The Scarlett Knight's Poetry

"How Lovely"

To speak my mind,

at all

with most I find,

lost somewhere in its jest

as aways.

Separating friends from all the rest.

Making some like rabbits

spring,

ungrudgingly onward!

Oh! How sharp the serpents sting!

For truth cannot always be just,

in truth,

some people's fragile bubbles burst.

The ability to laugh at one's own

foibles,

in retrospect,

eliminates few of life's troubles.

If indeed a fool I am,

lead me to the slaughter,

much as that proverbial lamb.

For if to all your feelings show,

how lovely

the world and all would grow!

9/3/80

"Counting"

A night to remember

for sure

my friend!

Gives rise to

hopes

it will end.

Again I greet

the rising

early morning light.

Amid piles of guilt

heaped on me

by both last night.

Between a rock and

a hard place

as the old saying goes

Makes you wish

for the days of old.

When you could

just sit in a corner

counting your toes!

9/22/84

"Monday Face"

The fleeting thought,

the urge to trace.

A Sunday smile on a

Monday face.

Never missed 'til

absense...stressed!

The lovely face on which

it rested.

8-11-84

"Time Passes"

When pushed to heights

of great despair.

I find myself

in this old chair.

Alone! And for the

first time lonely.

An lots of buts

and what if only!!

5/3/79


ONWARD

BACK