Cynthia Buhain-baello Poems

How many are diverted?
How many get deceived?
They need to be converted
To God truly believe.
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Rushing waves on shores
Caress the rocks in freedom
Moon tides soon to come.
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Their invisible bond never ends
Life cord that ties child to mother
Love connects, as she attends
Unselfish tender care
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Mansions
Hallow abode
A worthless edifice
Without the light of Love and peace
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Echoes from the past may sometimes linger
When the night is darkest and most silent,
Fragments of bitter images, a reminder
Hidden sorrows refrain a lament.
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When I was young and in my prime
I was just an ugly duckling.
I'd stay at home and spend my time
With poetry and my sewing.
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Carefree paper kites soar with childhood dreams
Still in my mind a distant merriment,
Echoes of our laughter and glee it seems
Return with their lost mirth and enchantment.
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My writing is like an essential food
That I need to take in like a deep breath,
Words on a blank page to be understood
By a reader, like a feast he can get.
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I am no angel and I don't pretend,
When provoked, there is rage inside me.
It sort of comes out to seek amends
When the weak is treated unjustly.
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