The Fortress
A Poem by Mary Margaret Park
I gained entrance to a fortress
of stone as cold as death
its dungeons echoed the essence
|of shattered lives |
I hold the key no more
I beheld a castle
in splintered rays of gold
behind its doors
the laughter of children
still I’ve had no key
I beheld a castle
filled of warmth and depth
the green of spring and security
lay along its paths
but still I’ll have no key
I beheld a man
who dreamed
beyond the sky
whose heart poured
| rivers of gold |
even then I had no key
I beheld a castle
shot with silver dawn
the promise of total freedom
my hands held all the keys
| except this once |
at last I held the key
The Portrait
A Poem by Mary Margaret Park
Bare, she stretches out
Inviting his artistic expression
Her figure sketching an impression upon the cotton sheet
His charcoal grey eyes linger
With detailed wonder
Drinking in each curve and nuance of her outline
In folded silhouette he traces her portrait with his eager hands
Unsure of where to begin
So many places to draw from
Each one inviting his depiction
He illustrates her soft arcs with bold strokes
As he begins to render her image
And wonders at the adventure of its completion
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Yesterday's Poem for my sister
A Poem by Mary Margaret Park
yesterdays flash by in a matter of seconds
like stars falling from the sky
and the echoes of childhood
have receded like distant thunder
a storm of another kind reigns nigh
and its passage holds no comfort
slices of time flash before us
moments of triumph and sorrow
indelible reflections
of the people in our lives
each person’s influence an imprint
that forever binds
shaping the lenses, we see through
into unique prisms
we are surrounded by echos of past and present
on this occasion the echoes have grown faint and fast
their cadence whispering in foreign tongues
as the familiar becomes unfamiliar
who we are and what we will become
like the black leopard’s spots
inherent and