Dirty old box.
Covered by times dust.
It sits in the corner of the room
That life forgot.

To open it up
May overwhelm the soul
With memories that died
So long ago.

Oily scent of leather.
An album that holds the secrets.
It says they’re still here.

Time to let the ghosts out.
Set the restless ones free.
Time to remember.

Sweet nostalgia of 70’s past
Help me close my eyes

And take me back.

-Tanya Powell

Sometimes I hear them,
In the middle of the night.
I turn on the lights.
I walk down a hallway
They’ve never been in.
Their voices have faded.
They never lived here.
They must have followed me.

I only see them in my dreams.
Can they ever see me?
If they can are they proud?
Do they know how happy I am
Without them?
Do they know why I feel so free?
Do they know how much I miss them?

I want them to know,
That the sun has found its way
Into my life.
I can walk outside
And not be afraid
Of the dark cloud that hung over our home.

Now I see a bright light.
Three beautiful rays of
Hope…happiness.. and love,
Make their way through the trees.
They touch the flowers.
They kiss the grass.
They have found a lost soul at last.

I feel the warmth on my face.
Along with a smile
That I thought had died.
I close my eyes and realize.
The rays are the spirits
Of the ones who left me.

They had died without saying goodbye.
I wondered where they were.
They’ve been here the whole time.
Giving me the sunshine
They were unable to give before.

I can see the blue skies.
So clear…so beautiful.
They took away the clouds.
They did all that for me.
Because at one time…

I was their sunshine.

-Tanya Powell

Born too soon
But never too late.
Fighting and screaming.
A miracle was made.

Strawberries and vanilla.
Swallowed up by a crib.
Blue eyes that light the sky.
A scared and delicate soul.

A two pound baby
That the angels want to hold.
They wanted her from the beginning.
Over the years they let her know.

Every day was a struggle.
A moment of peace between tears.
I’d hold her hand.
She’d close her eyes.
I’d give her a kiss.
She’d try to smile.

They would tug at her heart strings.
I held her as long as I could.
She’s mine!
She doesn’t belong to you!

Bring back her sight.
Bring back her mind.
Bring back her health.
Bring back her life.
Bring her back to me.
To let us live the way
It was meant to be.

Today I can only see her face.
In the tiny little frame.
That sits on top of the piano.
Wanting to come out to sit and play.

Yesterday she sat there.
Pounding notes that screamed
She was alive.
Tomorrow the notes will be silent.
We won’t hear music anymore.

But when the sun goes down
And it starts to rain.
I’ll sit on the piano bench
And she will be there.

My mother Candy….

As sweet as her name.

-Tanya Powell

Do you hear the crickets yet?
I long to hear their song.
They let me know
When it’s time to dream.
To forget the day.
To remember yesterday.

Tomorrow hasn’t happened yet
And I don’t want it to.
Glued to the rocker
On my front porch.
Gazing across the yard.
Oh what beautiful ivy,
It’s seen alot.
The air so still.
The branches don’t move.
Neighbors so quiet,
Are they still there?

Just me alone.
So much better this way.
The clock may have stopped
For the crickets and me.
Now is the time
To numb the pain
Of a bankrupt life
That was filled with
Disillusion and lies.

Tried to be invisible
But those skeletons
Always lured me toward the light
Where they all could see me
Trembling with fury
After the salt dried on my cheeks.
No more
No more.
On this July evening

There will be a fleeting hush
To the nightmare I endured
When the crickets hypnotize me
And put me in a merciless sleep
With their lullaby.

-Tanya Powell