Liberian Literary Magazine
Emily, Oh, Emily
Quiet, sentimental Emily, Who wrote so beautifully, Yet tenderly touched everyone ' s heart, With the beauty and humor, About which she wrote.
Her garden of flowers, That brushed the air, With its gentle, yet sweet scent. Blanketing the earth with her words.
Emily paused to enjoy, The simple things that life offered, While silently writing, What her heart revealed.
Emily, Oh, Emily, You gave to us a trove of beauty, Written to be shared, With all the world, As you now watch from above.
Each rosebud speaks your name, As it unfurls its soft petals, Releasing a unique scent, While the birds take-in that aromatic air, On their travels.
The gentleness of the woods, Where birds perch, High up in the trees, Watching our every move, To ensure we capture all beauty.
© December 31, 2015 by Lee Christine Brownlee Lee Christine Brownlee is a freelance writer and poet. Was born and raised in San Francisco. She was married and raised her two children, Christine and Timothy, now grown adults. Lee worked in the San Francisco Bay Area for many years before moving to New York to write and study poetry, most recently attending the Gotham Writer’ s Workshop in New York. Her supportive
Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
husband, Dick, passed away due to cancer in 2009, as she began her poetry journey. Now bringing together a lifetime of memories and dreams, beauty and sadness, putting it all together in poetry to share with others. Other than writing, she enjoys the outdoors, gardening, and cooking, taking in all the art and beauty New York City has to offer.
Lee expects her book of poetry titled Heartfelt Em otions to be released in March 2016, published by Tate Publishing.
Written by 14 yr. old Daughter
" He has cancer. " The words ingrained in my head This couldn ' t happen Those words I would dread
I cried and I cried I fell to the ground People were talking to me But I didn ' t hear a sound
We got in the car And drove to the vet I couldn ' t bear the pain He couldn ' t die yet
The room was cold And so was he I laid down next to him " Not today, please?"
I wanted more years I needed more time You think you have problems? Too bad, get in line
I laid in my bed With my thoughts astray I knew our separation wouldn ' t be long I will see him again one day
Oscar, his name There was nothing we could do I just need to say Oscar, I miss you
Wanted to get thoughts for my daughter ' s budding muse. Any help for her is appreciated. Thank you. sad poems © keith osborne 2016
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