Saturday, December 13, 2014

A Voice in the Cemetery

The sky was ink black as a storm was looming,
My walk in the cemetery was dark and the torrid heat was consuming.

As I knelt placing flowers on my mother’s grave,
I heard someone speaking in the distance talking softly in a young voice,
I could not stay long with my Mother on this day,
because I had no choice.

I had to know where and why was
that sweet tearful sound,
That left me spell-bound.

I stood silently between two Oak trees,
And what I saw and heard sent me to my knees.

A little boy stood with flowers in
one hand held so tight,
And his kitten in the circle of his
arm was holding on with all his might.

It was the sight as well as the words
that split my heart into a zillion pieces,
“Mommy, I miss you so much---and
so does my kitten Reeses.

We both cry at night when I say our prayers,
And I saw Daddy crying on the stairs.

We don’t know when you will come home,
We just know we are lonesome and alone.

And Daddy named a star after you
Mommy, it is named Maria,
He held Reeses and me up high
to see her.

It is a she star Mommy, just like you,
I hope it has your eyes of blue.

Here are some flowers now I leave
for you to take,
When you are up and awake.

Papa and Mimi are living with us now,
Until you come home---somehow.

Pastor Mathews said you are in Heaven,
Can you send me an email, Mommy, because
today I am seven?”

I watched him kiss the tombstone and then he
walked away,
To take the hand of a man whose hair was gray.

I could not move as lightning split the dark sky,
The rain fell hard and fast and all I could think of
was why?

Of all the mean and nasty people in this world who
no one would miss if they died,
Why take this little boy’s mommy---I will never
understand---I cried.

Then through the storm I heard a whisper---
that sent waves of chills up my spine,
“Because I needed a special Angel to watch over
all children and one who is divine.”

I wasn’t sure if what I heard----was what I heard---
but I left the cemetery with a smile,
As I watched the car with the little boy inside kissed
his Papa as they drove out of site,
I promised to visit on another day and
left as the darkness bloomed into night.

I would never forget the voice I heard in the
cemetery today,
Never ever---no way.

An Angelic Heart; Click Link Below to Read Poem---Thanks.

© BEPH  2012  All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Monday, December 8, 2014

A Rugged Cowboy

His tall proud and sinew body slept soundly 
on his bedroll under the star studded night,
This cowboy was half Indian and half white.

They called him Breed,
He would not answer to any other name—where 
was no need.

His hair was black as a raven’s wing, his blue eyes glistened bright,
Full lips enhanced the dark stern face, a handsomer half-breed, no one could find---this cowboy epitomized a true western sight.

His mother had walked the “Trail of Tears”
and his father was a Marshal---admired by all his peers.

The cowboy never knew his dad,
This often made the dark and moody 
cowboy very sad.

Shunned by the Whites---ignored by the Indians---
sometimes he felt hexed.
It was on an icy winter’s night when his lucky star 
did shine---when he saw his beautiful blond Clementine
---but she belonged---to another,
And, he was a white man---not a brother.

The Breed and Clementine were soul-mates in another life,
Now, what he wanted even more than breathing----
he wanted Clementine for his wife.

The entire town’s people gathered on the walk way in 
front of the only shop,
They wanted the Breed to win, so all the fighting would

The two men faced each other in the early morning light---
shots rang out---and after the smoke cleared---only 
the cowboy stood,
Never again was he shunned by the Whites or Indians he was
now respected and this was good.

He and his Clementine left town the next day,
Where they went--------- no one would say.

But if one will listen closely---on the cloudless nights, 
one can hear lovely flute music as it softly rides the 
gentle breeze down the mountain side,
As Breed plays his mother’s music for his beautiful bride.

© BEPH 1992 All Rights Reserved

(I wrote this poem in 1992, just before my trip to Texas with my friend.)

A Moment on the Dark Side---A poem about how a strong, fast and good son. Click Below:

© BEPH 2015 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of these poems and if they are seen anywhere else on the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Monday, November 3, 2014

Snowflakes and Tears

She walked among the icy path to the cabin in the woods,
Where they last laughed and love was understood.

She did not see the dark cloud that was to cover her sun,
Not until the day was done.

His jade eyes searched her eyes of blue,
Deeply they looked and then she knew.

Their love relationship just hit a new low
Because his eyes said what she had to know.

Yes, there was another love because his country called,
Yet, he stood there in the snow, his voice stalled.

Years passed---but not her love for him,
She heard in the distance a Christmas song---her heart was grim.

She now walked this path with snowflakes and tears,
Caressing the hand that held hers now through the years.

Not knowing at the time he left a precious gift behind,
A son ---who inherited his father’s brilliant mind.

She walked towards their cabin that stood alone and cold,
Along the path where the blue snowflakes falls -----with her tears,
Through the lonesome---without him---years.

She built a fire to warm her body, but not her cold heart,
not until he came for her one day when a dark cloud appeared,
She would wait for his spirit so never again to be apart.

All she could do until then is walk with her snowflakes and tears,
And, keep it from their son until the time nears.

© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved 

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on

the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Autumn: My Love Memories

 I Remember His Handsome Face and Beautiful Blue Eyes

When the coolness touches my skin, I recall the days
which lives within my heart waiting to appear each
year to warm and caress what should've been.

And, I cried for each year that came and went, although
I waited for him, his ascendance I could not resent.

My skin recalled each infinitesimal touch of his fingertips
all the way to my lips, lips that he mastered and are no longer
just mine, they wait and tremble for his touch so divine.

Life is not a fair game to play because it will win and take away,
because of its greedy need for conquest just to show us who is best.

He answered his country’s call and I watched him march away in
the uniform of the day, and his words were soft whispers of goodbye
broke my heart,
because we would forever be apart.

I felt when he left he would never return, and I stood with the Autumn
coolness like icy fingers of wind blowing repeatedly against my skin.

Tears inundated my face and wetness slightly frozen there and for me
it never ended,
and the only solace I could find lay within my belly to appear in due time.

He never knew what he had left behind, and I could not tell him as it
would be too much on his heart to grieve because he still had to leave.

Many Autumns caressed my old wrinkled face,                   
but I will never leave our special Autumn place,
where first love,was born beneath the Cedar Trees
and our grandchildren play in the hues of Autumn leaves.

Walk slowly my Darling, and soon I will be by your side
 to hold your hand with great pride.

A Walk Down an Autumn Trail: Click Below to Read Poem---Thanks.

© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.


Saturday, September 6, 2014

Grandmother’s Bell Rings in My Heart

  Grandmother's Bell                                         

Its little wooden handle was study but worn,
Its little tingling sound was forlorn.

Grandmother said this bell went through the Great War,
When was that I asked---I was not born---it was before.

Her bell so shiny and old---set on her table by her bed,
You may ring it my child---My Grandmother said.

She told me her Great-Grandmother Krimminger rang it
When her son came home from the fray,
Oh what a glorious happy day.

That little bell was a beacon for me,
When in her room I walked up to it to see,
The tiny little bell that I rung so well,
then quietly set it alone to be.

I leaned close to the bell to see my big eyes in it,
I stuck out my tongue to see its image.
Suddenly outside I heard a scrimmage,
Grandmother My Angel
Grandmother was feeding the Squirrels nuts and bread,
I helped her feed the birds so now all was fed.

My vacation was almost over and I loved the time
with my grandmother,
My heart belonged to her---there was no other.

I kissed her cheek as she squeezed my hand,
Daddy picked me up---he was a strong man.

I was six when I last saw her that summer day,
The strong Southern breeze swung the Spanish
 Moss into disarray,
I watched out the back window as Daddy drove away.

Summers in South Carolina proved never the same,
Because grandmother went to Heaven; but I still hear
her call my name.

Tilly the Bag Lady: Click Link Below to Read the Poem---Thanks.

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems
© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.


Wednesday, September 3, 2014

My Winter Dreams

Icy thoughts inundated my mind overflowing
love recalled,
of not one time but of them all,
as a freezing winter breeze,
slowing pushed me to my knees.

His absence proved harder to bear, as I walk through
our homestead we shared, lived, our bed where love bloomed, the fireplace, and the Herb garden in the rear, he loved all seasons---I heard his deep soothing voice in the stillness so preciously near.

Come to me my Darling where the Blue Fir trees          grow,
buried deeply in the snow, where the starlight glows,
bring to me your full ready lips and red nose.

We met, laughed, talked and cried, and in my Winter Dream 
 I remembered he died.
Death does not kill our spirits, our souls live forever,
to return to earth to make it better.

He and I encountered many times, in different forms, in different lives, we feel when a kindred spirit is near; this gives us faith to move our mountains and I can hear his cheer.

My Dream Lover Appears in the Spring: To Read Poem Click the Link Below--Thanks

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems

© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.


Wednesday, July 30, 2014

I Heard His Whispers in the Wind

In the early pre-dawn I sit overlooking the salty
white caps push against the beach,
While little babies in their soft beds are still sleeping---dreaming of things out-of-reach.

I wondered about the children we never had,
Not to be crude so early---but my heart is sad.

Slowly I walked along the shore,
Cool sea water covered my footprint as I make more.

The sea is angry this morn,
It was the same when he was born.

My Darling Zachary with his dark wavy hair and eyes of blue,

He said to me: “I will always be true.”

The dark skies threatened, while rain clouds rolled
across the sky,
Still his ship left with him---after his last goodbye.

I stood upon the huge rocks and waved until the lightning flashed,

His ship sailed out of sight, and I prayed it had not crashed.

The  lonely days turned into years,                                   
My heart was broken---but I had no tears.

One star-studded night I walked the beach when all but the sea was silent,
The winds became strong----pushing through the big Palm Tree fronds---turning violent.

Then for the first time I heard his whispers in the wind,
My heart stopped---I listened and heard as the wind and
whispers blend.

“Come to me my Darling where the wind blows strongest
from the sea,
there under the Palm Trees you will see me.”

I followed the a seashell path to the huge boulders overlooking
many ships floating like leaves being tossed about,

Turing I saw a grey form in the shadows and I gave him a shout.

Zachary’s spirit was young---and his form----an odd shade of grey,
He said every spirit appeared this way.

Until he took my hand I was 85,
I felt very lucky to be alive.

He kissed me and I was nineteen once more,
Suddenly—I was young without white hair and wrinkles galore.

My eyes sparkled with a happy shine,
Because Zachary was once again---mine.

He took me to his ship moored near a cove,
Having my Zachary was my Treasure Trove.

We have sailed many seas,
My Darling Zachary, our babies and me.

Live is never over---there are other chapters to live,
Cherish the present---and the future will give.

Private Lover of Mine: Click Below to Read Poem--Thanks.

© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

My Darling Revisited

 I stood on the frozen ground,
I heard not a sound.

I stood forever it seems---just looking down,
To where my Darling rested---I felt him all around.

1710’s worst storm on the sea,
Stole my Darling---away from me.

His crew rescued his body from his salty grave,
They were so brave.

Now the “Blue Whale” sails without him,
It rides the rough sea---I watched it sail away
---until it grows dim.

I talk to him every day,
Praying he will return and take me away.

Our baby grows within me---it will be a son,
It’s sad no siblings for him---there are none.

On our isolated mountain overlooking the murderous ocean,
The briny waves bellows with white foam in their angry motion.

I wait in my dreams so he will reappear,
To lie with me in our love bed and hold me near.

His strong hand gently caresses our unborn child,
So softly he touches me---it makes me smile.
The night is ours to be alone,
We live in our dream world---our only life zone.

When the sun rises---I watch and wait,
For the sunset---daylight I hate.

Only the “Neptune God of the Sea” can give him life,
So he can live with his child and wife.

I sit on a rock under the Cedar Tree,
I wait for him to bring my Darling back to me.

© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems                      

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Valentine Viola Saves a Village

The year 799---North Village location---
on the Northern Sea,
It flourished in vegetables, fruits and a 
baby on every knee.

One foggy morning as mist rolled in thick 
on shore,
A fisherman found a maiden who floated 
onto the moor.

The villagers called her Valentine Viola
Because she had a heart-shaped birthmark 
on her cheek,
She was teased harshly and some even called 
her a freak.

But her secret of why she was really there---
she was an Angel with hidden wings,

She was placed there by Archangel Michael 
with her golden harp of many strings.

Her hair the color of honey and her eyes---
baby blue,
Viola's beauty outshone them all---inside 
her heart too.

Because Angels are always sent to protect 
and provide,
Not to worry, run or hide.

Few women villagers offered her kindness,
The other had ignorant blindness.
                                                                          Only she knew she was there to save them
from Vikings raids,

Even the strongest young village men could 
not defend against their long blades.

Months passed until Viola was alerted from 
The attacked would come at mid-night---no 
time for villager’s free-love.

When the sunset Viola’s took her harp to the 
Village Square,
So bold she stood with questioning eyes on her---
asking would she dare.

Her delicate fingers sailed across the strings,
Making sweet music so Heavenly it made ones 
heart sing.

Her music was hypnotic and all the villagers followed 
her in a trance,
Into a mountain cave deep within the earth, where they 
safely waited not taking a chance.

Outside the Vikings stole all they could carry back to 
their three ships,
But not one life was taken, and only praise towards 
Viola came from the villager’s lips.

The Viking never invaded that village again---they were 
spooked and spread the word it was haunted,

Because when they left with all they could steal---over-
night it disappeared and left them wanted.

When Viola led them out of the mountain cave---she 
told them to use it in the future if needed,

And they would find all their food, animals and possession 
safe at home and their gardens all seeded.

All the villagers’ cheers and thanked Viola as she watched 
each family depart,
A little sadly because she would be leaving she knew in her 

When a voice told her loud and clear---unfold your wings 
Viola Dear,
Because you are needed in---Heaven so please---come here.

One little girl who glanced back saw an Angel soaring to a
bright light,
She did not run or cry---because it was such a beautiful sight.

© BEPH 2014 All Rights Reserved

PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this poem and if it is seen anywhere else on
the Internet or in print it was taken without my consent.

Do You Really Love Him? : Click the Link below for More Poems