Promo X Blind


What good are ideas and reasons
When confronted with a closed mind?
Even one’s own eyes are useless
When they insist on being blind.
The most carefully chosen words
Can fall on wilfully deaf ears
Despite the insights they can give
To anyone who willingly hears. 
The lessons here are simple:
Live humbly, and learn all you can –
Life is too short to choose ignorance
When wisdom makes you a better man.
©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam

Through The Shadows

Clouds Sella Pass Landscape Mountains Italy Sky

Stony mountain peak obscured
Behind greying, thickening cloud,
Its mystic secrets hidden deep
Underneath its misty shroud.

Yet through breaks in the shadows
Of obscurity there shines
The golden star that warms the earth
With its radiance sublime.

Nature reaches to the sun,
Embracing its warmth and light,
Harvesting all it needs from
That incandescent source of life.

Beyond that rugged mountain
Lies the Shadowland of Sorrow
Where the all-pervading darkness
Veils the beauty of Tomorrow.

The way ahead is dangerous,
An uneven, rocky road,
And though I do not walk alone
I must carry a heavy load.

Fearful of what may entrap me,
Longing for comfort or help,
Blinded by beasts I cannot see –
Life is obscured by life itself.

I persevere in this journey
Where the light so rarely shines
For each obstacle reminds me
‘Tis not the darkness that defines.

These shadows are ephemeral,
Existing only in the light;
Their power is merely temporal,
Hiding deeper truths from sight.

What is seen beyond the obstacles
Is where one’s character is shown:
There are many more things possible
Than what has been seen or known.

So I press on toward Tomorrow
And trust I’ll walk in the sun
Beyond the sinister shadows
When my sojourning days are done.

©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam

Over Complicated.

Promo X Over-Complicated Plain.

I over-think, I over-cry,
Sometimes I don’t even know why.
I over-care, I over-love,
Yet worry that I’m not enough.
I’m over-tired and I over-hurt,
I’m an over-sensitive introvert.
I over-fear and over-stress
I over-hate my weaknesses;
I over-blame myself for wrongs
And faults I haven’t overcome,
But when I’m on the receiving end,
I over-forgive and over-defend.
I over-work and over-help,
I often over-doubt myself.
I’m cynical and over-jaded…
I guess I’m over-complicated.
©2017  Joanne Van Leerdam

Train of Thought.

Promo X Train of Thought 1

Weary and worn from travelling on my own;
Yearning to feel as though I finally belong
Somewhere, or to someone, to be healed, to be free,
Wishing I were on the way to where I’m meant to be;
But I feel like I’ve been trapped and taken against my will
I’m longing for this train of thought to finally stand still,
And this inexorable journey seems endless –
The pitiless wheels keep rolling, relentless,
Carrying the ghosts of a thousand sleepless nights
Rhythmically toward the Desperation City lights.
The doleful horn cries in the dark, a harbinger of doom
Moaning in the starless shadows of misery and gloom.

©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam

One Less Star.

©Promo X One Less Star plain

Through the tears
That sprang from your pain
And fell from my eyes,
I looked into the sky
Where there was one less star shining,
And I wept for the world
Where life carries on
Just that bit darker
Than before
You left.

©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam

Sky Princess

Promo X Sky Princess
As she swings, she enters her own world,
Princess of the azure autumn sky:
Soaring through her realm, free as a bird,
Beaming broadly into amber sunlight,
Curls of ebony trailng behind her,
Like streamers made of finest silken strands.
The music of her laughter fills the air
And the world beneath her bows to her commands.
Fly on, fly high, my precious lady-girl,
To the whimsical, wonderful Land of Ahdeedah
Where your dreams and heart’s desires shall unfurl
Every time you wish upon a silver star.


©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam


En Garde.

Sport Equipment Shield Sword Black White

En garde!

And so we dance: you lunge, I parry,
Nervous and watchful, poised to strike;
You advance, aggressive and spiteful,
My deft riposte defends my life.
Our every step is choreographed
To the music that our weapons make.
I fight to live; you fight to have
That which was never yours to take.

Your rapier primed with deadly poison,
With every spiteful stroke you seek
To taint me with that vengeful essence,
To leave me wounded, bleeding, weak.
A touch! You smile when you sense blood;
Tenacious, defiant, I carry on:
You have not yet injured me enough
To warrant surrender to your wrongs.


©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam