Nancy Crossman

Nancy Crossman Poems

Oh how many tragic tears,
Must mermaids weep each day?
To leave behind the trail of gems,
Washed up on the shore in the bay.

Blissful whispers, the ebbing tide,
A sated lover’s sigh.
Scintillating breeze against my cheek,
Teasing me with warm salty breath,

Angels walk among us,
But they’re very hard to see.
No wings or halo do they have,
They look like you and me.

Nurtured by mother’s body,
Close to her heart she cradles us.
We are complete – but not whole,
Until she lets us go.

Two rainbows graced the evening sky,
Completely awed, I wondered why.
Brilliant hews of vibrant light,
Glowed in the darkening sky of night.

Took my girl for a buggy ride,
Seated her on the wagon.
Suddenly the horse lifted his tail
And we heard a roaring dragon!

He loved her to the depth of his soul,
Even more than he did his wife;
She was a forbidden lover to him,
He’d been with her most of his life.

My thoughts are precious gems to me,
Echoes of my heart,
They are reflections of who I am,
To me they’re works of art.

Could we really be that ignorant?
To believe Mother Earth would survive,
The abuse we have subjected her to
Just so humans could thrive.

When hope seems just beyond my reach,
And my dreams dissipate swiftly,
Like dewdrops warmed by the morning sun,
When the only friend around,

She has all the answers
and time stretches before her like an eternity...
her own truths resonate loudly within her mind
drowning out all whispers of reason

The most unusual thing you'll ever see
On the road in the land of dragons
Is a little black kitten riding along
In Harley the dragon’s wagon.

Like a princess in a fairytale,
A vision in satin and lace,
She stands before him
Teardrops glistening like diamonds

Solitude envelops the little cottage,
Far away from the milieu of the city,
Night has claimed the evening sky.
Birch trees sway in the brisk autumn breeze,

A whisper carried on the warm breeze,
Was it a mermaid’s sigh?
Could it have been my weary mind,
Echoing thoughts as day slips by.

Sadness weighs heavily upon my heart,
Human tragedy, devastating loss of life;
A struggling nation where poverty is an epidemic,
They faced the wrath of nature yet again.

From the moment we met,
It was as if stars collided in the universe.
My world had forever changed
With the cosmic upheaval

If you saw me lying in the street,
Would you walk on by?
If I was hungry with nothing to eat,
Would you feed me?

The rich, ebony shawl of night resting on the treetops.
Only the whisper of the wind in the silence of the dark forest,
A soft glow from the window of the little cottage nestled in the woods,
With wisps of smoke slowly spiralling through the tall white birch trees.

With night slowly drifting into dawn,
My thoughts are chaotic.
As I ponder my continuing journey
On this new day.

Nancy Crossman Biography

Annabel Sheila grew up in Stephenville, a pretty little seaside town on the west coast of Newfoundland. She now calls Moncton, New Brunswick home and it’s there that she writes about the splendour of nature, the serenity of the ocean, and the wonder of love with a passion that comes from the heart of an author who is one with her muse. She is a member of the Writers' Federation of New Brunswick and has been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Downhome Magazine, Northern Cardinal Review, Feathertale, Travel Itch and many other print and online venues. Her poem, 'Sentinel', won the 2013 Castaways Poetry Competition in Rockingham, Australia.)

The Best Poem Of Nancy Crossman

Mermaid's Tears

Oh how many tragic tears,
Must mermaids weep each day?
To leave behind the trail of gems,
Washed up on the shore in the bay.

Beautifully sculpted sea glass,
Is mermaid’s tears they say,
But it may be magical, mystical dust,
Sprinkled by mermaids at play.

Maybe the sparkling pieces of glass,
Were not really theirs to keep,
So every day, when the tide goes out,
They toss them back onto the beach.

Perhaps they’re being playful,
Teasing us into their game,
They sprinkle treasures for us to find,
Not to join them would be a shame.

My imagination is greatly piqued,
As I comb the beach, deep in thought.
Walking along the ocean floor,
To see what the tide has brought.

Nancy Crossman Comments

i love your poems actually you need to improve your skills in writing.please write more, i invite you to read my poems at my poets page

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Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee 15 January 2010

Big questions in a small poem...

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