She is your best friend. Sometimes she is your only friend. She carried you inside her body and loved and nourished your little body and soul. She held your hand and guided you down the path of life. She loves you even if she is no longer here on earth. She looks down on you from heaven. Her love and protection never ends. She is your mother.
Virginia Reid
A poem is like a birthday present,
a special heartfelt offering, wrapped in
pretty paper in your favorite color, tied with
satin ribbon that tugs at your heart.
Happy Birthday
Virginia Reid
The long, cold, winter is over.
Flee the troubles of the past.
Search, perhaps in vain, for peace and a change of scene.
Walk an easier path through the rough country.
But, through everything, enjoy the comfort of friends nearby,
especially my most special friend, my guardian, constant,
forever strong.
Virginia Reid
Hello
Where have you been?
In town, out of town.
Visiting a childhood friend,
back from the days when you
were little and didn’t need
so much room to live in.
I’ve been busy too. Doing
this and that. Have you heard ?
Going about my sad errands.
All alone.
Oh well, back to HELLO.
Being full of seasonal cheer,
and all things good,take
the time to say hello, to friends
old and new.
Polish your shoes and
the furniture too.
Paint the walls a nice
bright red, like the balls
of glitter that hang
from the tree.
Put mistletoe in
your hair, and
tinsel on the tree.
Then make plans
for the Happy New Year
all shiny and new.
Don’t forget your
Guardian Angel
who is never far
from you.
Can you see him, walking
down the street.
My man a true man.
Never lost in a crowd,
just one face
among many.
Unflinching, never
cowering. Standing
solid, while others
flee.
My man, a true
man, comes home
to me.
Virginia Reid
I know that staying silent
is never
enough.
I don’t have the courage to
say what I should
to you.
Instead,
I should wear my foolish heart
on the outside, so there is no
need for words.
You arrive, unbidden, just as
my troubles threaten
to overwhelm me.
Like a woman,
drowning in trouble.
I reach for the
life line you toss
in my direction.
My unspoken gratitude
floats on the surface
of a troubled sea.
The autumn wind blows,
whispering of things
to come.
Leaves, weary from clinging
to their branches,
hold on one last time.
They fall to the ground,
with a sigh of relief
that is carried
on the wind.
Virginia Reid
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