A Remorseful Plea

If I should drink from the nectar of the Gods
and return to my youth once more,
Would the Gods be with me
or would it be as before?

For all that I did was not enough.
My life was left undone.
Would the sweetness of the nectar
be accompanied by the sun?

Or would my life be a revolving door
making me atone
for all I left unfinished
and all I did bemoan?

As the bitterness that quenched my thirst
was not a pleasant drink,
still I drank and drank of it
and never stopped to think

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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God's Helpers

Every mother in the world when they're giving birth
accepts the labor pains that come because she knows their worth.
As contractions come and go, she silently does pray
her baby will be healthy in every single way.
She has felt the fluttering and quickening of new ife.
Sometimes feeling peaceful and sometimes feeling strife,
She wonders how she'll handle the responsibility
of caring for a child that hopefully will be
all she's ever hoped for and prayed for many nights.
When she hears the babe's first cry it takes her to new heights.
She's never had that feeling. It cannot be replaced.
She gives thanks many times for having been so graced.

A mother is God's helper in so many ways.
She praises as she raises her child and she always stays
faithful 'til her dying breath takes her and then
she's sure God will take over and watch her child again.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Temperament

Some people are easy going
and some are so uptight.
Both types are completely different
just like day and night.

It's fun to be around the ones
that take life as it comes.
They're comfortable to be with.
They're like a tune that hums
a song of sweet contentment.
They're at peace in every way,
never flying off the handle
at something you might say.

Let's think about the others
and try to understand
why they're so excitable
and get so out of hand.
They're like a ticking time bomb
waiting to explode.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Time Thief

I feel the hours move too fast
and know that I can't make them last.
I do not cry for loss of them,
but the giver of time I do condemn
and cannot forgive how he takes away
every hour on every day.

I close my eyes to all of this
with the hope that he might miss
a few of the hours that belong to me.
But when I open my eyes I see
that those few hours are also gone
and I must face one more dawn.

And again my condemnation's here.
I cannot forgive this thief I fear.
He's stolen the sight of sunny skies.
He's stolen them right before my eyes.
He's fled with all the music I love.
He'll leave me nothing that I'm made of.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Eternal Questioning

Oh sweet world you've left me in doubt.
I've tried my best to figure things out.

The trials we face are much too much.
It seems as if we are all out of touch.

The touch of reality is too obscured.
Why is there nothing of which we're assured
except death?

Death is an agreed upon point in time
that comes to all when they finish their climb.

Some when they're young which seems unfair,
some when they're old, beyond repair.

Some who seem to have a death wish,
some whose dreams are never finished.

Questioning the reasons and the whys

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Illusion-reality

Step into the shoes I've worn.
Feel where I have stepped.
Observe the places I have walked
and feel the tears I've wept.
For only then can another know
something they can't see.
The ups, the downs,
the good, the evil
and everything that makes us be
different in so many, many ways
but the same eventually.

'Cause all roads come together
no matter what shoes you've worn.
It makes not one bit of difference
your color or the place where you were born.
For like drops of the ocean that evaporate
then fall back down again,
we all will rise to the occasion
and finally comprehend

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Visit From Hell

There came a knock,
a knock on my door.
I looked out the window.
My heart fell on the floor.

The knock came again.
I covered up my ears
for standing outside
confirmed all my fears.

Two military gentlemen
with sad looking eyes
asked to come inside
and tried to sympathize.

My son, they said had died
bravely in the war.
The flag they handed me
I lay gently on the floor.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Hit 'em again, Harder, harder

Remember that old football cheer
we all used to yell?
Well, this is the cheer the politicians use
as they put us all through hell.

Just as you think you might be getting ahead,
they hit you again harder with lies you are fed.
When you're too busy trying to make ends meet
they hit you again harder and turn up the heat.

They hit real hard when they hit your pocketbook
and at their tax returns, you'll never get a look.
So now we have a financial crisis staring us in the face.
The collapse of our dollar, which has fallen from grace

We've let them go too far without fighting back.
And like the football game, we need a quarterback sack.
America is falling. We need the 2 minute drill.
But there's not enough bravery so head for the hills.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Independence Day

On July the Fourth we celebrate
with fireworks so high.
We shoot them off and watch them
as they burst into the sky
reminding us that rockets were a part
of our history.
As a nation, we were formed with hopes
that we'd all be free,

Free from intolerance, injustice
and religious bigotry.
We started out with all of these
but slowly we did see
that ideals in this country
slowly did they change
and now as fireworks go off
I find it rather strange

that different points of view
that make us who we are,

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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What Am I Doing Here?

I often ask myself, 'What am I doing here? '
The answer I arrive at is never very clear.
After years of living and learning
still my brain is yearning
to arrive at answers
that can satisfy my curiosity.
I was satisfied as a child
with the not-knowing.
But as each new year came upon me
and my mind kept growing
satisfaction escaped.

At times in quiet introspection
I challenge myself to be content
with no detection of answers
as to why and how?
But contentment is not my style.
So after a while I vow
to keep on with my quest,
something that I never would have guessed

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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