Under the Tree, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Under the tree

There will come a time
When I shall no longer be.
No more than
Food for the waiting tree.

In so little time
I shall be but a memory.
Fading ever quickly
As the winter’s sun.

Hear the tick of time
Rushing into the future
With so little regard
To the call of a beggar.

Love has little time
To deliver its tender touch.
One to last forever
From her I love so much.

From death there’s no retreat
Yet I shall return
As a scented flower
That grows under the tree.

Red Raindrops Fell, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Red Raindrops Fell. This poem I dedicate to all veterans, past and present.

The red raindrops fell
Pitter patter thick as jell
Falling randomly
Like players placing their bet
Cleared with rateau de roulette

War is not a game
A winner we cannot claim
There are body counts
Each tagged then placed in a bag
Soon to be draped with a flag

None intend to die
Deny, is to tell a lie
They’re our true treasure
There’s a huge price that we pay
With tears falling every day

Without a goodbye
In the dark cold earth they lie
Silent they all are
In a place starkly barren
Not again to feel the sun

Consumed by Fire, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Consumed by Fire

A moon so bright creates a lover’s light
Is I who wishes to quickly begin
By touching her unblemished naked skin
With my lips, won’t miss any part in sight
To taste her beauty with fervent delight
So crazed shan’t yield to any discipline
My vivid passion such a fire within
Shall continue burning throughout this night

From the window we feel the morning sun
I’m ivy, to her body tightly clung
Being repeatedly charged with arson
From the tallest yardarm she’ll have me hung
To her words I am not a bit craven
With a grin I stick out my hungry tongue

A Magic Place, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

A Magic Place

A stillness flows over the open land
A blanket, the sky is my quiet shield
The ocean rolls softly toward the sand
Powers of this setting sun is revealed

Stretching out attempting to catch its rays
Letting them fall softly upon my hand
Wonderful feelings, always to amaze
Overcome by this sight so still I stand

Watching the horizon as colors spread
The big ball of fire is distinctly white
Crowned in yellow fading to orange-red
Giving my heart such a delightful sight

Until total darkness I’ll hold this place
With the feeling this land is full of grace

My Winter Plan, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

My Winter Plan

It’s a very special time of the year
Time for developing a winter plan
Freezing temperatures shall soon be here
Forget about working on your suntan

The sun is now shortening her workday
Instead of bright green I see dull yellow
Many a bird has chosen not to stay
Instead flying away before the snow

There’ll be visits of the polar vortex
With vehicles preferring not to move
While their drivers suffer from the effects
This turmoil and trouble I don’t approve

My plan is quite simple to understand
Tickets purchased to palm trees and white sand

Love Smiled at Me, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Love Smiled at Me

Love smiled at me as his deft arrow flew,
Toward the target that’s upon my heart.
Through the center, the pain was very smart.
Was paralyzed as I stood before you.
Struggling hard with every breath I drew,
Like antiquities was falling apart.
Unable this massive crumbing to thwart,
Feeling my final moments to be few.

But you gave the appropriate assist.
Leaning forward with your soft parted lips.
Sharing your honey sweet breath as we kissed.
Such a rush was able to come to grips.
This is a love that I have sorely missed.
Ready to take many more of these trips.

Full Moon and Wind, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Full Moon and Wind

The wind like a sweeping broom
Wish, swish, rattling every dish
Providing sounds of looming doom
Clouds so fearful begin to weep
What object to overcome such gloom?
Every given answer is “Not I.”
Even the voices from the tomb
Yield for fear to be exhumed
Through the day all stayed at bay
Allowing the wind to have its way
Finally comes the end of day
Now above their many heads
They take notice of the full moon
Gleaming bright with a silly grin
Taking control of what’s below
Giving an eye to the nasty wind
Which falls softly as a lamb
All is quiet in this night
It is now time under the covers
That all heads shall be out of sight