Spring Can't Stay Away Forever
Though the long, dark winter days
Have left their mark,
Spring can't stay away forever.
The dreary fields and barren trees,
Made life seem stark,
But spring can't stay away forever.
Though the colors fled the earth,
Just to stay above, and tease us-
But a breath of what we lost;
Scant beauty to appease us.
Still, soon departs the frost
Spring can't stay away forever.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Angel Angel
Angel angel, tell me true-
Is his heart as big and true
As his eyes make me believe?
Angel, angel, tell me please.
Angel, secret friends are rare;
Such kindly faces, liars wear-
But he's a different kind, I think-
Would he stay, if I should blink?
Angel angel, nights are long;
All for him, I'd write my songs;
Angel, whisper in his ear-
Tell him: 'Joy- when you are near.'
poem by Patti Masterman
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Water Me Down
Water me down, water me down; tread me under-
For life's too long, the precious things get sundered;
Take me someplace safe, where we'll find the way,
Where there's no difference, between night and day.
Water me down, water me down; tread me under-
The sky holds back a lot of thunder;
Take me somewhere safe, where love gets born,
Let me bloom on the rose, that has no thorn.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Bessie Was A Cow
Bessie was a cow,
Flower was a goat;
Two better friends
You would never know.
Bessie trimmed the grass,
And Flower ate the weeds;
A pair of better gardeners
You would never need.
Wherever Flower went,
Bessie went there too;
If Flower ate some clothes,
Bessie watched with rue.
If Bessie ate some hay,
Flower ate some clover-
If one passes heaven,
They'll both get over.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Truth Is Dear
More arduous, the truth-strewn path;
More work, with less to do it-
But no wild lies, to keep the charge of:
The beauty of truth shines through it.
Serenity is guard and keeper,
And all the smiles are real;
Between the truths of what we say
Lies more truth: what we feel.
No mistrusting motives here,
When everything's so clear:
Let others have ambiguity-
Because here, truth is dear.
poem by Patti Masterman
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We String Up Our Words Of Pearl
we string up our words of pearl
dangle them, on finest fishing line:
butterflies, and large birds of prey
both are born from the same effort;
a monster, or a holy man
enter in through the same channel
and even though love and hate wrestle
every wee-hour of the dawn
to see which will reign that day,
we are never fearful of the weapon
we hold in our own hand
but only of what they might hold, in theirs.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Jealous Nature
Earthly love so soon corrupts,
And others peace, it interrupts:
The jealous human nature fears
A loss, if other love appears.
It's not our choice; second place
Means loss of power, loss of face;
To give up our own sovereign crown,
And sense the ties that bind, unbound.
If our magic touch seems gone
We think it best to move along;
Place faith then in another heart,
Till death or some new love, doth part.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Souls are born
Souls are born leaders-
But a stranger's come calling,
Trying to open a door;
For sure opening windows.
Soul's all dressed up,
Body lagging behind
Following the bright lights,
Like shepherds hunting babies.
Body the sluggard; body the receptacle
Of so much light, amid time-crazed journeys;
Body follows maps, soul the guiding stars..
Soul knows not where the body's going
But only what happens, when it gets there.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Aww heck
he sleeps in boots
and wades in socks
forgets his key
and picks the locks
he forgets there's work
to take a walk
and when he's fired
he gets a shock
stays up all night
to read a book
and then goes fishing
without a hook
so then he swims
without a suit
since the fishing
now is moot
[...] Read more
poem by Patti Masterman
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The Church Is Built On Bloody Bones
The church is built on bloody bones,
Broken martyrs, burning homes;
The church is built on bloody bones-
Not singing angels, golden thrones.
The church is built on murder, rage,
Plunder, anger and pillage;
The church is built on murder, rage-
There's no escaping murders wage.
The church you choose informs your soul,
If you're shattered, if you're whole;
The church you choose informs your soul-
So be sure it's worthy goal.
poem by Patti Masterman
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