Muse

Crowned with a garland of heavenly flowers
My muse appears at times of solitude;
Cherished companion of secluded hours,
Bestower of verses in plenitude. 
In precious moments of visitation
Her ephemeral presence comforts me; 
Her gifts of lyrical inspiration
Give birth to a wellspring of poetry,
Where thoughts and emotions cascade into 
A broad pool of thoughtful reflection
Where the seeker can find perspectives new      
Amid moments of deep introspection. 
Hers are the lines that purge my troubled soul:
Let these songs heal my heart and make me whole. 

***

‘Muse’ is one of the poems in the collection titled ‘The Passing Of The Night’.

©2016 Joanne Van Leerdam

Full.

“I’m full of good ideas,” I told him,
“Full of something,” he promptly said,
And he was right: there’s always more
Than just bright ideas in my head.

Vivid memories stream on a cinema screen,
To a soundtrack of favourite songs,
A maple tree full of autumn leaves
So my heart can visit where it belongs.
There’s a flowing river of storylines
And a deep well of imagery,
A box full of timely lessons, hard learned,
And useful facts from world history.
The walls are lined with shelves of books
And pictures of beloved faces,
There’s a graveyard to visit with those who have passed
And doorways to favourite places.

And right at the back, where no-one can see,
In the darkest part of my brain,
There’s a very deep hole where I throw away
Things I don’t want to think of again.

©2018 Joanne Van Leerdam

Beloved.

This poem is perfect to share for Valentine’s Day- and every other day!

All rights reserved.

Shares are welcomed and appreciated.

1.37am

Promo Leaf 1.37am Plain
I’m crying when I should be sleeping
And I’m not even sure of what’s wrong,
But sadness whispers it’s cruelest lies
When I’m alone in the dark for too long.

The blackness is filled with aching
And misery heavier than air,
Velvet blankets of darkness enfold me
As I drown in the waves of despair.

I wish that my mind would stop churning,
Let my body and soul find some peace;
But the pain and the fear keep returning,
Denying me any release.

If the coldest, darkest hour,
Is the one that comes just before dawn,
This darkness must give up its power
When the first hint of morning is born.

Oh please, let the first light come quickly
And replenish my heart with its fire
Let the daylight drive out the darkness
And bring me the peace I desire.

Leaf 2nd Ed Title Only copy
©2016 Joanne Van Leerdam

This poem is one of 43 that appear in the collection titled Leaf.

The Artist

The Artists Plain

Pictures splash furiously onto each page,
Images shaped with both light and shade,
Memories and thoughts, things she wished she had said,

Emotions and fears that had never been shared.

Some pages were dark, some filled with desire,
Yet others glowed with heaven’s own fire;
Some scenes that exposed the true hearts of men,

Were blotched by tears she had shed over them.

Some pictures were smudged, some faded with time,
Others vivid with colour, rhythm and rhyme.
Some portraits brought pleasure, some caused her pain

That she had hoped she might never feel again.

And the truth looked directly back into her eyes,
Its gaze unashamed, its candour undisguised,
For what she had thought had been fiction’s domain

Was staring at her and speaking her name.

The shock of enlightenment jolted her soul –
Each page revealed truths that had never been told;
Every fiction created as part of her art

Had been drawn from the depths of her world-weary heart.

©2016 Joanne Van Leerdam

The Artist is one of my favourite poems from ‘Leaf’.

I was inspired to write it by my friend Nicky, who is an incredibly gifted

Leaf 2nd Ed Title Only copyartist. On looking at one of her paintings, I commented that I wished I could do what she did.
She said, “You do. You just do it with words.”

 

Leaf is available in your favourite digital bookstore or in paperback.

One Less Star.

©Promo X One Less Star plain

Tonight
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

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img_3407This poem and fifty others are now published in a new collection: The Passing Of The Night.

Stained Glass.

A masterful, vivid mosaic,
A fragmented work of art;
She finds her greatest beauty when
Light shines through the tinted glass.
Though fragile, her strength is in the scars
That unify her; thus, she remains
Beautifully broken and mended,
And permanently, poignantly stained.

This poem is published in the collection titled ‘Stained Glass’.
Available in your favourite digital bookstore.

Exposure.

Three shots, one scene: my favourite naked tree.

 

What is without reflects the truth
Of that which lies within:
Stormy sky, vulnerable soul –
A metaphor of my reality.

A Poem In Honour Of My Birthday

Today I’m forty-nine years old,
And I’ve achieved a lot,
I’ve been a teacher for decades –
A career as a nerdy swot.
I’ve loved and lost and laughed and cried,
And had some fun along the way,
And I’ve learned that faith and loyalty
Beat popularity, any day.
I’ve sung and acted on the stage,
As a director, I’ve shown my worth;
I love to entertain my friends
With both sarcasm and mirth.
I’ve had my poetry published,
It’s nice to be in print!
It’s just a shame that famous writers
Are generally fairly skint.
I’m proud to be Australian,
And I’ve adopted Canada, too:
If I could live in both places
That’s absolutely what I’d do.
So today I’m going to smile again
I’m prepared to take my place
As the birthday queen of June Sixteen,
Exuding style and charm and grace.
So unleash all the birthday love,
And send it all my way,
I’m more than ready to indulge
In my celebration day.
PS: Come to my book launch tonight,
It should be really great,
You can buy a copy for twenty bucks
And I’ll sign it as your mate.

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