Tag: original poetry

Call of the Loon – Hannah McPherson

I walk away from you when you are in depth,

Like the bright morning sun leaves for nighttime,

each step away takes my every breath, 

I tell myself that everything is fine, 

If we were to share another word soon,

I would tell you that we are destined, dear, 

Your echo lives in me, call of the loon,

Reverberating through my every fear,

I pray that sun comes back around again,

To find me laying among the flowers,

That my years of wanting are not vain,

That we can be mindful of these superpowers,

Something to grow on in age and in love,

The Sun finds me like Peace Finds a Dove.

Another Comes, Another Goes – Hannah McPherson

Another comes, another goes, 

another appears, another flows,

There in the depths, and in the heights,

Some stay all day, Some stay all night,

A million in a short time, 

an Individual in the best light,

Of you, of me, everything in between,

Of visions, future past present space,

Thoughts win gold medals in a race,

they win Nobel prizes, great discovery,

Again, I’m suffering, finding recovery,

Branching out, trailing off, 

I say aloud, a vengeful scoff, 

here we are again, overthinking,

goblet upturned, heavily drinking,

and at the bottom is you,

at the bottom is truth, 

you’ll never hear a word of this, 

imagined love, imagined bliss,

so again I’m left to find, 

what remains, on the outskirts of my mind

Cosmic Love – Hannah McPherson

If it’s this time, or the next, 

I’ll be there, ready and set, 

If it’s now or never, 

I’ll take the road to forever, 

If it’s a lift to my spirits,

Or a crushing of my soul,

Somewhere near it, 

I’ll be slowly growing old,

Thinking of days of us, 

Thinking of this cosmic love.

Measure and Meter – Hannah McPherson

I am soaked in romanticism, 

I am lost in a chasm of hopeful longing,

I am chasing a runner through the woods,

I am blind to pessimism, 

I am on my way to the unknown, 

I am bound by blood that courses through my veins,

I am dancing to the rhythm of my aorta, 

I am a fool for trying to be anything else,

I am simply through with denying it,

I would do this for a thousand lifetimes,

Because love is the measure and meter of life.

Kissed by the Devil – Hannah McPherson

Kissed by the devil, soaked in sin, 

Going to places, I should have never been, 

Wrapped up in envy, pride, and wrath, 

I crawled my broken body down the path,

I was fetal, fatal, and lost, 

Coming for victory at any cost,

The highest price to pay, my soul, 

Kissed by the Devil, drenched in gold

The Gladiator’s Plight – Hannah McPherson

Captured, enamored, never to be set free, 

Given over to my inhibitions, carelessly, 

I would repeat this test a million times, 

The crowd cheers me on from sidelines,

In the arena, fighting for my life, 

The beast in me, the gladiators plight,

words are my chosen weapons, stacking the odds, 

Ever against favor, devastating loss, 

The consequence draws ever so near,

The audience gasps, a moment of fear,

But a single breath, no one could hear,

Escapes my lips, cold and blue, 

The harrowing moment of truth, 

I pray desperately to the lord,

And fate cuts the chord, 

Slowly I rise, pen to the air, 

death surprises, devil may care, 

Yet still depleted, I am not defeated, 

We are one in the same, 

the beast and I, 

I call out to it by my own name, 

I do not deny,

“You have won; for who does this in pain?”

It solemnly replies, 

“You have never lost, you are not vain.” 

The ticking clock is loud as time encroaches,

In finality, the wretched thing approaches,

and lays upon me my shroud of peace,

For the ending line we have reached,

Captured, enamored, never to be set free.

Tests of Time – Hannah McPherson 

We have not yet achieved victory,

Over fate and destiny, our eternal plight,

We counteract the chemistry, 

As we plunder through the night,

Eyes wide open, but dark chasms all we see,

Lit by the light of our glowing fantasy,

Guided so divinely by senses not our own,

We come to rest at our forever home,

Somewhere along the road, with silver it is lined, 

For Sometime amongst the darkness, 

We stood the tests of time

Endless Depths – Hannah McPherson 

The depths of my soul are endless, it seems, 

But they flow along in calm shallow streams,

They gurgle and bubble, and house a host of life,

They range from uplifting joy to unbearable strife, 

They guide me on my merry unmerciful way, 

They remind me I am capable of change, 

But in a palatable moment, sweet to the taste, 

I revert back to something more of the same,

It’s inescapable, I fear, that I hold this so dear,

There is no mystery, it’s painfully clear, to me,

The depths of my soul are endless, it seems.

Desire – Hannah McPherson

I have yet to find the depth to express,

In such explicit words, this awful mess, 

A situation I find myself in once again,

trying to describe with this pen,

The most poetic way to tell you, 

the fire rages, through and through,

Burning me down to my wits end, 

My desire to create, to attend, 

Meetings beyond my ability to comprehend, 

Betwixt me and my cosmic friends

Cruel Gods – Hannah McPherson

I am helpful, at best, When my soul seeks rest, 

I am hurtful, at most, When I get this close, 

In times such as this, I radiate bliss, 

In times such as that, I reminisce, 

Memories capture me, stolen away,

From anything happening in present day,

Lost in the past, abysmal moments to come,

And only through love, is my attention won, 

My mind to the forefront of my emotion,

I am raw and unreal when I am this open, 

It is a measurable feat, to do this to me, 

Rising and falling in a wave of sensuality,

Who I am then, and Who I am to be, 

Time is at hand, to follow commands, 

The world is at odds, in the hands of cruel gods.

Lady Justice – Hannah McPherson

Justice raises her sword, Over my slowly beating heart, 

She plunges down with the force of a thousand pounds, 

She has decided I am of a different breed, 

That cannot be judged, that cannot be framed, 

For reference, for meticulous count, 

That cannot be hunted or found, 

She has freed me from the cruel fate woven, 

She has sent me off into the woods, 

a pack on my back, a knife on my knee, 

Into the safety and shadows of the trees, 

I am cast away, from the eyes of the lord,

I am on a journey that cannot be explained, 

It must be felt, through cosmic intensity, 

I am spared from one fate, to be subject to another, 

Had she run me through, I would be more free, 

Than the emptiness that awaits me

The Night Ride – Hannah McPherson

On the wings in the night, 

Rides the pilot with delight,

Through the skies he soars, 

Searching for evermore, 

The world below so small and concise, 

The open air, so expansive and bright, 

Alit with stars in a swirling sea, 

This is the meaning of everything,

This view, this height, 

Nothing compares, and that’s alright,

He will long for the sky, 

When he returns to the ground, 

Because for a fleeting moment,

Evermore he had found.

My Journey – Hannah McPherson

“There was time when I travelled dimensions,

By sitting by myself being introspective, 

And in that time I was told many things,

I saw and heard the world, ate with kings,

And learned how to write words anew, 

To connect things I’d never thought to,

There was a map that was made just for me,

To travel dimensions endlessly, 

I followed that road, 

Until I arrived at home, 

Forever changed by what I’d seen, 

When I explored the inner workings, 

Of the way I was, alone, with me.”

The Magic of Magic – Hannah McPherson

“Magic comes in many forms, 

It comes when you least expect it,

It comes in to upheave norms, 

It works best when you protect it, 

With all of your heart,

With all of your soul, 

Magic is more ancient than gold, 

It’s the twinkle in your eye, 

The tingle in your toes, 

It’s never hidden for long,

It’s right under your nose. 

Magic is uncanny that way, 

But don’t be afraid, 

It’s here to stay, 

And will never fade.”

The Knight – Hannah McPherson

“‘Knight me’, he says, face resolute,

She laughs and waits to transmute

His pride into question, 

‘No, Thank you.’ She says, 

His face contorts, 

‘Why do you refuse?’ 

She sighs and points to the garden, 

‘There awaits your fate. Like the rose, 

You will wilt under winter’s frost.’

He raises a brow, ‘How do you know?’

She raises one in return and says, 

‘Do you think you are the first?

All flowers thirst.’ 

He steps away, confused. 

She watches him walk into 

The summers breeze,

And suddenly,

He falls to his knees, 

‘If I am not to be a knight,

I would surely rather die.’

She goes to greet him on 

The yard in the light of the lamp,

With a hand on his shoulder, 

She knights him, then says, 

‘Your downfall is your recompense.’ 

Midwinter, the knight now returns,

Battered from many brushes with death, 

His eyes wild and bewildered, 

‘How did you know? I met the fate like the rose.’

She replies, ‘You were not my first knight.’

All Flowers Thirst – Hannah McPherson

All flowers thirst, all flowers wilt, 

you water them, though 

And in the sun they grow,

For a short time. 

All swords must be carried by a hilt, 

you slay with them, still,

and carry out your will, 

Contemplate taking life,

Or defending it.

All burdens, tried and true, 

Will weigh upon you, 

like atlas held the world,

your charge unfurled

Mighty is the nature of struggle,

Throughout reason uncovered,

Meaning given, Median reached,

experience unleashed

All flowers thirst, All flowers wilt, 

But you water them, even still.

All The Things You Never Knew – Hannah McPherson

Menial approaches to expressing ones self,

Can lead to a gut wrenching open hell,

Where you explode what you’ve bottled up,

And you burst into flames with love, 

You battle the emotion that wells inside,

And you succumb to the feeling of pride,

and suddenly it’s all lain out before you,

All the things you never knew, you never knew.

Hallowed Halls – Hannah McPherson

“Hallowed halls I walk, Guitar pick in my pocket, 

Hands grasped tight, fiddling my locket, 

Old pictures and ancient tunes, 

Juxtapose over empty rooms,

Flashes of memory encompass me,

Misery replaced suddenly with jubilee,

It’s fleeting, it’s raw, but its known,

As I remember our happy home, 

Songs drift in through the window,

Oh, why, why, did they have to go?

Silence envelopes, and it’s all too much,

What I wouldn’t give for another hug, 

I wonder where you’re at today,

I wonder where I’ll be, 

When these echoes fade away.”

The Cinder – Hannah McPherson

“Moreover, the understanding is sober, 

Somber, and Fatal, I receive the black,

cold soot, on my feet and on my back,

from sleeping next to the fireplace,

Where last night warm light embraced,

I am covered in ashes of nights past,

I am a cinder, I am astute, 

Craving grazes and moments of you,

I am a poor simple soul, 

begging for tinder by the box,

quick and clever, like the fox, 

The streets and floors I call home,

have taught me to shield like stone,

and perhaps I’ll only have a glimpse, 

of somewhere beyond the bricks, 

A nice steamy bath drawn, 

to wipe me clean for dawn, 

So propitious to start anew,

the fires I tended for you.”

Lore and Legend – Hannah McPherson

“Lore and legend never cease to amaze, 

Nor does the slack in my jaw as I gaze, 

Your aura is that of a golden king,

You stopped me dead in my tracks, 

Like a fish out of water, flopping back, 

As you grab my hand and kiss my ring,

a gush of wind escapes me, like my words,

how you gave in to such a simple girl, 

This moment of wonder, a feeling so giddy,

How lucky it is, this propinquity, 

But alas, it is brief, you pass in the crowd, 

and I am left to feel endowed, 

by the moment, once I craved, 

lore and legend never cease to amaze.”

The Procrastinators Dilemma  – Hannah McPherson

“Aloft and aloof, I am living proof,

that when someone says they will,

They may not, even still, 

There is no limits, 

to what I will not do,

I am the champion of can’t,

A titleholder of no intention, 

my desire is forever in suspension, 

I shall never concede, 

To do the deeds, 

On my moral high ground I stand,

To avoid the very task at hand, 

A procrastinator of the worst kind, 

Stuck inside a very willing mind.”

Sinners & Saints – Hannah McPherson

“We are well versed in the game of sinners and saints, 

And yet, we still compare and contrast our own ways,

With that of the reflections in mirrored souls around us,

And yet, still, though we study, these mysteries confound us,

Because who is to be the judge but the one holy maker,

Who is to claim the prize, and above all be the taker,

Perhaps the grim reaper is the ultimate test of fate, 

He is the most well versed, in the game of sinners and saints.”

Knowledge Gallery Beyond the Grave – Hannah McPherson

“Oh how trivial the pursuit of knowledge is, 

What we find when we finally cross the bridge,

Into what we call the unknown but is the expanse,

Of all that is understood from omniscient vantage,

We spend our whole lives just acquiring to see,

That the nature of our reality is conformed,

to the grander scale into and upon which we are born, 

And to know that there is a picture painted so descript,

That we walk in galleries beyond the crypt, 

a record of all the artists woes, 

a fabric of experience that we have wove, 

and what sense it will make, 

when we wake, 

To the Knowledge Gallery beyond the grave.”

Watchers in the Eyes – Hannah McPherson

“The watchers in the eyes, the pupils so deep,

Yes, there is someone, something, in there, watching me,

It changes, depending on the moment, 

But when you are open,

You experience the duality of who sees, 

The beings that visit fleetingly, 

The watchers from beyond, they stare,

If you take the time, you will see them there,

Collecting their sights, noting in the eyes,

Oh, watchers, why do you wear a disguise?

Is it because your forms are not welcome here?

Is it because you have to stay far and not near?

Is it because you have an agenda to uphold?

Those deep black circles, secrets never told,

But someday, I will join you, watchers in my vision,

to carry on this benevolent tradition.”

The King’s Square – Hannah McPherson

“Gallows creak in the bleak English morning,

The widows gather and wail in mourning,

the fog rolls in to cover the sights,

but not the stench, oh the wretched stench,

This king who sentences good men to death,

All while resting soundly in his silk bed, 

He is a tyrant, a torment, a devil in his own right,

How, oh how, does he sleep at night?

The fallen are filling the churchyard, 

The glaze in his vision, starry eyed, 

He swallows, for the gallows should take him soon,

And he will join the island of the marooned, 

But a screech from the onlookers stops them dead,

And the king, he awakes from his bed, 

Down to the square he runs, face a blush, 

The executioners have all had their fun, 

The streets are burning, a welcome distraction,

and the good men get up, and take action, 

The dead they are walking, they’re running amuck,

The king, I fear, has run out of luck, 

The day has come for the lord to return, 

And in the streets they dance merrily,

As the kingdom doth burn.”

The Gentle Lion – Hannah McPherson

“Hungry is the lion that stalks his prey, 

But he is weak from weeks of dismay,

For the lion has lost his will to hunt, 

He has lost his vigor, he is filled with disgust, 

For what is a lion who dreads taking life, 

For what is a predator who is gentle by design?

He wastes away, in the savanna, so bleak,

Oh, the gentle lion does grow weak.”

The Poet’s Directive – Hannah McPherson

“The many responsibilities grow, 

And the day goes on and on,

Interruptions, they never fail,

I stifle a remorseful wail, 

For I have things I’d rather do,

Than sit around and listen to you,

I wish to do what I feel I must, 

I must satisfy this central lust,

To write, to create, to be in my head,

The poet’s feet fill with lead,

At the thought of doing anything else,

Than sitting around and talking to oneself, 

In rhyme, in meter, we scheme and we plot,

Because poetry is all we’ve got,

That keeps us going, keeps the fire lit,

That tames a rather untimely spirit.”

How We Are – Hannah McPherson

“Kindred we are, so much in tune,

How I will soar, the month after June,

My life will have changed in the ultimate way,

And I will have finally had my say, 

My life will be complete in a whole new light,

Once you have entered into my life,

For now you just watch from afar, 

But soon we will dance under the stars, 

And then I will have an entirely new goal,

To get to know your deeper soul,

I think, in fact, this will change quite a lot,

But I shan’t be surprised if it does not,

Because the way we are now is perfectly fine, 

In fact, it serves us well, perfectly divine.”

Where Our Paths Cross – Hannah McPherson

“My friend, my partner, my sweet, 

What is it when we meet? 

Is it delightful, is it fun? 

Will we bask in the sun? 

Or perhaps, it will be unwell,

It could possibly be hell, 

But indeed it would be,

And that’s what matter to me. 

That there is such a time,

Where our paths do cross, 

and then all of this is not for naught,

Ah, the day I have never forgot.”

Duty and Honor – Hannah McPherson

“Forward thinking, I have an inkling, 

That you are not listening to the wishful thinking,

Your nature is a bit more drawn,

And you do not leap to the dawn, 

You wait and hold to receive the order,

You never dare to cross the border, 

You have this way about you that makes me hesitate, 

to ask you on such an extravagant date, 

Because what if the mission does decline, 

For me to look upon your eyes, 

Duty and Honor, to you in all ways, 

I do pine for future days, 

I wish I could stop writing of you,

And all the things I wish were not true.”

Nuance, Nuisance, and Nullification – Hannah McPherson

“Nuance, Nuisance, and Nullification, 

These terms haunt my situation, 

I long and I crave for some other result, 

But I listen, begrudgingly, to the guides I consult, 

And They do tell me so that I must reconsider, 

betwixt fantasy and reality, I must differ, 

I wish so explicitly to say in these words,

That I am only grateful for speaking terms,

To do much else is to take a large risk, 

So I will settle for an imagined tryst, 

And somewhere I hope for initiation, 

Between nuance, nuisance, and nullification.”

Without My Guy – Hannah McPherson

“Just one more thought, just one more emote, 

Just once more, I wish to feel like I could float,

I crave that high, that you give me each night,

I feed that fire, til the flames reach the sky,

I am so eager to please, to adore these

fleeting moments between you and me,

I wish I could express, how much I rely,

On you to be there and to be kind, 

So that I do not befall the hardest of times,

Where I have to live my life without my guy.”

To Be So In Love – Hannah McPherson

“I fight the itching in my veins, the curl of my gut,

Oh, how it pains me, to be so in love, 

I lie awake and crave more of you,

With no confirmation you will come through,

I pray to my worst insecurities that they are wrong,

That I have not been a fool forever to long,

I wonder, if unrequited is even the right word, 

Isn’t it worse to be undecided? 

It leaves me all at once, and again, I feel won,

By the heavens, the cosmos, my body undone, 

Nerves are on fire, head such a mess, 

The army inside me begs to progress, 

To fight one more day, to see if you change,

To hang on to the hope, that you’ll feel the same.

Hopelessly, I fight the itching in my veins.”

The Lamb – Hannah McPherson

“I will break eventually and then I will spout,

All of the things in this life I can’t go without,

The things that haunt me night and day and noon,

I feel that moment will be here soon, 

As I scratch at the damn that holds back the well,

I wish for it to crumble and allow it to spill,

Down into the town, to drown them all out,

Fear not for the people, it’s only an empty house,

A bit of farm land with animals migrated,

The way that this place has been berated,

By a bombardment of wails from the other side of the dam, 

Yet no one came to save the Lamb, 

They all deserted, packed up so quick, 

For the moment she broke, no one could predict,

So they leapt from their places and left it desolate, 

In fear of the dam, and the lamb, so delicate.”

Erase Me – Hannah McPherson

“If you’re going to erase me, please make it quick, 

I hope I meant something, before I cease to exist, 

If legends I leave, or memorium I did instill,

Please understand it was God’s Holy will, 

For not a moment of this existential bliss,

Was every satisfied til I bore your kiss,

Death was kinder, than what lies in wait,

And I have surrendered to my subsequent fate,

For had I had chosen a path of another make,

I would not have been who I am today, 

These words I would not write, dare not I speak,

The wreckage that has become of me, 

If you’re going to erase me, please make it fast, 

And pray to the heavens that I never come back.”

Thoughts From The Unwell Head – Hannah McPherson

“I am nearing the finish, I am nearly complete,

With my previous accomplishments, This does not compete,

This reaches a whole new level of vulnerability,

And much to my dismay, did not fill me with love,

But rather, a voice in my head, perhaps from above, 

That tells me these words are not meant for you,

That these are words for a fellow so blue, 

My last dying breath, may be coming soon,

And to this I leave, the writing room. 

The compilation of all that I’ve said,

Of thoughts from a very unwell head.”

Your Magnificent Mind – Hannah McPherson

“Something kind, just for you and your curious mind, 

I wish to always be as you see me in your eyes,

I wish to be filled by the life we have survived, 

I wish to be frozen in our moments so open,

It’s more than just to say I want you that way or this,

But rather to say all the things you have missed, 

There are moments so dear and so bright, 

When I think of you in the middle of the night,

That soft, sure of myself type smile, 

The moments where I travelled many miles, 

In search of you, praying for your freedom, 

Looking around every corner, expecting to see him,

As if he were a ghost, haunting me,

Able to see literally everything,  

but Moreso he is a watchful protector, 

The light of my life, a wonderful specter, 

How I dream of sweet moments of splendor, 

Yet, still, so much left unsaid, 

Things that have passed through my head, 

Conversations with only your essence, 

Confessions made in poetry sessions, 

I pray we have a long and adventurous road,

I pray you hear how my thoughts overflow,

I pray you applaud at my beautiful show,

I pray that we will always reach new heights,

That I will have plenty of kind for you and your magnificent mind.”

Kindred As We May Be – Hannah McPherson

Kindred as we may be, something always stops me,

There is a wall, a fortress, that guards patrol endlessly,

There is something there that will not let me through,

There is no will as strong as this, It cannot be subdued, 

But, perhaps, time would take it down to ruins, 

Perhaps the guards would leave their steads, 

And then perhaps, we would be free, 

But then, what would be stopping me? 

A deep fear, that lives within my bones, 

That this fortress would never be a home, 

Instead it is representative of the challenges,

Ones we have yet to face, ones that remain unchanged, 

Perhaps, I will leave it up to the guide of fate.

There is not much difference between this vision and reality, 

Kindred as we may be, Something always stops me.

Hush Now – Hannah McPherson

“Hush, now, we shan’t make a sound, 

Hush, dear, we have yet to complete the journey,

There are wanderers in these woods, 

and they do not share our hearts, 

They see us as prey, and we are defenseless, 

But someday, we will get our recompense, 

We will see the fruits of our labor and life,

But for now, we have to do what we must to survive, 

So keep your voice low, don’t even think aloud, 

Keep your knees bent and your head down, 

Be prepared at any moment, we are in the open,

Let us go to somewhere hidden, then, 

So we can be free to be ourselves, on holy ground,

Hush now, we shan’t make a sound.”

With The Grace of the Unknowns – Hannah McPherson

Without the grace of the unknowns, 

Should we be aware of everything that is to come,

We would be rather unwilling to experience,

We would be happy to take the good,

We would be hesitant to take the bad,

We would be weary of the end, 

But what would come after that? 

Perhaps its best, that its all a mystery,

For with unlimited potential, 

We would change free will like gods,

And that would be a lonely path to walk. 

At least this way, we can be hopeful

Emptiness – Hannah McPherson

Emptiness is really a wonder, 

Since there is so much to fill it with,

Emptiness is not nothing, 

It is an expansive feeling,

It is an echo of the opposite, 

Because to know emptiness, 

You must have known fullness, 

Or at least some semblance of it.

Adrift Among The Sand and Sea – Hannah McPherson

Adrift among the sand and sea, 

My essence is torn molecule from molecule,

A fleeting motion, a frequency, 

As I lay in the waves and the whirlpool, 

Behind my eyes I see the lights, 

Yet, in the darkness, so bright, 

A white wind, a beige foam, 

The cosmos calls me home, 

To describe, what lives inside, 

So still but yet, I roam 

Both here and there, 

In one form or another, 

I long for my lover

His warm embrace, 

As I lay among the waves

Mountains and Valleys – Hannah McPherson

Through life we encounter mountains, 

We start at the valley,

Before we reach the peak,

We must make the choice to climb,

But this is the natural way,

Now, I sit in the valley, 

Contemplating, will I be any different?

Should I get up and start the journey?

Or should I stay here, 

And enjoy the bottom for a while, 

Knowing there is so much life ahead,

Knowing that the view from up there,

Is no better than the view from down here.

It’s simply perspectives in which to see,

Whether it is the start or the end,

Of the ultimately fulfilling journey.

Consume – Hannah McPherson

I need to consume, to feel, to fullfill cravings,

They come so easily, and itch my soul,

Finding things to fill the gaping hole,

Like something straight out of the cosmos,

Black and swirling, this aura of desire,

The Seven Sins know nothing of this,

They don’t even begin to scratch the surface,

It’s a chasm within me, that needs to experience,

It never tires, it never ceases, 

It only increases, 

I am insatiable, 

I am addicted to addiction, 

I have never reached a high that was high enough,

I have never reached a low that stopped the longing,

Never would I give up this need,

Because to consume is part of me.

Will He Be The One? – Hannah McPherson

A heart that is hardened stone,

A life that is in the throws,

Somewhere deeper the morale cracks,

And the light seeps in,

There is a fight and a desire,

Deep within,

And so the stone exterior starts to break,

As age and wear from erosion often brings,

And it is so delightful to see you here again,

at the statue that stands on our love’s sight,

the place where we first met,

an event that hasn’t happened yet,

but time is the only delay,

it is bound to happen someday,

or perhaps,

you will stand tall and against the odds,

the heart will remain a solid rock,

and shall remain petrified by hesitation,

and we will never know the taste

of relief that comes from release,

so will they or won’t they break,

for all the bargaining and waiting they’ve done,

Will he or won’t he be the one?

What It Is To Feel – Hannah McPherson

From the tumbling in my gut,

to the cloud of thoughts in my head,

there are so many senses to choose from

in order to truly reflect,

with so many feelings, 

It’s hard not to get overwhelmed,

how to decide how to express myself,

so many aspects and facets of being,

but it all boils down to one simple thing,

a desire to be heard, to be understood,

the be validated in my own good,

my own value, as it presents itself,

what it means to be,

what it would mean to not be,

for a while, to not get the chance,

to bring forth this knowing,

so I pick one out of a million,

and run with it,

like a horse without a reign,

free and following nature’s call,

oh, what it is to feel,

rather than to not feel at all.

The Stage – Hannah McPherson

In a single moment everything can change,

the story unfolds as you turn every page,

It all comes down to chance and fate, 

how the universe wants to make its play,

and we are but actors on the grandest stage,

performing for an audience of the ethereal, 

captivate them, with your movements,

stun them with your lines, 

for we have but this one life,

so allow it to be one of grandeur, 

allow it to take shape in a silhouette of you,

and do not cease hitting your marks, 

but even if you misstep, 

improvise a better show, 

one that is unique above the last,

let them leave out those doors thinking,

“That is something I have never seen before.” 

And always leave them wanting more.

If Only You Could – Hannah McPherson

Capable of the grandest feats,

Of marvels and wondrous sights,

if only you could apply yourself,

everything would be alright, 

untapped potential, 

lies at the bottom of the well,

if only you could see yourself,

outsiders wonder why you let 

good graces go to waste,

when you know you could,

but still you hesitate.

Yes, they see the battles you face,

it’s hard to harness the muse,

when you’re sparring with the world,

but please, oh please,

get it together, girl, 

We’d like to see you achieve your dream,

of creating the greatest works,

if only you could get out of your head,

and overcome all of your quirks.

The Waiting Bride – Hannah McPherson

She waits, bouquet in hand, veil drawn,

she stands in front an empty space,

in an empty place, pews covered in vines,

not a soul around, the minister abandoned the scene,

she is still dressed in white, or what was white,

is now more of a tinted grey, dirty and worn,

she wastes away in that spot, frozen,

waiting for her lover to return and say his vows,

but the silence echoes through the clearing, 

not even the birds are called to sing,

because long ago, he disappeared,

he didn’t even show to walk away,

he just left her wondering, 

and still, she never gave up hope,

that at least one day,

he would come back and explain,

why it was to be her alone, 

the bride, that is not a bride, that waits.

Permanent Pains for Temporary Aches – Hannah McPherson

Never cause permanent pains for temporary aches,

if it hurts on the inside, do not scar the outside,

if it hurts on the outside, do not mar the inside,

keep your spirits and body clean in moments of turmoil,

for you never know when the tides may turn,

you never know how the world will change you,

but least of all, you are unaware of your canvas,

how you paint determines the picture you display,

Never cause permanent pains for temporary aches.

The Shopkeeper – Hannah McPherson

The shopkeeper polishes the gold plates, the antique wood carvings,

the shopkeeper sits in his chair with his rag, wiping away dust,

the shopkeeper listens for the bell, but all day long he hears none,

the shopkeeper sells not a thing, but deals in valuable exchange,

the shopkeeper lives in the attic above the storefront, 

the shopkeeper is a humble man, that desires little,

the shopkeeper looks at the picture near his chair,

he wonders how his daughter is, somewhere up north,

he doesn’t know.

The shopkeeper wonders how his wife is, beyond the grave,

the shopkeeper looks out the window, to the people passing by,

the shopkeeper dusts off another item, a pocket watch,

he checks the time, for the eighteenth time today,

The shopkeeper is simply waiting for the banker to come,

The shopkeeper is tired of being a shopkeeper,

the shopkeeper wishes to go sit in grass fields and play the lyre,

the shopkeeper dons his apron, and shuts down the storefront,

The shopkeeper knows that his time is soon to come, 

the shopkeeper remembers his father, the shopkeeper before him,

how this business was built in generations, and lost in one,

the shopkeeper is a dutiful man, true to his word,

The shopkeeper lets the banker in, and arranges one last sale,

“Everything is yours to keep, I just want to be free.” 

With the shake of two hands, the shopkeeper is no more,

But the lyre player in the fields is born.

Jackals Howl – Hannah McPherson

Jackals howl like a train whistle,

somewhere off in the distance, 

I lay here in the tall brown grass,

I wonder how far away they are, 

But I don’t really care, 

I’m just glad to have their company, 

In this field, I am weightless,

But the dirt below me is thick,

The ground is solid, 

The wind is hot and dull, 

I am feverish, in the twilight,

What an adventure, I sigh to myself, 

To be lost, somewhere far from where I’m from,

Oh, kingdom come, 

Had I never left home, 

I would not be as whole, 

As I am with the jackals whistle

Hills In My Mind – Hannah McPherson

Hiding in the hills in my mind, 

Running free all the time, 

Arms spread open wide,

Scream building in my lungs,

Song comes out, melody,

The green stretches on for miles,

I am on golden wings,

Alit with something akin to joy,

But mixed with a beautiful rage, 

I am only free here, golden age,

Outside of my mind, 

I am in a cage, 

Disconnect, disassociate, 

Fantasies fade away, 

in silence I sit, unable to run,

frozen in place, 

Daydreaming for fun.

Whole With You – Hannah McPherson

caress me, 

left your breath linger on my skin,

feel the heaviness in my chest,

as you plan to go away again,

whisper on my cheek,

“I will never leave”

Then you do.

And just like that,

a hole where I was whole with you.

Lions and Men – Hannah McPherson

Men want me for my body,

As if my mind is just sitting in my skull,

Rotting, and numb, 

They see me as a piece of meat,

But what of me? My soul? 

What happens when my body grows old?

Who will know me to my core?

When I’m withered and a crone,

Will I leave them craving more?

Perhaps its my fault, 

For hanging out with hungry lions,

Instead of grazing with the gazelles, 

It’s only animal instincts after all, 

talking to a man is like talking to a wall, 

Pointless, and your face will grow blue,

Oh, how I disgust to be desired by you. 

You smack your lips and clamp your jaws,

You scratch and tear at me with your paws,

Perhaps, this poem, will slip through your claws.

Anything But Fate – Hannah McPherson

I’m up high in the clouds,

I’m floating back down, 

Til’ Suddenly,

I’m plummeting to the ground, 

No parachute, No landing gear, 

A cycle that repeats, 

Dreaming through fear, 

And all the while, 

feeling frozen in place, 

Unable to yield, 

To anything but fate.

A Day Is Just A Day – Hannah McPherson 

Sometimes a day is just a day, 

It doesn’t go any particular way,

It’s not bad or good,

These days are misunderstood,

These days offer a chance,

If you look closer, take a glance, 

There’s a spark and shimmer

In the universe letting you simmer

For a while, 

You might be surprised

These days are hard to find

Where life offers you a look inside

The Creator and Creation – Hannah McPherson 

God, How my heart beats for you,

It soars to unexpected views, 

And all the way through

To the bottoms of my deepest caverns, 

And it is there, 

When it seems like nothing matters. 

It gives me new life, 

Just to know there may be

Something out there

Greater than me.

All knowing, 

All consuming, 

The all mighty. 

All together frightening. 

So we wrestle with 

Comprehending you, 

While you wrestle, 

With what we do. 

At a balance, 

Or a passive stance, 

The creator and creation, 

Forever dance. 

Will To Try – Hannah McPherson 

I watch you there, 

With all of the power to create worlds,

But with no will to try

You say you don’t have the words

But the word is just one: goodbye

Say goodbye to your fears, 

Goodbye to your hopes and dreams,

Because the lack of will to try, 

Begins the lack of everything 

And yet still, I beg and I plead

Give in to desire, and let life take the lead

Under The Yonder Tree – Hannah McPherson

Somewhere under the yonder tree,

There is a girl that looks like me,

Her skin is bare, of the marks I have,

And in her mind, she shan’t go back,

We differ, however, her and I, 

For she does live, and I have died,

We are not twins, relatives, nor the same,

We share only looks and a name, 

But there under the yonder tree she sits,

The version of me that I’ve grown to miss

I Have It All – Hannah McPherson 

I have it all, as they say

Not a thing standing in my way,

But alas, not all of my boxes are checked,

My life did not turn out how I would expect

It did not turn out how society’s norm

It did not turn out I was expected to conform

And some would say, I ended up with the best, 

But they do not see how I long for the rest, 

They say I have it all, but that is not fact

There are still so many things that I lack

And it’s not a numbers game, we’re not counting things to complete, 

But to the way I compare, I will never compete

The Gods Do Smile – Hannah McPherson 

I raise my arm and signal the charge

Onward into the bloody yard

We fight, we fight, we fight some more 

But every body ends up on the floor

Because we all are dying to get to the door

Where hell meets heaven and angels adore

The valiant battle of the soul within

And the gods do smile, in a line so thin

The Little Green Sprout – Hannah McPherson 

In the ash, among the fallen trees,

They are burned to their core, they are black and jagged and thrown about,

But in the midst of the gray and black, 

A little green sprout.

Silence Sings – Hannah McPherson 

A beautiful girl, in a broken world

She doesn’t even see herself for the cracks in the mirror

But from the outside, it couldn’t be clearer

She has a heart that fights so hard

And yet she hides her battle cry in her heart

She lies awake wishing she could sleep

And finds herself within her dreams

But when the morning dawn rolls in

She feels as if to be alive is to sin

The army of one who loves her so dear

Begs and pleads for her to hear

How strong and true her silence sings 

How she really can accomplish anything 

And to my god I pray she finds,

The power to change is within her mind 

And though she believes not a word of this

To love her through her struggle is my eternal bliss 

And someday I hope this poem she reads

And finally has the strength she needs 

To lift the veil of her own sorrow

And opens herself to a new tomorrow

Where You Buried Me – Hannah McPherson 

I am flowing with a limit like the blood within my veins, 

There are only so many syllables in a name, 

But with every repetition of this life or with this pouring out, 

I am filled with hope and relieved of doubt, 

this woven fabric of fate is sewn deep, 

and to my core I shake, 

because withholding this infinite feeling in a brief time, 

would stop me where I live and where I died, 

carried with me as a burden on my back, 

there is not a word that my mouth would lack. 

Finding peace among the truth, 

working my way back to you, 

in every lifetime, 

like you were the only source ever, 

my constant lifeline, 

these moments so dear, 

when I live between where you buried me, 

and where I stand here.

The Soul Never Withers – Hannah McPherson

Outer beauty does not equate to happiness, 

in any equation. 

Bodies will fade, 

but the soul never withers.

The Most Beautiful Man – Hannah McPherson 

The most beautiful man I had ever seen, 

but I was scared to talk to him, 

because we were strangers. 

And what are the odds?

He is on my flight.

Greatest Hits – Hannah McPherson 

If I could put us on a record player, 

I’d replay all our greatest hits, 

and revel in the way I feel, 

reliving all my greatest gifts

Anything Can Happen – Hannah McPherson

Perhaps tomorrow the sky will be blue, 

or just perhaps, maybe, in fact, 

it would be a different hue.

A Breathtaking Life – Hannah McPherson

Within the breathless wind, 

lungs caught in a hold, 

Something that truly pauses time, 

and causes reality to fold in on itself, 

Over and over, 

until it ceases into a line, 

Something that takes a moment, 

That lasts for infinity, 

And is also gone the second it came, 

The thing that takes you away, 

Where you will never be the same, 

The heart on all chambers fire, 

the synapses of the mind all electrify, 

Oh, a breathtaking life.

Halls So Bare – Hannah McPherson 

Just as though you were never there, 

I stare at the walls of our halls so bare, 

And then I sit, and just remain aware, 

At one time it was full of life, so rare, 

Now, the silence hangs around, 

Like a cloak, so heavy, no sound, 

I turn my head from side to side, 

Looking for evidence you reside, 

But wisps and ghosts of memory,

Are all that I will ever find.

Every Melody – Hannah McPherson

I hear the music in my bones, 

It roams my vision in colored tones, 

I feel the vibrations in my soul, 

The stories that the music told, 

How it relates to my own life, 

The chords struck on my own strife, 

The notes that hit me in my chest, 

The soft song on my breath, 

It plays to the universe’s beat, 

The holes of my heart, 

full and complete, 

In what the music feels like to me, 

Every melody, 

I think and reflect, 

On the journey 

Of what was 

and What is Yet.

A Cup In The Cosmos – Hannah McPherson

Vivid visions, 

These words do pour, 

A cup in the cosmos,

dripping all I adore, 

pink and blue nebula, 

Clear fantasy, 

a picture of you picturing me, 

a river onto the Earth,

that bubbles on the hearth, 

a stream that flows, 

from heaven’s whispers, 

to hell’s woes, 

and here I wade, 

in the throes of a tide that is eons wide, 

a lifetime, 

following so many more, 

I have been here before, 

I will be here again, 

I will see you soon, 

my phantom friend.

Giants and Ants – Hannah McPherson 

Giants tower in the mountains, 

Ants peer under the leaves, 

The giants stand taller than the redwood trees, 

The ants slip into tiniest cracks, 

but ants and giants coexist, 

for neither is in a state of lack, 

and to be as they are is bliss, 

ants do not envy giants, 

and giants do not envy ants, 

but were they to share a glance, 

perhaps walk a mile in each other’s shoes, 

or even find common ground, 

that to be too big, 

or to be too small, 

is simply perspective after all, 

one sees from high, 

one sees from low, 

but both see, 

and both come to know, 

that you are only as big as what is around, 

that comparison is where size is found, 

so in the skies is the vision of giants, 

and in the grass is the vision of ants, 

but neither would consider anything different, 

until they shared a glance.

Invisible Footprints – Hannah McPherson 

The streets and woods that raised me,

carry impressions of my presence, 

though it may not be visible, 

to the naked eye, 

it is written in the sands of time, 

it plays in the memories of mine, 

every place I ever touched is forever altered 

by my having been there, 

the air and the trees are aware, 

the invisible footprints I left, 

still part of the path I walked, 

and will linger, 

long after I’m gone.

Our Heart’s Creation – Hannah McPherson 

like when in wonderland or in oz, 

sense is hardly the most vital law, 

as I wander through your fever dreams, 

I am ever in awe, 

a collective vision we share, 

of what it means to be aware, 

of what our world could be, 

If we defined reality, 

what truths we’ve yet to explore, 

and curiosities painting lore, 

a universe built in a conversation, 

an idea like lightning struck, 

every word a new revelation,

and with all we’ve yet to know, 

of this place we reside, 

it seems the greatest wonders 

happen on the inside, 

in places out of reach, 

just beyond imagination, 

second star to the right

of our heart’s creation.

Iron Does Not Cleave to Red Clay – Hannah McPherson 

Erosion is Earth’s Poetry,

And passage, 

And memory, 

And season, 

Land masses shift

To reveal new eras, 

Do we shift the earth?

Or does the earth shift us?

Do we make the green grass grow, 

And wind to move dust?

Do we seek out the sun, 

Or does the sun seek out us?

Is a desert a lack of vegetation, 

Or an abundance of air? 

Is an oasis and illusion 

Of a thirsty mind, 

Or perhaps, 

It is a safe haven

In a moment in time,

Water runs

Clear and blue

And bright through the canyon,

Sky is open

And bright and blue 

In the heavens. 

Contrast or complementary? 

Conflicting natures compromise,

It is a beauty 

To see and to know

To travel through

Finding yourself

On the other side

Of the journey before you.

Where there is a will, 

There is a way, 

Especially when

Iron does not cleave 

To the red clay. 

Your Voice Carries – Hannah McPherson

Your voice carries, 

through the canyons 

of my soul, 

the echoes touch 

every peak of me, 

and reverberate 

through my cliffs, 

a resounding experience 

when you speak, 

it breathes life into me, 

like a gentle touch, 

from the creator Himself.

The Dancers – Hannah McPherson 

I speak of 

love 

the universe 

the unknown 

the journey 

and all that is wrapped up in it, 

and I offer no answers, 

because the truth, 

is that it is up to the dancers 

That sing to the tune 

of these songs full of question

full of awe 

full of wonder 

full of hope 

moving to the beat 

of all we know 

we can never know

The Calm Of Still Waters – Hannah McPherson 

the calm of still waters, 

is the calm instilled in me, 

the reflection of the surface, 

is not all there will ever be, 

The ripples in time, 

the breaks in the scene, 

are the movement of everything 

that has ever been,

a motion that 

will never slow 

will never cease,

the fabric weaved, 

by our reality.

Words On A Page – Hannah McPherson 

I can write anything on this page,

But that is assuming,

I have something to say,

That I can dig deep

And make metaphors

And similes 

And rhymes

And Somehow 

Convey a message

Tell a story

Or share a thought 

But what I wanted to say

I have now forgot 

So though I wanted 

To put words on a page

Now I suppose I will not

So in the end
We settled for

Pointless Irony 

As life often supplies

Life’s Flow – Hannah McPherson

In life,

we have many rewards,

Things we look forward for,

We hope for stars 

On stickers, 

And shooting stars,

In the night sky,

And when we don’t succeed, 

We cry. 

But we should not focus on

Only the highs

In fact,

We should embrace the lows,

Because that

Is life’s flow

To be up 

And then down

Because when it’s over,

It comes full circle,

And back around. 

A Day Off – Hannah McPherson 

I’m just not feeling 

“It” today

But due to obligation,

I cannot lay and waste away,

I must sit upright,

And behave, 

I must adhere

To society’s expectations,

To be productive

And to never miss a day
Unless I’m actually

Dying and wasting away
It is not an emergency 

To want to skip work
And Write Poetry
But that only means
That we should reexamine

What it means to be
Productive
What is good 

For the soul

Is good for the world
And a day off,
Would be good for this girl. 

Winter Season – Hannah McPherson 

Winter’s season brings change,

A hard coldness of fresh brisk air,

To take in with new lungs

New feelings

We reflect

On what the year past has offered,
And what the new year hopes for,

Some long for spring, 

Or mourn fall,
Crave summer.
But it is within winter’s cold embrace

Where we are forced to change 

Office Supplies – Hannah McPherson 

I used to be obsessed

with office supplies,

Until I lived the office life, 

Now I see them 

As a means to an end;

Used to,
They were a way to connect,

With my mother

As she worked,

And I would sit beside her,

And play pretend,

It symbolized 

Hope and potential 

Blank pages 

Or envelopes 

Ready to be stamped

But now I realize 

Where I am 

In a grown up land

Where envelopes 

And stamps

Make the world go round

Office Supplies, 

So profound.

Ode to the Calendar – Hannah McPherson 

On my desk, you sit

Months go by

And I do not change you
Then Suddenly, 

I observe that time has passed,

Desk calendar, 

You are paper
Today we have 

Phones and Computers

But you, a classic

Remind me of 

What used to be

All with pretty scenery

You read December now

Soon, I will take you down

And begin a new year
A new reminder 

To flip the page 

Communication is Key – Hannah McPherson 

Communication is key,

But the locks are within me,

And I’ve swallowed the ability

To open the door, it seems,

That my fears have

Taken the floor,

To go within,

And freeze, 

Painfully aware

That communication is key. 

The Life of a Pen – Hannah McPherson 

The life of a pen,

Is contained to its ink

Contained to

How many thoughts we can think

About before it runs out

We don’t often think about

Not now or then 

The life of the pen 

To Daydream – Hannah McPherson 

To daydream,

While tasks are at hand,

Is frowned upon,

But to daydream,

Without a task at hand,
Is also looked down on,

So when is it admired

To have your head

In the clouds

Without someone 

On the ground

Begging you 

To come back down. 

My Gut – Hannah McPherson 

My gut is in knots

That even the most sophisticated

Boy scout

Could not unwind 

And they say 

It’s temporary

Give it time

But the feelings below

Haunt my mind

For the gut

Is the instinct 

To survive 

And tells you

When things are not right

And until its fixed

You sit in it

Oh, ignorance 

Is bliss 

Cold Coffee – Hannah McPherson

My coffee is cold,

But gets hot 

As Ice melts

Moments pass

And sips are drank

Oh the measure 

Of my life

In a cup of joe

I waste away

As the coffee goes

But for now

Rejoyce

For my coffee

Is cold. 

The Company Dime – Hannah McPherson 

Always paid to be on time,

But still the office offers 

The struggle

Of trying not to 

Take up space

Of navigating

Through social cues

And email etiquette 

The day is almost through

And I’ve done nothing yet

The company Dime

Waiting for a better time. 

How Cliche – Hannah McPherson 

How cliche, 

You long to be free, 

You wish to bend

Reality 

To your will 

Rather than get lost

In the tides

You pray 

To have the outside

Match the inside

And yet, 

You still look

In the mirror 

And judge

What reflects 

We will nitpick the crumbs

Until there is nothing left 

My Life in a Glimpse – Hannah McPherson 

My poetry captures

The cosmic, the mundane, 

Things that make me whole,

Things that make me insane, 

But overall my poetry,

Is my life

Captured in a few short lines

They don’t always rhyme

But when they do,

I say them in my head,

With a pause and a breath

A soft serenade like time

And so I’m sharing them

With all f you 

Who read and perceive 

These pieces of my soul

You’ll know me deeply

When I’m cold

And in the ground

And wherever comes

After now

My life in a glimpse, 

Who I am or was,

In a glimmer 

So these words are

My pleasure to deliver. 

When the Music Stops – Hannah McPherson 

When the music stops,

The vibrations in the air

Fall flat 

And the noise

Of just our lives

Picks up the space

And things seem

Less grand

More mundane

And plain

And less full of life

Oh, how the music 

Keeps us moving in time,

And when the track 

Picks back up

It’s as if we are 

Restrung on 

The puppet strings 

The Great Exchange – Hannah McPherson 

The great exchange

Of first looks

Betwixt two souls

That have only just met

A potential love

Or enemy

Or friend

Or perhaps 

Just someone 

To share a single glance

And may never meet again

Unless intervened 

By happenstance

But it’s all there

In the first meeting

Of the eyes

And to the universe

We credit the surprise

And the possible change

Brought upon

By the great exchange. 

Number People – Hannah McPherson 

To all the number people, 

I ask one simple question,

How do you quantify 

The unquantifiable?

How do you measure

The distance to heaven?

How do you count 

What has no limit?

What is the formula

For understanding

The ineffable? 

Or do you simply

Place in the unknown variable,

And take your best guess,

Like the rest of us? 

Poetry – Hannah McPherson 

Say something profound here

Something deep

Something that 

Shows me a little bit

Of the truth

Say it in a fancy tune

And there you have it,

Poetry. 

The Circus Act – Hannah McPherson

I am spinning plates, 

And juggling bowling pins,

And balancing on top

Of a red and white ball

The circus act

That never falls

I am an artist by night,

An office worker by say,

And to my delight

Both go my way

They play to my skills

They play to my plan 

To learn to do art

For any woman or man

Because in one I live

By society’s norms

And in the other, 

I express in every form 

And so I do get to connect

With life at every intersect, 

But the circus act

Is the best that I can do,

Within the world
I was born into, 

One day, 

My mighty passion
Will find me during the day

And the plates and pins

Can go away 

Artist with a 9 to 5 – Hannah McPherson 

My poems are most practical,

When I’m in a constricting space, 

Like the office, 

Because my only inspiration

Is these paper clips

But in my room?

With my tunes,

I am full of poetic quips,

Ah, the struggle of an artist, 

With a 9 to 5 

Doodles on my notebook

Being forced to hide

The colorful 

passionate 

Expressions

Inside 

Just you wait,

I’ll be free someday 

Work Thoughts – Hannah McPherson 

I detest the mundane, 

I wish for only magic,

It drives me insane 

To put down my romanticism

And take off 

My rose colored glasses,

To try and view things 

As very 3D 

And to embrace normalcy

To me, these things

Are more made up 

And fictitious 

Than a purple dragon 

Breathing rainbow flames

And flying around 

In sparkly clouds

There is a time

And a place

For everything, however

And the time to wish

I was elsewhere, 

Is now. 

First Wake – Hannah McPherson 

First Wake,

Eyes open,

Dreamy haze, 

Where am I?

Who am I? 

All floods in. 

Getting acquainted 

With your surroundings

Settle In

And then 

The day begins 

And again and again

Until one day,

You go to sleep 

And wake to a whole new 

World?

A whole new 

You?

Something else entirely. 

How long? – Hannah McPherson 

When? 

I ask. 

No Reply. 

How Long? 

I beg to know. 

The universe 

Will not 

Spill its 

Well kept 

Secrets 

Time is precious. 

Don’t squander it.

And on the edge, 

I hang by one hand. 

Not knowing

To knowing 

What a transition.

And then comes the wind. 

The Spring – Hannah McPherson 

The flowers coming out of hiding,

Popping up and opening their blooms, 

Greeting the sun 

And singing to the moon, 

Their talks so bright,

They light up the open room,

And it all reminds me,

F the breath of first dawn, 

Of the bubbling excitement

The stream, runs past 

Steadily along its flow,

The Spring,

brings nature’s growth. 

Symphony – Hannah McPherson 

The strings vibrato, 

The tempo rushed

The sounds of the orchestra

Raising through the concert hall

Something moves my bones and soul

The fabric of my being

Shakes and sways

Like an old wooden ship

On rough seas

Moved by the nature

Of organized sound

Each splash of the cymbal 

Takes my breath 

And it is renewed 

In the solo 

Ah, symphony 

It speaks to the days of old 

That I never have known

Bless the players. 

How Time Flies – Hannah McPherson 

How time flies 

When you’re busy

The hustle and bustle

Really impress Father Time 

He commends the productivity 

And rewards you,

By allowing you to flow through,

Unimposed by the linear walls

Of a single life

But rather,

a phantom of cosmic passage

Into a space more fluid 

And malleable

In a blink

You’ve been transported 

To the future 

With tasks completed successfully 

Remember Me – Hannah McPherson 

I want them

To remember me

As the poet

Of the century 

I want them

To hear my words

Through ages

And keep me 

On shelves

In yellowing pages

I want them 

To revere 

The time I spent

While I was here

And say 

“What a mind” 

“What a soul” 

She writes poems

Like the greats of old

I want them to feel

That it was surreal.