Sophia White Poems

She is sitting, slumped with fatigue.
The candles in the window burned low.
The lights on, lighting your path –
But where are you?
...

Oh, to be in Scotland,
The land of kilts and pipes,
Oh, to see the lochs aglow
Under star strewn nights.
...

The sky, seen through a window,
Is a dead and tasteless hue.
No sight of sun or rainbow,
The gray’s devoured blue.
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She tottles about
A funny toy
I love her so.
Such a joy
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I am currently engaged in a chess match.
The stakes are high – a future.
Somehow when my strategy gets torn
I find a way – to suture.
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The water washes over me
The waves of passing years
A sea that fell from heaven high
A lake of angel tears.
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Through two doors.
Rows of books.
Swinging door.
Eleven to pause.
...

I pluck a daisy from the roadside
Enchanted by the simplicity
Then shamed of my audacity
Place it gently on the ground
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I was here.
There you were.
You a him,
I a her.
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Oh, they are so cruel! They are so cruel!
How can such hate as this exist?
Oh God, dear God, dear mighty God,
How can you let it be?
...