Tag Archives: Women

Only A Picture

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I hold in my hand pictures
Of a time long since past by.
And the only real thing I see,
Is these images speaking to me.

A tear falls from salty eyes,
As my mind starts to realize,
That those times are pictures now,
And I will never relive those images.

I see you and me back then,
And I forgot what it was like to feel,
Those feelings I felt back then,
For you and me and that time.

I don’t think I could say,
Nor my mind proclaim,
The dreams I once held,
And the words I once gave.

And the saddest thing,
The tragedy above them all,
Is the difference time makes,
How strong feelings fall.

I know the feelings I once had,
Are now trapped in those images
And the ones I hold of you now
Don’t fit those pictures at all.

My heart now is numb, and lost,
But the saddest thing really is,
That all I know of you now
Is how you are a picture to me.

by Ryan Wormald

Mother

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She is the flower of love’s fair
And the ship that brought us there.
She kisses the wounds on our knees
And calls us down from the tree.
She is warm apple ciders draught
After snow forts in an empty lot.
She is the tears that run down
When your choices introduce the ground.
She is the one who spelled fun
And showed us games under the sun.
She is a bent knee and clasped hands
And a whispered prayer to the Man.
She is the one who will cry on the day
Her training completes and you move away.
She is the hand of strength to little legs
Too weak to walk in those early days.
She is the song in a lullaby
And your home tell she dies.
Who has had such a friend as her?
Like your God given blessed mother.

by Ryan Wormald

Love Not in Dreams

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Dreams can be pitiful things,
When your secret love in them flies.
They do to you terrible things,
When you see your hidden love’s eyes.

She torments me in my dreams,
This love who knows not my name.
There she does to me dreadful things,
And treats my love like a game.

Then I awake to see her not,
The love who knows not my name,
But in my heart I still rot,
To wish she’d love me all the same.

by Ryan Wormald

Death by Sugar

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This is my story
This is my time
How I lived on sugar
And how by sugar I died.

This tale may be sweet
But not without its bite
I loved my sugar
But sugar let me die.

Sugar she seduced me
Captured me with her touch
Laid her hands in me
And took way too much.

I knew I was prejudice
To eat only that substance.
To sugar was my debt
And sugar called its presence.

I despised whole food
Only to beckon sugar’s call
But sugar was empty
So empty I did fall.

Sugar offers her hand,
But its not truly there
She only offers lies,
She doesn’t really care.

You may believe the lie:
She is what you need,
But soon that will die,
As she, on you feeds.

I guess in truth’s stare
It wouldn’t be so bad,
If it wasn’t just me
Who became so sad.

My friend, listen well
She isn’t worth the pain,
She may seem so sweet,
But its bitterness you gain

by Ryan Wormald

Be Mine

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Will you be,
With eyes so bright,
And a smile so wide,
My date tonight?

Will you go,
With skin so fair,
And lips so full,
On my arm there?

Will you hold,
With hands so warm
And fingers so tight,
My heart in form?

Will you be,
With hair that shines
And kisses soft,
My Valentine?

by Ryan Wormald

Alone Again

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I silently watched you,
Softly covered with dew.
Flower so delicate and strong,
My gaze stayed perhaps, a time to long.

Pretty flower why must you torture me so.
I am so fragile and weak, you don’t even know.
Oh that I could hold you my precious flower,
No longer then would I have to cower.

My fear of flowers, bids me fair haven.
Perhaps it is because they are a bit of heaven.
In my dreams I can watch with an unabashed eye,
The flowers in the garden pass me by.

You my precious flower, I cannot see but in my dreams,
Perhaps it is a curse, to see you only in my dreams.
But then if I saw you here today,
I would no doubt runaway.

What do I have to bring?
That would make a flower’s heart ring.
That would bring a flower to my door.
Perhaps then, I, you will no longer ignore.

I stand in the garden every day,
Hoping you will come by and stay.
But for now in my dreams you live.
Perhaps later, to me, your heart you will give.

Perhaps later,
Yes it must be later.

by Ryan Wormald
12-20-02

While I Was Sleeping

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When I caught a glimpse of her eyes,
I knew that I was caught
They were as dark as night flies,
And from their grasp I couldn’t be wrought.

Her dark beauty spelled my demise,
I knew that I was bought,
For those flies burned my disguise,
And left me there, where I always sought.

Her soft voice didn’t surprise,
But calmed more often than not,
Lacking any hint of lies,
I wondered if it would ever be fought.

I desired those fly filled eyes,
More than you or I ought.
With that crime I found my demise,
And discovered I would always be caught

By the woman with dark fly eyes
And soft voice sugar lies,
Who always flies after my demise
In my dreams and their hollow lies.

by Ryan Wormald
9-2-04