Nellie Belly

December 21, 2008 § Leave a comment

This is one of my very first rhymes that I wrote called “Nellie Belly”, in honor of my daschund, a gift from my dad’s old buddy, Joe, when I was just five years old. Funny when you’re a kid, you’re a lot less serious!

 

Nellie Belly,
Wiggle wee wee,
How does your belly grow?
With meaty meats
And doggie treats,
That’s how my belly grows!

Nelly Belly,
Wiggle wee wee,
How do your legs grow?
So short and stout,
I have no doubt;
Soon, my legs will grow.

Nellie Belly,
Wiggle wee wee,
Do you love your family so?
I wish I could say-
I love each in the day.
Oh, I love my family so.

I am the world’s finest wiener hound.
Although, my belly may hit the ground,
I look good with my master on the street.
I am ready to go home now; I’m beat.

 

© Sonya Rose

The Jacarda Blues

December 13, 2007 § Leave a comment

The Jacaranda Tree lives within me;
A fantasy, I become a planted city.
You say “How pretty, the colors of thee.”
I agree it’s a mystery, the only hue I see.
Oh, how I wish to be free; what I desire to be…
Below me, there is a man on bended knee;
I don’t know for sure if he holds the key-


To turn the wooden lock of my purple tree…
Like the dark days of the deep-sea,
Never to blink, eyes frozen in eternity…
And with a long, strong stare of you-and-me
My trumpets fall, hearts-free
Never to finish my biography
And speak of The Smile of Rosemarie


So, who wears my rounded crown, he or she?
Can there be three…carefree
Days to last…hey come look-see
I’m now low-key and a humble-bee
Flies fortunately with a sip of my honey…
And with the love for money; hey, I’m no dummy-
We all want something yummy in our tummy.


But, isn’t it funny…
How the blues blossom when it’s sunny?

 

© Sonya Rose

Piano Strings

December 2, 2007 § Leave a comment

When
the lines
fall
from
our minds,
we drift
inward
into
the lands
we explored
as children.

 

© Sonya Rose

Piano Boy

December 2, 2007 § Leave a comment

Will you dance with me?
In the morning, in the evening, in the nighttime-
Will you whisper softly?
Hold me; caress me for a lifetime…


Your eyes shine right through me
And I will try to get by
Somehow without you nearby
Try, try, and try


I’m pouring out my heart for free
See, I’m going to make it after all, I’m O.K.
I’m slowly moving
On, once again today


I’ll carry my dreams on wings
Never stop believing; but, please don’t fade away
I need to feel the touch of you all over
As I fly all day


Your eyes shine right through me
And I will try to get by
Are you truly nearby?
So tempted…let’s try, try, and try…


See, I can’t hide it
Pains from yesterday
Drift away a bit
When I talk to your feeling eyes
No troubles inside just a deep sky
My heart is so swept away
Show me the colors of you and I (you and I…you and I…)


Your eyes shine right through me
So much and I will try to get by
Please be nearby
Try, try, and try…Is it…can it be…time for you and I?
For you and I…
Something about you and I
I will try…

© Sonya Rose

Dream-her

December 2, 2007 § Leave a comment

Dream
little child,
the deep stream
in the wild.
Listen…angels
sing.
Love foretells
everything.
Give.
Play.
Live.
Pray.
Heart
and mind,
a chart
to find
land
miles away…
Shining in sand-
a castle and a castaway…

 

© Sonya Rose

Piano Strings

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

When
the lines
fall
from
our minds,
we drift
inward
into
the lands
we explored
as children.

 

© Sonya Rose

Dreams of a Child

November 14, 2007 § Leave a comment

 

A serpentine fire stole from the skies-
rubies and gold, an awaited sunrise.
I watched you slowly fall from the sun.
My spirit is rising—We meet one on one.
Your eyes are blackholes in my memoir,
spinning round and round an ancient star.
Somewhere in the night, past the
midnight hour,
you chased my soul, a panther of black power.
I was caught in your trap, down a one-way street.
Face to face, you and I finally meet.
…So, you watch me as the guardian gates open-
through your darkness into a dream phenomenon…

 

© Sonya Rose

Traffic Light

November 14, 2007 § Leave a comment

A broken camera—my dad straps around my neck.

A neighbor—Joe arrives, stealing joy by the door.

That afternoon I run to the playground. Frankie! Rain.

Friends come with peanuts. Cake, candles, 3 wishes:

A puppy, a bicycle, money … bubble gum lips-

what truth beholds in the mind, red wagon of a child.

Joe brings a Daschund, smiles … sorry, Sonya child.

At dinner, I drop under the table: turkey neck.

The very last smile … leaves for home—God kisses Joe’s lips.

No longer does our friend come with stories by our door.

Racing down the road—a yellow bike, 8 wishes:

I fly over my handlebars … bright blood on rocks. Rain.

Waking in the night, I tip-toe to mom and dad. Rain.

The devil chases my soul on cobble-stone. Run child.

Sleeping in the night, girls laugh, friends dream 13 wishes:

Throwing my body on an ant hill, boy bites my neck.

Where should I hide? Escaping up ten steps, Oma’s door.

One woman’s passion for youth playing, breathes from her lips…

Kissing for hours behind the barn, opening lips.

I try to outrun the storm, painting silhouettes. Rain.

Acrylics, oils, pencils, all colors swirl through a door.

My family across the ocean calls, sees no child.

Paths taken, travel one-way, spirits around my neck.

Five foot nine, growing in a lady, 20 wishes:

Puddles in the sand, deep ocean, 24 wishes:

Beautiful melody humming, more kisses on my lips.

Bodies in tune: Hands, fingers, soft-skin face, nose, mouth, neck.

Inhaling, exhaling, heat inside a room. Rest. Rain.

Escaping flames in the city, poetic child.

Noises distract my thoughts—incomplete. Come to my door.

Fleeing into the desert, I lock another door.

Sleep mother, my earth is barren, 28 wishes:

Come to my world—run beyond the stars. How lovely, child.

My heart knows only this song: Foreign, familiar lips.

Heart of innocense waits, 3 wishes in painting Rain.

Wishing years of green, red, yellow: Light around my neck.

The turns of bands, the function of time—touch dusty lips.

While waiting in the limits of the day, frame the Rain.

The last actual analysis: a soft line on my neck.

 

© Sonya Rose

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