Rebecca Lyle

Rebecca Lyle Poems



Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Windshield wipers slapping,

You're Not a Poet, Until- - -

You're not a poet until you make me cry
sometimes make me want to die.



I was asked
Are you afraid to die?

The Wind

It was always my foe
Never my friend

The demon within

Inside the closet of the mind
is where he resides,

Write or Wrong

Everyday, I heard he went to the same bar
Telling stories to his friends, stretching far

The Clock

Its timing is exactly precise
It is not off by even a second

The Breeze

You will never again gaze upon my face.
Betrayal and deceit is a bitter pill best swallowed whole,

The young boy wakes from hunger pains;
knowing there is nothing for him to eat.
He drinks his fill of water, feeling defeat.
His single Mom works 12 hour days

Kaleidoscope of Collaboration

There was a kaleidoscope of collaboration
going on in the sunkissed room

How Patient am I

Your wondrous soul won't let me go,
I shall follow you to the end, my perfect friend,

You Shall Never Know

When the cold winds blow through my soul, you will never know-
When I know I can't go on with this heart torn apart, you will never know-

Cabin Fever Blues

The old fence door is slamming in the wind
Three foot of snow, guess Winter is setting in



At first it is a presence in your body it seems foreign
As if it is not meant to be there, it can even make you sick for awhile

We are Women
We are women, watch us as we rise,
no longer will be objectified.
Men don't even try to womanize

The Magician

He was only nine years old
But he had found magic tricks



You were a King
Yet you wore no crown of jewels

Our Love

Our love is a nebulous in a pitch black sky
Firecrackers bursting on the 4th of July

I am a Dreamer

I am a dreamer, people ask me why
I say because I still believe in the inherent



My mind had had enough, so it left for awhile.
Leaving me Alice in Wonderland, in a purple haze.

The Best Poem Of Rebecca Lyle



Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Windshield wipers slapping,
Rapping to the beat,
Of pouring rain.

Tinkle, tinkle,
Putting me to sleep,
On the tin roof,
In our old farmhouse.

Slapping, slapping,
Hard on my head
Caught in the storm,
Trying to outrun the rain.

Whispers, whispers,
It is calling to me,
Listen to the rhythm,
Of the shadows of rain.

Rebecca Lyle ©02/11/11
Copyright Reserved

Rebecca Lyle Comments

Rebecca Lyle 09 November 2018

How Patient am I was written for a time I felt lost after a breakup.

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Rebecca Lyle 18 February 2017

Was written for my 9 year old grandson when he discovered magic tricks on the internet and a surprise ending.

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