March 18, 2013 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION








Melissa Fry Beasley


They look

But do not see

While their fingers draw signs

Telling of things to come

The voice of thunder

Strong as a mountain

Leaving us to beg relief

From nature’s fragility


Moon changes color

Eyes dim to the truth being shown them

This eerie expectancy heavy

A dark cloud in fair skies

Emptied of everything but grace

Winter sees the world unripe

As seed is scattered on sealed earth

Slow strangulation

Tokens tossed away

Penniless life

Where Christ lives with sinners


We only learn so much from graves

Like one must be silent as death

When God begins to take away


Together we may both be slaughtered

With our desperate bones

Ground to powder

By crows not pausing to pick

What they peck at






Melissa Fry Beasley



Wind takes me somewhere

I never want to forget


Like a breeze off the ocean

Men walking on water

Girls waiting like oysters

To be opened


Their pearls buried in the deeps like

Ideas running through old channels

Fog rising from rivers

Lifting prayers like fish

Alluvial shores

Loose like love or easy women

Seagull picks at empty sand

Anointed by the sun

Baptized in place

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  1. June Sciortino March 23, at 09:58

    I lost my daughter 30th June 2008. She was 32 and the most kindest, intelligent and caring person I have ever had in my life. I cope by writing lots of poetry about her. It was a priveledge to have been her mother and I have so many marvellous memories tp keep me going. I will never stop grieving but I honestly feel she is always with me. Natascia Rita thank you for being my daughter, thank you for all the love you gave me, A big comfort hug to you Elizabeth.


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