P.S. I Love You Poems of P.S. Colley

  Draped in agile red with a black, fragile head, she lights upon my breeze tattered shirt. Her gay spots sing beneath teeny tiny wings, as she scrambly-ambles for all she is worth. First, she arrives, then others strive to join her, until a single mingling of a clump they have gathered. What do they imagine? What do they plainly see? Some design of lines floating upon a flannelled pattern of a sun-warmed and sunnier me? I guess if I best attract a more amorous universe, then why not also a cheerfully clad ladybug? They say they possess a spirit abundantly generous that delivers a gift of most fortunate daily luck. So come and cover me, shy ladybugs, in your shadow. Rest your wings and bring finer things into my morrow. Ladybug, ladybug, may you rest best upon my throbbing heart's-tired breast as strength streams through me from some gentle ray, into the warmth of another day and together fly skies of fleeting sorrow above into a brighter sunset of the most hig...

  Tough two weeks when the madness came a calling. Tough two days when it walked right through my door. Tough two hours when the sadness left me bawling,        until I dried up and  could cry help no more.  Tough two minutes when fear stalked my inner being. Tough two seconds when I begged some mercy prayer. Tough lives touch others when the rough gets even rougher until the nothing becomes  something from somewhere.                     ~P. S. Colley

      World of white, World of white, What happened while I slept the night? Why did skies turn some sullen gray Then happily fall stark dark away Into softness across a lost wintery day? How dare tiny flakes of peaceful delight Cover all souls in some downward flight, Soft land unheard in piles of bright? The old squirrel stirs within her nest, Her newborns tucked beneath her breast. Does all the earth prepare to rest? Will rabbits nestle, restful in their holes? Will fox kits wrestle, zestful in the cold? Will blue jays raid the chipmunk's hold? Gentle pleasure piled muted deep, Is your heart of mirth of worth to keep Beneath the mounds of silent sleep? World of white, World of white, Will you grow deeper into the night? And if on sweet tomorrow's wake, Will mind find time to contemplate The sunshine sparkle on some garden gate? Will flower bow, burdened with snow, Lose her tender bundles dipping low Into sidewalk puddles dripped below? Will the tabby curl upon porch r...

  Sorrow's Prayer Two strangers within stalk and vie, once again, For another chance to boldly dance across my mind. They hear no music, they laugh no laughter. They have forgotten, promises begotten hereafter. They have played away a play of days that ticked away the clock of a more precious time. One whispers hurt, "Please hear my unspoken silence." One screams proud, aloud from a cold unheard. One pleads for mercy from betrayal's cruel unkindness. One cries, eyes blinded by each piercing, heartless word. One cannot deny the frozen stare of either. One cannot reply, "I dare chose not to be the fighter." One who fights, fights as captive of a dreamer, Dreamt by another, to smother what goes unseen. Gone, all hope of some sane and peaceful solution. Gone, all hope of any amicable resolution. Gone, all hope of soul's united, raging empty into night. Gone, all hope of one within them.......two loves simply die. For neither extends the hand of jo...

If You Were If you were a tear I'd cry you away Then gaily go about my day. If you were a thorn, I'd pluck you out Then wipe blood's drop and sigh aloud. If you were a tree I'd chop you down Then plant a seedling in your ground. If you were an ache I'd take a pill, Then feel relief and sleep so still. If you were a nightmare I'd wake and peep Reassure myself, then back to sleep. If you were a simple thing I'd let you go.... Forgive, forget, and finally go. But you are a man And I am your mate. One can't walk out When bound by fate. ~ P.S. Colley

Guilt Stalking sultry in sleepy shades of silent shadows, guilt awaits one wearied weakness moment when her startled victim fails to think, then she swiftly, slowly sinks to pounce unsuspected, upon them, once again. Assuming her most apt and agile position, she soak-drops deeper into pain-thickened skin. Striking at the tenderest, truest of heart, she tears savagely at each soft, inner part until a ravaging, raging struggle begins. Nagging consistently at each startled, stricken conscious, she denies sweetness of a sane moment's rest, Until desperation has no choice but to raise its wounded voice and scream what one thinks may be best. Laughing at each faintest feeble apology, she chuckles as truth chokes on lie's foolish words. Knowing remorse feels regretfully rotten, when all hope's gone, long forgotten, she retires, relaxes, then rests fully assured That she may lose ground on one's insincere apology while looking on as a nagge...