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Time Encapsulated - Sweet Some Things (Poetry of the Soul)

Time Encapsulated - Sweet Some Things (Poetry of the Soul)


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Published by Paula Freda
Poetry from the Soul - Precious Moments - Sweet Somethings - Inspirational, Nostalgia, Religious, Romance, Sci/Fi and Fantasy. A Book of Poetry that has something for everyone, from precious moments in our lives to inspirational verse. Humor, tears and peace of mind and spirit. Time Encapsulated.
Poetry from the Soul - Precious Moments - Sweet Somethings - Inspirational, Nostalgia, Religious, Romance, Sci/Fi and Fantasy. A Book of Poetry that has something for everyone, from precious moments in our lives to inspirational verse. Humor, tears and peace of mind and spirit. Time Encapsulated.

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Published by: Paula Freda on Jul 15, 2009
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Sweet Somethings . The trouble began when they added water and played hide-and-go-seek in it. tears and peace of mind and spirit. Sci/Fi and Fantasy. Outside in the backyard my two boys decided their Dad's bag of cement was the very best thing with which to fill their sandbox. A Book of Poetry that has something for everyone.Inspirational. Humor. Nostalgia. Nostalgic For the Twenty-Fifth Time Today My Mother called to me to buy napkins and tissues and paper cups for her coffee and tea.TIME ENCAPSULATED Sweet Somethings (Poetry of the Soul) Inspirational and Nostalgic Romantic Sci/Fi and Fantasy Poetry from the Soul . Time Encapsulated. Religious. from precious moments in our lives to inspirational verse.Precious Moments . while from behind her grandmother emphatically complained that her feet hurt unbearably and she must have shoes quadruple E. . Romance.

to cry. My husband is in his favorite chair and asleep with our pooch (man's best friend) curled up on his lap. Lips dry and trembling. Forgive us. mother. the dishes are washed. © Paula Freda 1981 This Mother of Ours Hair that glints white and silver in the sunlight. the kitchen floor is clean. But now it is night. to laugh. The living room is vacuumed. Nose pink-spotted and hooked with age. Now is my time to think back. Eyes shrunken and rheumy and delicate. supper has been served. Breath light and labored. frail and whimpering. Cheeks the color of pale wrinkled peach. My mother is busy crocheting.And if that was not enough! Our pooch dug his way under the garden fence And blessed each and every one of the vegetable plants. Voice wizened. to dream. all those tantrums. grandmother is deep in prayer. . In their room my boys slumber in their beds like cherubs on white percale heather.

She sleeps. Shoulders curved and back bent. © Paula Freda 1982 . As verdant summer fades to flaxen grass. and walking all those years beside us. Sweeping away the gilded. Now enters the windy whitened drummer. mother. To the shade of the old maple tree she dodders. And dreams of when we were babes. Feet tired. Bid adieu to rippling brooks turning to glass.Flesh thinned and skin that sags. Soles calloused. for holding our hands. bow their opal heads and die. Thank you. © Paula Freda 1982 Summer's End Burnt amber and cinnamon colored leaves fall now. And her head lolling forward. Fingers gnarled and aching joints. In her chair she sits. And pining away. And feathered songsters with saddened brow. Its warm embrace chastened by winter's sigh. Then once sun-kissed floras droop and moan. crimson summer. This mother of ours. The sun grows pallid upon its throne.

his small body glinting in the sunlight. melancholic cry. then flapped his wings and climbed into the air. Midway between sky and sand. he spread his wings. © Paula Freda I Once Picked a Rose . I felt peaceful watching him sail among the clouds. he gave a thin. becoming part of the great expanse.A Moment Ago A moment ago a sea gull waddled before me in the sand pecking at bits of discarded food. I was his companion. When he had filled his little belly. In that instant I no longer heard or saw the world about me. soaring beside him. embraced the wind and glided out toward the open sea.

make it tear. And placed it in a sherry glass of the finest crystal. But alas. watching his father's land Gouged by a stranger digging post holes. erecting fences. penetrating the earth . a lovely newborn flower. Red mud gathers in the dust between his fingers. It could not spread its petals wider. And I'd cut the flower's stem too short. And I thought. Squeezing a tiny toe. the glass was too slender. wishing for a smile. It remained a beautiful rose Until it withered and died. blossoming beauty." Later these hands would hold his infant's leg." He tells the young boy. Swearing at the blisters and calluses on his hands. If only I'd given it freedom. It would have left behind. Today they excavate. "Never wore them gloves. He swears at Fate for not giving him an auger.I once picked a rose. The gloves make the skin soft. What memory of open-berthed. © Paula Freda Digger Perspiration slides down the back of his neck. Calluses are good for you. My rose was trapped inside.

An ounce of soil at a time. Perhaps I was his only fame. The blood stays warmer than the sun. Fingers that soothe a teething baby's gums Cannot feel the digger drag against stone. Many years have passed Since that day when I was held High above the others' heads And his name was known to all. the palm. He can feel her. trembles slightly As he delves more deeply into the ground. An ode to ancient glories. holding her. The pink flesh. At night. tomorrow. in his children's mouths. no faces surround me. Freda © 1996 MAN OF THE YEAR Here I sit. I sit alone on this dusty canvas Of his life. Blood must course through these hands To keep food in his mouth. he holds his wife close to him. Rough skin catches the silk nightgown As he caresses his wife's back. Domenick J.in rhythmic thrusts. Hands will remember. Seven hours in the sun. Six days a week. On a forgotten wall Where honor was once held. Now all that lies upon me Is the dust of days gone by. .

the name. no life Other than his own is present. I hope they reach the ground before the endless winter comes. Domenick J. Many colors in one place colliding violently in the winds of prejudice. Somehow the name lost its meaning. they depict our world. It's not that he grew old. Freda © 1987 On Empty College Dorms . that his greatness Was so fleeting.No children in his past. He looked at me once after. The shadow of the man I knew. Domenick J. They try to reach the peaceful ground. But they're still troubled by the winds of hatred. gone from hearts Before it had a chance to live. Freda © 1990 As The Leaves Fall As the leaves fall. Hidden behind his eyes Were the memories that we shared. I watch him. It seems sad.

To learn the ways of leaving. the brave of heart. Wait. Be one with him and let the tides flow Into tranquil and warm thoughts. Enter you. The brochure made it seem so simple. Breathing only the air of life And not the fires of impatient men. you who are strong and brave. one barren mattress.The walls painted blue. The strong of soul and spirit. You Have Filled My Son's Life . With skies to match horizons grand. So eager to conquer the world that made you. Staring back to give him shivers Is a child of another time. To run away and find him running For the name he has not yet found. One bed made. He stands before the mirror Strong. A picture seems to weep As those pictured left so long ago: Abandoning he who knew none else. and in his elder prime. The lone one sits in mountains distant. Freda © 1993 **** Teacher. Dominick J. Without the kin who brought you faith. You plunge to be corrupted. How apt.

We are kindred souls.Teacher. you have filled my son's life. For we are writers who script our views across the clouds. for all below to see. Teacher. We touch the earth. to remember. like flocks of birds winging across the skies. then soar again. Friend. You have given his hours meaning And made me grateful. Shown him the difference between a letter and a number. You have taken the emptiness and replaced it with knowledge. we writers. we writers. you have filled my life as well. to share. indelibly. Taught him to depict the sun on paper. © Paula Freda We are kindred souls. © Paula Freda Inspirational I have seen a mountain . you have guided his hand And touched his mind. taste of its joys and sorrows.

For what we are. no matter the vessel. is the sum of those . © D. I have lived and I have died -And I have loved God. chipped or broken. suffering and pain.Clad in radiant sunshine. intact or fragmented. Freda WHAT IT’S ABOUT We are more than the sum of our parts. And it is the miracle of all that we are that we bestow upon those we cherish. I have watched the stars illumine the night And followed the moon along its whitening flight. I have touched a wrinkled hand And kissed a newborn child. more than the sum of our labors. P. it is the miracle of life held sacred. I have heard a nightingale And gazed at a mighty whale. soul and spirit. I have loved and I have hated. tenderness and need. love and forgiveness. We are heart and emotion.

Except that someone is here Who cares and tends to your needs. OLD TIMER Old woman. And need is love. love and forgiveness. so lovely. then let him look until he finds that love is a hunter. And love is need. And it is the miracle of all that we are that we bestow upon those we cherish. you hardly know who you are. We are heart and emotion. You cannot see the rainbow. and the sum of those who love us. and scolds you when you act like a babe. more than the sum of our labors. old timer. soul and spirit. tenderness and need. Your hair is silver and gray. suffering and pain. . or what is happening around you. so frail. And if a soul have none of this. © Paula Freda 1993 ALZHEIMER.we love. Your eyes are small. for we are more than the sum of our parts. Yet I remember when you would Sit counting the stars. Alzheimer. opaque.

Your fierce affection. I miss your tender blessings. Alzheimer. how could I lose myself. I love you -© Paula Freda Dear Mom Thank you for helping me. old timer. I miss the way you worried. old timer. Just as you did when I was a babe. Though never again as before. Come back to me. Old woman. I miss your arms that held so tight. Your gentle ministrations. That sometimes still remember. Like when I scrape my knee. Alzheimer. Your myriad questions. When you were not quite so old. When you were constantly finding me. And ached and cried when it seemed I might stray.Then holds you close and kisses you and hugs you. You cared so much for me. I miss the stories you told me a hundred times. But old woman. .

I have problems. is Thy Son's holy quest. My prayer. Thank you for loving me. Lord. my God. Lord. 1986 Religious My Prayer The heavens. is my daily strife. Lord. is the stairway to life. my God. You're the best mom could be. Freda May 7. Mankind. are Thy handiwork. My prayer. Thy Church. My prayer. Lord. you see. Your love. a flagon of grace.Thank you for listening to me. Dearest Lord. is my everyday work. . My prayer. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY Love. Tommy © Thomas M. my God. is my simple rest. But most of all. the smile on my face. my God.

+ And now that you have heard my thoughts. To feel the calm. That you and I are one. Jesus. Sweet and precious. For a little while within my breast To make your home and hear me out. my God. My mind waiting silently. the gentle knowing.if the above is all true. the peace. I listen quietly. Speak. My Lord. © Paula Freda 1982 Holy Communion Today you come to me. Then this small poem is prayer dedicated to You. my Jesus. Advise me. sweet Jesus. © Paula Freda 1982 God's Manuscript Enter man .

Bewilderment -Enter woman Perplexity -Enter the mind Enlightenment -Enter the hands Dexterity -Enter heart Flexibility -Enter love Humanity -© Paula Freda 1981 I Have Seen Jesus I have seen Jesus. His eyes -Understanding. Strength. His face. He is All these things. Warmth. Quiet persistence. And much more -© 1980 Paula Freda . He was. My Heart has seen Him. Gentleness. Love. Life.

-.-. T is for temperature I hope the weather stays warm and it doesn't snow.-. H is for holly The discount shop is having a sale on Christmas ornaments. M is for mistletoe Must remember to buy some to hang over my door. I is for incense We like to burn incense on Christmas Eve.-. © Paula Freda Romantic Poetry . S is for stamps It's far more cheaper to call.CHRISTMAS C is for carton I must remember to get a box of chocolates for my husband.-. R is for ribbons I'll need ribbons to tie the presents with.-. A is for Angel Need a new one.-. the old one fell off and broke.-.-.-.-S is for Savior Oh. OH MY! -. my! I almost forgot it's His Birthday.-.

Before the comforting rays of dawn their fragile petals cry with dew. the bills. My love and I awake. our minds and bodies join. And for those few precious moments. . a unity. Without the sun’s delightful touch they live in dismal gloom. And from each other we take. responsibilities. For those few precious moments that my love and I are one. and to each other we give. those are forgotten.A muted gold fills the bedroom. As dawn lifts night's mantle from its shoulders. For those few precious moments. A wanting. © Paula Freda ROSES IN THE DARK Roses in the dark will not unfold their precious cargo to bloom. Our hearts reign supreme. Our souls commune. a special existence we claim. we are free. a sameness. A special peace envelops us. a desiring overwhelms us. The chores.

Whatever is beautiful within me droops.Like the roses in the dark. twittering your very best. shrivels and withers away. Driscoll's Lady * Vast pastures shading to soft fawn Snowcapped mountains shrouded in pale blue mist Lush grassland. I ache to know the touch of all that is you. For a blue jay has swooped And caught you in its wings. you fear What the next moment brings. Lonely. For without the warmth of your tender love each and every day. © 1985. helpless. Fluttering. 2005 by Paula Freda The Sparrow and the Blue Jay * Sparrow thrust from your nest. buttes and rising hills Blue skies and candy mountains Driscoll’s Lady cow punching? Adventure in Panama * .

The prison walls have captured love. Love dances. Don't you know it's all part of loving. the cast complete. my darling. I was weary and uptight. So I threatened to take flight. Leave you? Hush. Henderson Sands * A gentle man has no need of iron gloves and magic hammer. rather gentle springs and warm streams. Never you mind. unlocks the door. But love cannot be caged. Then home you came. tired and cantankerous. © Paula Freda * (From the individual novellas and the anthology novel Roses in the Dark by Paula Freda) **** Hush. Let sunrays bathe sea nymphs and wandering angels. there's no need to fret. Thor of lightning and Neptune of the sea.The mold is set. . I was only jesting. My day had been calamitous. Our children mischievous. My Darling Hush. laughs. my darling. With rhinestones in her hair and sea green veils.

It brightens and warms my corner. which far surpasses and exceeds the fairness of the face. Who will change an old love for new? Mine fills my days. And the metal tarnished with age. and an innocence of the soul.© Paula Freda THE HEART CALLETH There is a beauty of the heart. . this gentleness. © Paula Freda Who will change oil lamps for new? Not I. Who cares if the glass is chipped with use. I am comfortable with it. And to this beauty. the ruggedness of the body and the intelligence of the mind. this innocence. the heart calleth --. as well as nights. as well as nights. a gentleness of the spirit. Mine lights my days.

I am comfortable with him. Meetings to attend. I thought nothing of it. A thousand things on my mind. Something felt wrong! What was it I'd forgotten? A dental appointment. I scanned the calendar. He brightens and warms my spirit. I didn't see you leave. perhaps.Who cares if his youth has flown. © Paula Freda Something Felt Wrong! You didn't kiss me goodbye this morning. But when the children were in school. And I was alone in the house. A batch of cookies in the oven. that wasn't it. Was late for the meetings. Washing and cleaning to do. our son came to tell me that you had. Letters to write and mail. Possibly a poem or story to compose. And his strength and beauty ebbed. . Yet something weighed so heavily on my mind That I burned the cookies. No. And never wrote the letters.

Stimulating. innocent.or the poem. Utterly emotional. © Paula Freda . It wasn't till you arrived home that evening. varied. Untamed. vulnerable as a newborn babe. gracious as a silver-haired dame. sweeping as a rampant windstorm. Romance -For today's woman and yesterday's dowager. perpetual Exquisitely passionate. enthralling. necessary as day and night. sweet. Intoxicating as an exotic perfume. Precious. superb. Significant. exciting. or the story. slightly erotic. perfectly suitable. Honorable. Romantic. fierce. titillating as the scent of roses. Cool. scorching as the sun over the Sahara. And gently pecked me on the lips Before sinking tiredly into your favorite chair. That I remembered -You didn't kiss me goodbye this morning! © Paula Freda Invigorating as a breath o sea air. Hot.

It is an insignia. but always it can be resurrected. to give. a dilemma. laughing. illogic. depleted. Possibly it can be forded. enigma. hating. denied. borrow. Love is to know. Love is eternity. tomorrow. existing. perpetuated. classified under fantasia. caresses. . because love is worth having. sometimes bland. crying. Love is joy. sanity. arid. It is dear. conspire. inescapable and necessary. touching. embraces. yet to trust. kisses. to take. Love is loving. Love is sometimes sweet. Without it. a buyer. maternity. Love is fire. Never will it fail to inspire. Love is logic. insipid. In truth. listening. to accept. surviving. whether by people swaying. dying. love cannot be described. desire. erotica.LOVE Love is flowers. to wonder.. deplored. craving. it is fraternity. insanity. to puzzle. life is tepid. paternity. probed. set you on fire. Without it. Love is breathing. braving. sorrow. to understand. destroyed. water and sand. the spirit cannot be freed to breathe. It may turn you into a liar. insomnia. or old folks graying. sometimes sour. derived neither can it be ignored. intensified. wanting.

I am a fool. He has been known to fumble and fall and score a zero. and tucked them in bed. Without it. my Romance Hero? He is not a giant among men. an unlit wick. forgive me. But last night. a witless mule. I was wrong. I'm sorry. Without it. . For love is a precious jewel. Dare I call my husband my Romance Hero? Yes.to seed. cruel. my Romance Hero." Then kissed our children. a brick. I am a stick. taking me into his arms he whispered. In summary. Yesterday he was impossible to live with. a never-ending duel. "Honey. hugged them. a fiery fuel. Near drove me into a fit. destiny and fate. midst caring and hating. early and late. love is the reaching within to tap one's soul in order to touch another's. © Paula Freda Dare I call my husband. Stubbornly insisted he was right when he knew he was wrong. There beneath the pellicle of human faults I see him clearly.

. All the colors of the rainbow. He once belonged to Thumbelina. And for services rendered. He hides among the roses.thepinkchameleon/index. He eats jasmine and lavender. Milky-white and honey-smooth. © Paula Freda 1985 http://www. He says his prayers at night. Hung an opal.html ALIEN He wore silk mantles on his shoulders. Legend has it. Are known to the pink chameleon. A magical opal. And all the gentler mysteries of the universe. In shades of soft pastels.© Paula Freda Sci/Fi and Fantasy THE PINK CHAMELEON The pink chameleon is a magical creature. She placed a diamond-studded collar about his neck. and beyond. From the collar.

topaz crowns upon his heads. Yet he was a softhearted creature. and emerald rings each finger. on his waist a diamond-studded belt. on each wrist he wore a sapphire bracelet. Backward. . time warp or limbo Couldst I but precisely know. Or bright. I wouldst go there and see it all. With stars of gold he bedecked each ear. bones of ivory and blood of mercury. With nerves of steel. Worlds where moons attend Like horses on a carousel. © Paula Freda 1982 Flights of Fancy Stars so distant. swirling. he had a silver heart. forward. galaxies unknown. he played a mighty part. revealing. and each toe he graced with ruby rings. On his legs he sported silk trousers. Dark mysterious black holes churning.

the universe is round. Four limbs or six. brine or vinegar. that I couldst venture there! That I couldst reach the universe's end.what wouldst I find? Its beginning. Hearts of gold. hands or tentacles. Look over -. O.Planets peopled by humans or aliens. © Paula Freda 1985 .and beyond -.

Shall your face hold any wrinkled line? Where do you lie. Where is your brilliant glow? When do you write your mournful tune. When will I taste your fickle fruit? When will we meet very near? And will you be kind or brute? Tell me oh glorious future. meek? Or shall we meet under dark black sand? © 1961 Dorothy Roman (aka Paula Freda) . When do you reap what you sow? When will you come. Where does your sweet head repose? Where do you sleep. Where do you rest your avid nose? Where is your sweet perfume. How shall our destinies twine? Shall you be low or high of stature. oh unchasmed fear.To The Future Where do you lie. oh mystery that I seek. oh mystery that I seek? When will I find your caressing hand? When will I bow before you. oh untamed creek.

more than the sum of our labors. no matter the vessel.WHAT IT’S ABOUT We are more than the sum of our parts. for we are more than the sum of our parts. and the sum of those who love us. tenderness and need. And love is need. is the sum of those we love. love and forgiveness. tenderness and need. suffering and pain. soul and spirit. And need is love. And it is the miracle of all that we are that we bestow upon those we cherish. chipped or broken. it is the miracle of life held sacred. © Paula Freda 1993 ********************** . We are heart and emotion. And if a soul have none of this. love and forgiveness. intact or fragmented. soul and spirit. We are heart and emotion. And it is the miracle of all that we are that we bestow upon those we cherish. then let him look until he finds that love is a hunter. more than the sum of our labors. suffering and pain. For what we are.

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