Cynthia Buhain-baello Poems

The eyes are windows of the heart
Wherein transparency will show
A myriad feelings to impart
From where in sadness, tears do flow.
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I met a doctor who had cancer,
He could not believe it was stage four.
At sixty, to me he was younger,
He said he still had a lot to live for.
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Each time I hear a baby's laughter
I feel a tickle in my heart.

I have to stop and listen better
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Charm is deceptive and may not be sincere,
And beauty of a face may not soon be here.
As fleeting as Time, that faded Yesterday-
Appearances do not last, it can wither Today.
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Consummate pain
Like a cruel wrench
Gripped his heart
And crushed, it bled
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He died a hero
In a war of vague purpose
We really don't know
What it was for, I suppose.
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War undeclared has been there existing,
From a seething anger underneath that grows.
Persistent and nurtured Hate boiling
Reaps the bitter grapes of wrath it sows.
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A hidden terrorism,
Without an iota of shame-
This vile plagiarism-
More than stealing a name.
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Strange how Life can be more than a story
Plots and characters bring a pleasant thrill
With laughter and tears, some sad and funny
Tragedies and heartaches may bring Pain's chill.
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A heart that worships is so emptied
Of fears, of doubts and worrying
It speaks in joy for what God did
In praise and thanks it always sings.
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