Christina A. Sharik
MY TREASURE CHEST
I love the camaraderie in this group,
and all your understanding;
I feel at ease, and peaceful here ~
For no one is demanding.
A poet’s thoughts are dreams
of words, colored with emotion;
sad descriptions of war’s horror,
flound’ring ships upon the ocean.
I spread my feelings on the ground
as if they were a cloak:
I wrap my heartache all around,
and the flames of passion stoke.
Don’t you feel as if you’re naked?
How can you write the things you do?
Yes, I lay bare the soul of me;
When I share my thoughts with you.
I trust you not to laugh at me,
to be honest, with some tact;
a poem is an inner prayer ~
a feeling more than fact.
A poet’s life is angst and woe,
sometimes, by nature, blest.
Each of you is a jewel that shines
within my treasure chest.
©Copyright September 22, 2005 by Christina A. Sharik
This poem prompted the response, “Top of My Head Poem” ~ ©Copyright September 22, 2005 by Robin Amy Bass