Airda Jones Poems

The hands are stained
With effort and sweat
And a foreboding promise
Of not to regret
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Would it not be a miracle
To raise up the right hand
To forsee what was created
For the simple place of man
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What if you don't know how
And then when you turn around
There's no one to help you out
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Only I can be the one
To ponder twenty years
And some hours in between
To confront futuristic fears
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How many tears have we shared?
Countless, more than the ages
Of this earth have seen upon
It’s romantic thousands of pages
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Meadows of gold to the eye
Grown to wild nature, glow
With glimmer that knows
No shine greater to I
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It is a quiet night
Perfect, wouldn’t you say
To steal each other and
Follow the moon’s way
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My breath envies its distance
As it wants to mingle with
The misty warmth that tempts it
Coming from the sinful rift
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Soft stars that appeal to the eye
And sparkle like night lights to the sky
Darkness that no fear to relate
Lonliness, a feeling has that decides to abate
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Peach blossoms greet me soft
While green shimmers in the loft
Grazing winds bring swift heat
And brush ever so lightly against the cheek
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