Linda Marie Van Tassell Poems

All the love I have ever known
is the love that I gave to you,
a fruitless seed that I have sown
from which no blossoms ever grew.
...

I am but a voice, a silent word,
written on paper, seen and not heard,
an echo of heart to touch your soul,
sweet pangs of sorrow's bitter control.
...

So Special

Mother's Voice: 'You think you're so special...'
...

You came into my life like a windstorm;
and like a leaf, I got carried away.
You colored me in your passionate hues
like ink on silk on the bare skin of day.
...

Spring yawns; and blossoms spill into my ear,
as winter breaks the mirror of a tear.
Eyes rhapsodize in piquant shades of blue.
Kisses fall soft as rain in morning dew.
...

Dress me like poetry in silk stanza stockings,
in pearls of metered verse on a syllabic strand.
Brush rhythm through my hair and rhyme on my lashes,
and paint me in tones of syntax and sonnet sand.
...

Far away on a billow
an angel lays down his head
upon a cloud-tufted pillow
with a sky-line for his bed.
...

Soft caresses in the twilight hush.
Eyelids closed in a state of ecstasy.
He is the painter; his tongue is the brush
sliding down the canvas of my body.
...

I went to church on Sunday to give praise unto the Lord,
and I found myself worshipping among the faithless hoard.
O! They dressed the part, gave their tithes, and even shook my hand.
The preacher spoke of love and life, of God's great Promise Land.
...

Once more - once only - I wish I could be
soft as a zephyr in the morning light,
warm, remembering, what you'll never see,
what I gave and you lost without a fight.
...