Friday, February 1, 2019




Songs sung to while away time,
waiting for seasons to turn.

Moonlight dances to a mellow tune,
as stars tiptoe across a dynamic sky.

Hours drift by, as the moment’s
beauty transcends a reality,
lost in illusion spun from dreams.

There are moments, lost between
time, hiding from sunlight.

All that is left is an echo of some
past. The answer to the question
that I do not dare to ask.

Earth turns again as it sings along
to the seasons’ changing melody.

Summer to fall,
winter to spring,
an eternal march of time


Staring into the light,
darkness blinds me.

Not knowing which direction,
a crimson flame appears.

A fiery rose leads the way,
brilliant beacon of the night.

New is old, and old is new,
as passions fade and die.

For I am that blazing rose.
I looked into my own eyes.

I set my course inward,
deep into my core.

I shall no longer be
a bane upon myself.

For no mere mortal can crush
a burning rose within their hand.


Another storm has passed,
the sun shines once more.
Cards hold an unknown future,
as cast upon the floor.

Broken tree branches
strewn upon the ground,
like many dying dreams,
scattered all around.

Calm has settled in,
Earth breathes a deep sigh.
Peace again restored,
as rainbows fill the sky.


ANN CHRISTINE TABAKA was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA.  She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.

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