they call
Their beloved teacher…

Dark Foreday

Her shadow forms
a lady slowly dances
her silhouette eerily follows
cold air in misty morn

She wanders on hallways
in search for better songs
but drawing the wispy
clothing that drapes
she pants, she groans
with worry and strain

Hovers farther she
climbs the wearing stairways
those eyes alluring
the daunting death's way

Nearing the graves of
ruined pure hearts
she stops at bay
where crosses line
the moist humps of clay

For 'tis life to end hers
was to descend sink her spirits
no longer she prays and
with tears streaming
there awaits her sepulchre