Anguish tears great
red, raw strips from the
soul. The heart
weeps, laid bare.
Flayed wide open.
Swallowed deep in
black despair.
Fiery streams of
pain will not allow
bending, breaking.
One only comes out the
other side after
facing down the fire.
(c) Hilary Clark ~ 2/4/18
See the art here
Giddy glad gladioli
gaily grow on
garden gates, graciously
graceful and gleeful.
Grand good gifts of
gems and ganache
gleam gold glitz,
glazing on glass.
© Hilary Clark ~ 11/21/17
See the quilt here
Ensnared in a web of
ropes.
Trapped, I reach, crawl,
cower, cringe and claw.
This is not
real life.
It can’t be
real life.
Am I sleeping?
Am I
dreaming?
Tell me I’m sleeping.
This is only a
nightmare.
To be powerless is unfamiliar.
Time to wake up.
© Hilary Clark ~ 9/22/17
See the quilt here
Hilary Clark ~ Pining for Poetry 