Helen Crutchett Poems

To me you are the song
Sweet nightingales trill.... long
In the lonely traces
Of music's empty spaces.
...

The old woman looked in the mirror
Searching for the girl she used to be
Then one day through swirling mist,
A child smiled back at her.
...

Poet of my heart
Whose poetry is penned
By flickering candlelight
With ancient quill dipped
...

Your poems are the ties that bind
From this moment I cast away
The heavy garment of disillusionment.
Your poet's passion reaches me
...

Swirling snowflakes
Share their secrets
I hear them whisper
As they softly sway.
...

I can't catch cool verbs
Summer is groaning,
missing Autumn's
damp carpets of spongy
...

You don't hear my heart's melodies. or
Care about the poems I compose
In my lonely midnight hours...
...

They sat by moonlight's glow
Pledging their dying love.
The sky lit up with the redness
Of Mars and in their arms they
...

Don't be foolish said the Sun...
Don't be fooled, said the Moon...

Your eyelids are heavy with sleep
...

Brush away the fluffy clouds
Draw back the veil that darkens
The delicate moon, translucent as
The first blush of a summer rose,
...