In Your Sleep, I die

In your tender sleep, thy child cries
Bullied and tortured by ruthless foes
Amidst pain, I threw arms in the sky
Asleep thou are to comfort my woes.

In your slumber, they child weeps
My eyes grow wide, my arms go lame
Blood drips from me while thou sleep
Beyond that, lo! my heart aflame.

In your sleep, thy child dies
Preserving peace in my heart
Thy child dies so that your eyes
May open with a start.

poem by Geraldine Fernandez
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Pink Letter

Dear Father,
To thee this letter
Is written with a child’s wonder.

Pink ink
On a fancy paper almost pink
Like a blush on a maiden’s cheek
Like rose abloom in mountain’s peak.

Pink letter in the hands of a child
Bears words innocent and mild
Glorifying the father who made all –
tame and wild.

Pink letter with heavenly scent
Pink ink that stays, not evanescent
Lasts in the heart of the child who writes
Too innocent to name wrong from right.

Dear Father,

[...] Read more

poem by Geraldine Fernandez
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Imperfection From Absence

Send me a rose thorn for my love’s rejection
Or a rosebud for thy love’s confession
Ardent love sometimes shows picture of perfection
But the absence of your touch means less affection.

The gaiety brought by sweet amity
Altogether with cup of honesty
But despite your true love and your fidelity
The absence of your thought brings nothing but anxiety.

Notes from you were very few
To little for us to find our love anew
Absence they say makes the heart fonder
But truly, absence only makes our heart shatter.

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poem by Geraldine Fernandez
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The Magic In My Hands

There is magic in my hands
A glittering pen more magical than wand
It weaves myriad, fantastic stories
Acclaimed, applauded, crowned with lasting glory.

There is magic in my hands
A golden pen more precious than castle grand
It builds hope in the sky where hearts ascended
Strong, unwavering, solidly founded.

There is magic in my hands
A pen that casts warmth better than the sun
It instills love in the core of man
Always jolly and merry, scarcely ever wan.

There is magic in my hands
A pen that races faster than cars of finest brand
It crosses all roads of pain and happiness
Filled up with words of unblemished loveliness.

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poem by Geraldine Fernandez
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