Linda Marie Van Tassell
Linda Marie Van Tassell Poems
The morning is moist with ocean spray.
The islands, they twist around the bay;
and across them all, my eyes have scanned -
the rocky cliffs and the buttes of sand.
I almost think it an Irish isle.
Such beauty to make the heart beguile.
Sunrise stain on a listless ocean
serves to add to the magic potion.
A boat is docked alongside the pier.
A woman and man are standing near.
He is setting sail to ports unseen
upon the gilded Emerald Queen.
Standing on tip-toes to give a kiss,
she cries while pretending unfelt bliss.
Others have perished ...
Trilogy Of Love
Mother's Voice: 'You think you're so special...'
I heard in disbelief; my spirit crushed and beat.
The words of my mother were not gentle nor sweet.
With a sorrowful heart, I obeyed her command
as a slap of thunder resounded from her hand.