Category Archives: Poetry

The Red-eye

I was abroad for two months, an extended vacation to avoid most of DC’s winter.  I longed for home days before the end of my trip.  I missed my routine, the comfort of my bed, my daily, albeit, short walks, etc.  I missed home so much I composed a little poem while sitting restlessly on the plane:

The Red-eye

As I sat sleepily by the window above the clouds
I watched the sun begin to rise and
Gradually blend with the indigo sky
Slowly blanketing the land with its 
dazzling light and welcoming warmth
Suddenly the green became trees and the lights, houses and cars
Touchdown! Oh, it’s good to be home!”

Ode to the Super Moon

the-magic-of-autumn-492x243

Ode to the Super Moon:

I sat by my window one wintry night
And saw the moon, oh so big and bright
As I stared at the yellow orb
I realized I wasn’t really alone
So with a plate of bread, nuts, and cheese
And a glass of red wine
And soft music playing in the background
I dined with the Super Moon.

A poem inspired by Spring

[SinglePic not found]

Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal
 
I just know when he is around
His calls are so loud, seemingly urgent
He flits about from branch to branch
My eyes could not find him.
 
He doesn’t rest
‘Til he hears the answer to his calls
 
Suddenly, a beautiful red appears
On a sea of green
Soon, a lesser red alights to join him
They both fly into the skies…..
 
Mating season has begun.
 
 
Copyright, April 11, 2017
 
Cynthia Angeles

A poem – The Mirror

Dedicated to all women of a certain age:

[SinglePic not found]

The Stare


The woman sadly turns to the mirror
eyeing the deep lines that etch her face and neck
Her eyes travel down the jiggly fat under her arms
and the bulges around her waist and stomach
With a deep sigh she mutters, “who cares?
I am old and alone in my sorrows.”

Dejected, she bends down, searches her mind
Tears flowed through the ridges on her face
Slowly, she raises her head in defiance
and shouts, “I care!”

She gets up, gets dressed up,
Puts on lipstick, eyeliner,
a bit of eyeshadow and some powder,
Wears pearls around her neck
And the transformation began.
“Yes”, she says, “I care!”

Copyright March 11, 2016

Cynthia Angeles