Roann Mendriq Poems

There's typo goblin up to tricks,
Hidden words it sneaks and picks;
It lurks within a sweet sonnet,
and gobbles up an alphabet.
...

Who chased the sun-boy from his place?
Whyever not does he appear?
Who wiped the blue from sky-girl's face,
and draped her such grey austere?
...

The human mind is strange, complex,
If you really pause to think;
It can torment, torture, vex,
and push you to the edge, the brink.
...

Santa, busy at his workshop,
prepared for the next year;
When a little child walked in,
and asked in sweet, good cheer...
...

I am learning meditation,
to calm body, breath and mind;
I sit in quiet contemplation,
to seek peace that's hard to find.
...

When promises crumble like pie crust,
When sweet nothings sink like dough;
When the sick, stale stench of distrust,
begins to spread and grow.
...

A luxury quite pure, divine,
a languid afternoon nap;
Nothing can compare with mine,
as I don my siesta cap...
...

A woven veil, of fine gauze mist,
Spun cotton clouds, a dress of lace;
Peach plum lips, wait to be kissed,
Flower buds frame, her smiling face.
...

Marigolds heaped in joyous confusion,
Scattered fern like fine green lace;
White Champa piled in fine profusion,
like baskets brimming... icing glace.
...

The tree stood proudly, tall, erect,
bereft of flower or fruit or leaf;
Without a verdant veil bedecked,
Naked, bare without relief.
...