Anastasia Rhobolonskaya

You have set their souls in my hands, Lord,
Given their faith to my keeping.
I am to shepherd them,
Lead them forward through spear and sword.
...

They’ve said it is not meant to be,
Such a thing is surely doomed.
They’ve said that two and two is three,
Just as everyone knows.
...

The Fuller’s house on Rivermont Avenue was close enough to the sidewalk that a passerby’s shadow tended to startle them by popping out at the first corner of slate grey siding and remaining close to their side like an intimate acquaintance until the last of Mrs. Fuller’s azaleas and the same siding had been left behind. It was rather new, having been built only a couple of years after the first baby had been born; a necessity as the last bungalow became sadly inadequate. The size of the new house - over forty rooms, most unused - was unnecessary however as Maude turned out to be the only baby, as well as the first.
“You promise not to take too long Maudie? ”
“I already told you Ma. Of course not.”
“Good ‘cause I’m going to need those greens for your daddy’s dinner. You know how he loves his greens.”
...

There’s permanence in creation
Something eternal in the sky
It watches the rise and fall of many
And knows the reason why
...

A familiar face, more welcome than spring
A familiar face, one best beloved
A familiar face, gifts of memory to bring
A familiar face – no more have I.
...

You asked why I so loved the sea
Despite it’s cruel salted roar
The answer seemeth clear to me:
When all else changes hour by hour
...

What is the meaning of life ended so soon?
Of death, sudden, under the wide eyed moon?

They wakened the children from their beds,
...

I believe I should like to be a cloud
Such a glorious, airy thing!
For I’d close to God in the sky rest,
Where daily, angels sing
...

Shadows creep
Shadows lurk
Shadows wildly dance and jerk
I little fear the dark,
...

I felt a song within my mind
Vibrating through my soul
It and the sun were of the same kind:
A gold-bright joy and brilliance
...

A lion lay sleeping on my heart
His bulk calling and kissing the ground
And for fear of what he might do
I resigned to make nary a sound
...

My heart lives again,
Awakening with a cry.
I feel it stir in my breast,
A beast that can never die.
...

If you meant me for a martyr,
Why the early morn of bliss?
If you meant for him to leave,
Why that soft, soft kiss?
...