The Candle, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Woman with a Taper, Jules Breton 1873Woman with Taper, Jules Breton (1873)

The Candle

Candle’s glow let forever to be your guide
Making sure its bright flame never to quit
The wind’s access must always be denied
Wind is evil, tempting you to submit

Might your candle’s glow suddenly disappear
Do not place it in a darkened drawer
For your future will then become nadir
Must make an effort its flame to restore

Surround yourself with those whom you think dear
Be not afraid to share what is you fear
If true to yourself future will be clear
The glow of the flame you now will restore

Light of the candle to you be sacred
Then drink of His wine and eat of His bread

 

 

Sea Calling Me, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Sea Calling MeImage manipulated by author

Sea Calling Me

In quiet stillness I observe the hue
Of the mighty endless sea before me
Sweeping eyes drinking the depth of her blue
With desire to be consumed by this sea

I’ve visited her countless times before
She always seems to appeal to me more
Calling me with gentleness of her shore
Her soft tender loving clutch I adore

I am naked to all of her power
Still shy, with my toes I touch her azure
Her wave coaxes me a little closer
Now I am totally consumed by her

Joy as she touches every part that be
She gives me a feeling of being free

 

Barn, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

BarnAllensville Hay Press Barn, Switzerland County, Gwen Gutwein (2008)

Barn

Its many boards of gray are on display.
Their opened grain bear the signs of aged pain.
From their perfect centers did move away.
Long gone are the days of its mighty reign.

Shows no mighty power to right itself,
Relying totally on my pity.
Knowing each board makes for a proper shelf,
Adding many dollars to my kitty.

Once inside I could feel its unique scent,
Wondering where all those memories went.
Where I day upon day happily spent,
Lingering has changed my early intent.

I’d better go and fetch the proper crane,
As this is where this creature shall remain.

 

Autumn by the River, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Autumn by the riverAutumn, Emilio Sánchez Perrier (c. 1900)

Autumn by the River

Song birds of the trees have made their retreat
Cool winds of autumn chased summer away
Colors of the quiet land now blasé
Busy fields in summer are not deplete

Paces of the past are now slowing down
Giving moments of pure quiet pleasure
Thinking of the silos filled with treasure
Waiting arrival winter’s bridal gown

Cataloging thoughts at the river’s edge
Reminiscing the joys that came my way
In mind the desire to ensure they stay
Seeking more in the future is my pledge

Studying the river as it goes by
It is my life passing by that I see
Message is always busy I must be
Like plants I will eventually die

 

 

 

Glass Door, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

windowImage manipulated by author

Glass Door

With bucket of water, squeegee and rag,
Performing menial chore I abhor.
For it will always make my spirits sag,
Daily cleaning of the stately glass door.

Fully covered with finger prints galore.
Strange as it be that it has no push bar,
Makes me hate this nasty door even more.
Without a key lock makes it more bizarre.

Limitless numbers who come but can’t pass.
Is this door’s only purpose to harass?
Or clearly an obstruction made of glass,
To ensure creation of an impasse?

Now clearly understanding took an axe,
Gave the mighty wall of glass forty whacks.

 

 

 

 

Snow Scene, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Henry Alexander, Snow Scene through a Winter Window, 1870.Snow Scene through a Winter Window, Henry Alexander (1870)

Snow Scene

Under blankets, another frigid night
Could feel aching chill in my weary bones
Feared what horror there would be my first sight
Feeling confident would be many moans

Looking through button holes, saw the bright white
Tired of the piling up of winter’s snow
This freezing matter is no longer trite
Miserable stuff really must go

A death row prisoner is what I am
Give me my last meal and be done with it
Never have been fan of winter’s program
Ever bored of doing nothing but sit

For the joy of spring I hunger and thirst
Can I survive, it’s but November first

 

Woman in My Life, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Elizabeth_Jane_Gardner_-_After_the_engagement (c. 1882)
Elizabeth Jane Gardner, After the Engagement (c. 1882)

Woman in My Life, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

You’re the sunshine that greets me every day
Your soft smile puts one on my yawning face
Your eyes so bright a message they convey
Your lips many kisses on mine do place

Your first embrace steadies my wobbly feet
You are the sweetness in my morning cup
Your touch is the first I desire to meet
You are the one that makes my heart gallop

Your love gives to me such warming comfort
Your strength to pick me up when I am down
You give me special joy the way you flirt
You do all of this still in a nightgown

You are the one who truly made my life
Each morning I give thanks you are my wife