When You Are With Me - Poem by Sophia White

When You Are With Me

The sun comes after the rain
And the lost come home again
The seasons each tarry a while
Bringing shares of tears and smiles
All is well, all is well,
All is as it should always be
When you are with me.

The night is silver, the day gold,
The flowers young, the forest old,
Every new day is a puzzle to solve,
Old wounds heal and enemies absolve.
This is the world, this is the world,
As perfect as ‘twas meant to be
When you are with me.

Dreams come true, and wishes too,
Hopes are many and sorrows few.
My steps are light and debonair,
In step with the melody in the air.
Lovely is life, so lovely is life,
It’s better than I thought it would be,
When you are with me.

Sophia White

Tears Fill the Earth - A poem by Sophia White

Tears Fill the Earth

Too tired. Gazing up. Life gone.
The world is terribly white.
Very scared. Eyes wide. Heart numb.
My dreams are nowhere in sight.

How can I go on?
The road is much too lonely.
The flowers once were lovely
But now they’re gone
And tears fill the earth.

Nerves tingling. Ears ringing. Voice dead.
Tears stream down my face.
Blankly staring. Not even caring. Like death.
Such a very frightening place.

Dare I walk another day?
I hold a pool of tears in my hands
Watching them drain into the sand
Running down on their grieving way
And tears fill the earth.

Sophia White

Galoshesless - poem by Sophia White

Galoshesless

I'm gallavanting happily
With nary a smidgen of care
Through rainforest serendipity
And flowers fill the air.

The ground is rather muddy
From all the gobs of rain
E'en so, who could study
When the wild fills the brain?

I'm stomping without reason
Intoxicated with abandon
And, wow, the world is pleasin'
When you see it all as random.

I'm traipsing like a madman
Without galoshes to my name
And let the wild wetness in!
I've got the world to tame!

Sophia White

Earth Moments: The Flowers - Poem by Sohia White

Earth Moments: The Flowers

I pluck a daisy from the roadside
Enchanted by the simplicity
Then shamed of my audacity
Place it gently on the ground

The roses tumble down
A thousand to a vine
Almost white -
But not quite
I breathe in very slow.

The wildflowers are bundled
No order, no rhyme
A mad jumble of blossoms
I hold them to myself.

I pass the large blooms
In the garden, in rows,
Colors matched and neatly planted
I run away to where
The wildflowers are spilling.

High on the top of the tree
One lone flower rests
I watch from the ground
Wishing.

Sophia White

An Angel and a Violet - in the Garden - A poem by Sophia White

An Angel and a Violet - in the Garden

A small garden, lush with flowers
Pinks and whites and lavenders
Specked with candles in colored glass
Strolled two young and handsome lovers.

The moon was half a glass of wine,
The stars were shards of shattered glass.
The water tumbled through its bed
Where the gentleman walked beside his lass.

The grass wrapped around their ankles
As the candlelight dappled the stream
And the stones shone white in the moon
But none outshone the young girl’s beam.

And I sat on my windowsill,
Watching with a smile for the two,
As I picked up my rough wooden flute
And began to play a romantic tune.

Sophia White

Abroad Too Long - A poem by Sophia White

Abroad Too Long

Walking down the cobbled street,
Wondering distantly how old those stone were
And looking with disinterest at the cathedrals,
And the columns and arches that rise
Like a great garden of stone flowers
That I cannot pick.

Hearing the muted strains of a violin
From some unseen corner where some unseen
Frustrated musician is playing for forints,
And I feel the sorrow in each strike of the bow
Reverberate against my tired bones
In a sepulchral strain.

Thoughtlessly tossing pebbles into the river,
Then realizing I am tossing coins,
So I pour out my purse with melancholic abandon
And let the river have its fun,
Because I have had my fill of it,
And want only to go home.

Sophia White