Holly Jamestone Poems

You gently slipped into my heart
The way stocking feet grace a hardwood floor
And you brushed my hair back from my face
To study who I really was
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Iggy waits beside the door
Sleeping on the shelf of old
Dreaming till his mum returns
O, if Kitty’s dreams be told
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Haunting, evil on my back
Leave me be from your attack
Tainted keyhole filled with hate
Thoughts of death hard to abate
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My jaw dropped when I heard my name
I didn’t know what to say
The words stuck in my throat, I guess
I chose to drive away
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She has a birthday in the winter all right
And she arrived with the wind-driven snow
Born at Grandma’s house in frigid South Dakota
That December so very long ago
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This time the cloak of your miserable life
Crashed onto my head so hard
It nearly sent me to my knees
As your screaming pierced my eyeballs
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The house was quiet as a cat in stocking feet
When I saw the black boot, snow on its tip
Silently dangling just above the ornate andiron
At the opening to the fireplace
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I saw an Angel in the clouds
But didn’t know her name
Which didn’t seem to matter
Her love still felt the same
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Blue

The sky at the beach with the seagulls who are nearly in our reach
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I listened to the vigil
And cried with those who wept
We celebrated “lives, ” though lost
Whose memories will be kept
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