Lycia Harding Poems

Hold a seashell to your ear...
Rest upon it's tranquil tide,
breathe it's calming breezes here,
bring it's subtle strength inside.
...

Love without hope must be my calling.

Calling, just hoping to hear it ring.
...

Wind, waiting while her rainstorm gathers,
gathers up the orphaned Leaves,
leaves some tucked in between the rocks,
rocks some to sleep beneath the Trees.
...

Yes, breathe...

Breathe...! Gasping, into light you're thrown,
Like glass, your turning leaf is blown
...

At midnight, he'll propose a toast
and raise to them a fluted glass
as they gaze, muted, at their host.
...

What will the rain say?
It falls the day your father goes to ground
and palls all hope he loved you anyway,
as it recalls the countless flaws he found.
...

When you catch the Christmas spirit,
spirit it away some where,
where there will be loved one's near it.
It will be so happy there.
...

A thing of beauty on her wrist
is confiscated by a nurse
who looks for items soldiers missed
in places (and by means) much worse.
...

Flakes from earths thin winter coat

coat lakes where skaters spin below.
...

When the wicked winter comes
seeping past the wards she keeps,
she looks on as he succumbs,
thanking God it's while he sleeps.
...