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Anna-Christina’s Poems - April 30, 2006

I turn to the window, waiting, wondering.

Will the sun rise? The leaves turn?

I feel trapped in my forlorn excuse for a house.

I freeze, I love, I burn.

When will these flowers bloom?

I feel trapped, moping, roping, running back… trapped.


The water flows like a mighty beast, angry, hungry, wanting a feast.

Pebbles, boulders, fight like gladiators, wishing for peace.

A temple for Saturn, in spite of all things.


I’m a bee, flying towards the sea, in harmony, like a bee.

I’m a dragonfly, I eat, I lie, a friend of grasshopper I, with great big eyes.

I’m a ladybug, I munch, I guard, I fly in circles like a ladybug.

We’re bugs!


Graceful, beautiful, pinky-red.

Gorgeous, pretty, a sign from the dead.

Full of life, blossoming, wonderful, light.

I meditate on flowers the whole, long night. 


Shimmering, shining, priceless, bejeweled.

Cloth-of-gold, silver, pearls  

make a dress from the deep.

Puffed sleeves, bows, ruffs, all the gems from the caves.

One stain…poof!

That’s the end of its days.


First crisp, new, like a bird on the wing,

Then it flounders, dieing, a cheetah on a string.

It’s been alive for a score or more, but is

Still light, full of light, for many years more.

I write with a pencil, a forlorn, old thing.

It’s gnawed in the back, as thin as a string.

It’s old, tiered, worn, broken lead.

Nothing is wrote sweeter then with a borrowed pen.


Why is it that some people like tea?

I love it; in fact, I’m addicted.

A drop of honey, a pinch of leaves, and a gallon of water above…

It’s a symbol of peace; a gift from above.

Bright blue sky…up above, angels flying like doves.

Pretty sky, blue sky, clouds of fluff, up there, over there,

A reminder of love…and fluff.

My cat is scratching against that wall.

Do you see her?

Do you see?

She’s a wonderful cat; nice, funny, sweet.

She can jump really high, and knows how to eat treats.

She’s white, with three black socks and two spots.

Do you see her?

Do you see?