Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

PASSION

A star pulsating in all of us, Passion is amorous with diamond dust.

It swells to compassion as time rolls, Passion resides within the seat of our soul.

It is pleasure, pure and undefiled, Passion’s baby-fresh scent makes us smile.

Frozen hearts wake up, they even weep, Passion is the reason we enjoy scrumptious sleep.

From lure of complacency we can be free, Passion equals fresh surge of energy.

Just listen! It leads us to follow our heart, Passion is God’s flashlight that glows in the dark.

It doesn’t nurture angst or hate, take heed, Pure passion won’t dent its scale with greed.

Passion’s like persons firmly passing batons, It’s as good as pupils stretching talents beyond.

Now and then when I’m down, it’s poetry writing, Pure passion in fact, is far removed from sin.

Don’t drop the gift while there’s life in it, Climbers with passion have reached summit.

Passion tells no lies, it takes no hostages, Then again, it held me with this message.

Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

A MERRY BLACKBERRY MORNING

Clusters of blackberries dangled fresh An early morning treat I won’t forget— First, my purple bicycle, warm breeze and me, We were soon at once in ecstasy… With clear skies, lush trees, and the Hudson. A quiet morn, with joggers and bikers along Smooth winding path; it was the path I took— And I, half-full with my ride, looked Beyond a low-railed fence at two…feasting! Dark, juicy, cellular-shaped berries, small like cherries! I dismounted my bike! Then there were three Beneath one tree… A merry blackberry morn, I breakfast by the Hudson, Overlooking New Jersey.

SIMPLY, GOOD MORNING

Another rainy morning with you, I marvel at intricate joy Like a forgotten toy. I awoke to your touch, soft with care. Love patiently waits, just as you and I partake, Time has been good to us, Your smooth and tender touch yet Lingers long in twilight years, After all we have climbed far To courteous caves; Is it we’ve prayed and stayed the course? And have reached the clearing, Good morning! In early morn my pen poised like stillness of trees awaiting breeze

Alone at dining room table past the midday hour I had the company of an ant

In temp of one hundred a black bird basked in my shadow

Light brown bedbug Seen on green mat in Crowded yoga class

Driving home by night I fled the signal of a white hand hitchhiking

With evening sun, jet black butterfly courted my Pansies and I was pleased

How sad my philodendron buds naked before Winter’s frost

Earth held in traction By glistening silver moon Full like a balloon