Bury me with chocolates,
The kind I love so well.
Send dark and bitter candy wreaths
With leaves of caramel.
...
Memories are only
Tattoos on the brain,
Pain-etched, day by day,
Brush-stroked in joy.
...
Dreams often break
on their way across the night
with a terrible shredding sound as
quiet tears brand the place
...
There is something so comforting in the sound
of a bassoon singing strongly and deeply,
filling all the dark corners of a concert hall.
...
Go slowly.
Nibble it around the edges and sigh.
Lick the sugar off the top
then close your eyes, remembering
...
They fling their flowers quickly out to sea.
Each petal is a prayer upon a wave,
Pressing against the tide deliberately.
They dare to watch, recalling all they gave
...
Tattoos
It is memories that tattoo tender skin,
pain that holds and pierces, ink etching
...
It is night and houses hold
a hallowed hour of simple sweetness,
subtle glow at the core,
comfort framed within each window.
...
In the forest where no one can hear,
the proverbial tree falls.
Sound waves like whispers waft
across the sky and vanish.
...
FOG HOLDS LIGHTS
Fog holds lights in soft hands stroking
the bay, floating across waters alive
...
In Taos, pueblos are striped with ladders
leading to blue doors like pieces of sky.
Inside, braves wrapped in blankets
...
After the Knife
…and for the rest of her life,
that unwanted child came to her in dreams
...
In the dream your image
is just around the bend,
your finger beckoning
...
Words land like birds
Upon my lined paper.
They flutter nervously,
Chirp without ceasing
...
The girl walked beneath stars showing
and moon glowing,
gathering night poems.
Then, as a gift sent from heaven,
...
The day the son of Ana Maria de Santos
was swept from her arms
by a hillside of mud
was the last time she saw colors.
...
Someone is eavesdropping on my heart.
Wires taped to my chest
reveal ocean sounds swishing
rhythmically and without ceasing.
...
Memories of other centuries
live within this instrument,
slipping along twisting streets
within ancient walled cities.
...
After the wedding, her parents
took bouquets to a nursing home
where patients clapped their hands,
remembering weddings and music and love.
...
Raynette Eitel grew up in the Southwest, knowing she was a poet as soon as she could spell. She left New Mexico upon her marriage and moved to Colorado Springs where she was wife, mother, and later, teacher. She is retired now and living in Las Vegas where she writes and has given workshops in poetry. She likes to think her muse dwells in both Hawaii and Sedona, Arizona. Her poetry has been published in a wide variety of literary publications, newspapers and anthologies. Her first book, Harsh Country, a collection of poems about the Southwest, was published by XLibris. Her second book, Earthen Jar, is s collection of many kinds of poetry written throughout her life. Her third book, Preludes to An Allelujah Chord, was published by XLibris in 2010 and is a collection of Christmas poems. Should you want to order one of these books, contact Raynette through Poemhunter and she can tell you about the mailing cost.)
Bury Me With Chocolates
Bury me with chocolates,
The kind I love so well.
Send dark and bitter candy wreaths
With leaves of caramel.
Chocolate chip tears upon my cheeks,
White chocolate pillows filled with creams
To soothe me in my final sleep
And sweeten all my heavenly dreams.
Place one lone lovely chocolate rose
With petals curling in my hand.
Heap gold foil coins in random piles,
Egyptian-like, and oh so grand.
Please do not toast me with champagne,
A rich hot chocolate will do,
Laced with a touch of cinnamon
And then perhaps marshmallows too.
But if you plan a conflagration
To send me warmly to my rest,
Do not forget I’ve always loved
A sticky, hot fudge Sundae best.
Raynette: I'm so glad you commented on 'April' this morning, as I then tabbed over to your poems. Wonderful work as far as I've read - and I'm so glad to meet you you. Anne
Hey, I can relate to your Nightmare. not to criticize, but what is a predictable apple? is that a typo, or is it a profound term to deep for my mentality? NEway, your good. I hope to see more of your poetry. My deepest compliments to a Comrade and fellow poet. I bow to you.
i have never been more entertained reading poems. you should a poet laureate. however, so far yours are more into nature poem. perhaps you should expand to other genres - for portfolio.
Raynette, it is a privilege and a lasting delight to read your poems on this site. May there be m any more of them. Thank you.
We missed your writings Raynette, hope everything is going well
On a par with many of the other well known western poetry writers, Raynette can thrill you with her lovely western scenes, and you can almost hear the wind howling between the ghost buildings. Her other lovely nature poems are well done too, but man, I love her western settings. Wonderful treat in store here for anyone looking for cowboys, and other goodies!
Raynette, I am so happy and proud to be able to post poetry on a site along with yours. You are one of the most talented poets and caring souls I have (never) met. I love your work and I am so glad you share it here as you do. Sincerely, Mary
Raynette...I admire the consistant voice of your poems...you have struck a harmonious balance between your own thoughts and your muses...running thru the very core of each individual piece you write....speaking with an eloquant earth trodden pallet, you inspire me with your thoughts and insights~
Raynette, thank you for commenting on my work. I have now read yours and like it very much. I particularly like the apparent simplicity and ease of language - this is hard to acheive but you have done it very well. Regards, Gol
Raynette, your work has really struck me as quite beautiful. I enjoy reading your work. Thank you, Regards, Seán