Cynthia Buhain-baello Poems

As precious as the golden sands
That fleeting winds blow freely,
Once in flight, he never lands
And with no leave, departs quickly.
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Allow your fellow poets freedom
With grace, appreciate their words
Whatever they give it will become
A blessing, a touch, that poems accord.
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Perhaps it is futile
To even start
Amends
When all the while
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Broken
Is he who lost
The will for life and love
To hold the future in his heart
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Children have different memories
Of parents who pass away.
While some will forgive freely,
Others remain bitter each day.
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When my son was five years old, we bought him a toy car that was battery operated and had 'bump-and-go' features. After a few hours of play, we discovered he had dismantled it and removed the tiny windshield, and when we asked him why, he said 'I wanted to see the tiny man driving it.' He grew up to be an artist and is now a Senior Creative Graphic Arts executive.
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Vultures
Perched in office
Feed on bloated paychecks
Decayed people not carrion yet
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Across the distant shores
Where Silence dwells with Solitude,
A place I have been before,
Where Peace had been my daily food.
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Just another round of the chess game
Rooks and bishops fall dead on the board

Apolitical horses have gone lame
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Today I watched the falling rain
Rice paddies drinking droplets sweet
Heaven watering farmers' grains
As stalks shoot up their growth to meet.
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