Magician

I had a friend some time ago
And he knew magic tricks
He’d wear a cloak
Of deepest black
And twirl his magic stick


‘Til doves shot out the end of it
And rabbits in his hat
I loved his deck
Of playing cards
Red hearts and spades of black


Until the day he smiled at me
And cocked his tousled head
And told me words
No one had heard
And secrets never said


“Look very close,” he whispered then
“Watch how I move my hands.”
The magic tricks
I loved so much
Were only that— a sham!


He showed me secret doors and traps
And hidden springs and wires
And playing cards
And colored scarves
And powders that made fire


He taught me too to do the tricks
And how to stage a show
He was so pleased
And I just smiled
Like I was glad to know


I wish he hadn’t said it, though
I wish I had it back
That last illusion
Genie’s ghost
That swirling cape of black

Player

You shouldn't have let me see your scorecard.
I know you keep it in your back pocket.
You mark it every time you win a round
Every time someone cries because of you
Or sobs
Or breaks
Or gasps in pain and hopeless confusion
Every time you're on top.
Am I a player in your game too?
I want to see if my name is on your scorecard.
When you make me laugh
Or smile
Or tell you I love you
Is that because then you get more points when you take me down?
I'm done.
I quit.
I'm walking away from this.
Mark your card.
You win by forfeit. 


© Andrea Grace

Mirrors and Windows

She thought she saw a monster's face
That looked into her eyes
Trapped behind
The mirror's glass
A nightmare born of lies


When she looked out the window, too,
She saw it yet again
And turned away
But still she feared 
That people could see in


She wrapped a blanket 'round herself
And thought that she could hide
But no escape
From curious eyes
No matter how she tried


So she pulled shut the curtains
And she sewed them all up tight
She kept outside
The people's gaze
But also blocked the light


But still she saw that face she feared
When mirrors she did pass
She covered them
With heavy sheets
So couldn't see the glass


She lived out all her days like that
No mirrors, curtains closed
And never knew
     This single truth—


               That she was beautiful.

~© Andrea Grace

Conspiracy

They took my notebook— burned it up!
And my computer too! 
'Cause I had written things they thought
No person but them knew


Their secrets all were in there
(It's true I snooped around)
And all the plans they had conceived.
They hid, but then I found!


I looked through filing cabinets
I had to break some codes
I may have hacked computers,
And I might have stolen notes


'Til finally I had it all— 
Their whole entire plot!
I was about to tell the world
But found that I could not!


They broke into my house (the fiends!)
My proof, my records— gone
They think that they can force me to
Just shut up and move on


But they don't know me well enough.
They left one thing behind. 
They took my notes; but their mistake—
They left me with my mind!


~© Andrea Grace

Cemetary

I wandered in a graveyard
In the silence, in the dark
And read the names
Inscripted on
Each stone that bore a mark

I read their dates of birth
And I read too their dates of death
Those solemn lines
That told the tale
Of stopped heart; stolen breath.

Sometimes I could not read the dates
On some, the names were gone
An empty stone
A nameless ghost
A life forgotten long

A person once, that danced and laughed
And sang and ate and slept
Has now become
A silent thing
A memory never kept

I never saw their faces
I never knew their names
But still these empty
Silent stones
Inspire curious pain

Perhaps one day, my headstone too
Will crumble down or fade
My face will vanish
Just the same
As theirs were snatched away

I'll never know their names at all
And they will not know mine
We'll, all of us
Be only ghosts
From once upon a time

~ © Andrea Grace

I went to South Carolina with the family I work for (who I love), and the history there was just awesome. I wrote this after walking in a cemetary near where we stayed. Also, I decided that I believe in ghosts. Wholeheartedly.

Destroyer

A clever trick, a smiling thief
Will you give me your full belief?

A heart of stone, a charming bell
The weapon of the prince of hell

Assassin of so many dreams
I am a tool for evil schemes

I murder love; I ruin friends
I laugh to see their smiles end

I’m beautiful, with charming ways
Can’t see past my disarming gaze

You’ll love me and you’ll think I care
And follow me through storm or fair

You’ll think my evil heart is good
And all the time, I’ll shed your blood

I’ll ruin you with lies and pain
But you’ll come back to me again

I’ll kill you soon. I’ll watch you die
And you’ll still trust my every lie

Be careful now. You think you’re safe
But stay on guard, or I’ll invade

I’ll snatch you up, ensnare your feet
And you’ll say thanks

To me,

     Deceit.

© Andrea Grace

He Little Knew the Vengeance That Awaited Him

     Kids are awesome. They are way smarter than most of us give them credit for. Everything they do is either hilarious or interesting. I was at the playground with the two children I babysit the other day, and this was brought home to me again when I witnessed this little drama unfolding before my eyes.

     The boy was about ten years old, and he was a little different from the other children. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but something about him was just not the same. He was a little slow, and his face bore traces of the lonely and resentful expression of a child that is never quite understood. He liked to shout at the others, and the small ones were afraid of him (with the exception of the two-year-old girl I babysit, who treated him with queenly indifference). I had to tell him off, myself, for yelling at and frightening my small charges. He acted rashly, however, when he scared a little four-year-old girl. She ran off, crying, to seek solace from her older sister and her three friends.

      Well, I could have told him he’d made a mistake.

Jeweler

I think a Jeweler made the sky
I think He uses metals bright
He spread Himself an onyx sheet
And placed it over Earth at night

I think He took a crystal clear
And broke into many shards
He poured them out into the black
And we looked up and called them stars

He minted once a silver coin
And hung it out and called it “moon”
But sometimes it’s a pale pink pearl
And gold in months of harvest, too

The sunsets made of rubies red
The Jeweler pours on molten gold
And hangs out clouds of amethysts
As He has done for years untold

When rain falls in the sun’s warm light
I think it’s really diamond stones
They tumble down from up above
From that vast trove the Jeweler owns

And flakes of icy crystal fall
In winter months (we call it snow)
From selfsame clouds whence silver wire
Twists down to strike the ground below

If you lived out on sprawling plains
‘Midst amber waves, the way I do,
You wouldn’t doubt that sapphire is
The stuff that makes the skies so blue

The heavens shine so brightly there
The Jeweler truly knows his art
The emerald streaks in rainbow curves
Are gifts from Him to charm our hearts

~ © Andrea Grace

Tin Soldiers

Tin soldiers stand up ramrod straight
And march in perfect rows
Across the patterned
Quilted squares
Toward their wooden foes

The little general, five years old,
Shouts out their strategy
The soldiers in
His pudgy hands
Defeat their enemy

Tin soldiers with their bayonets
Won’t march at all today
Except the one
The general took
To school, so he could play.

Tin soldiers march through six more years
Across the nursery floor
The general doesn’t
Play with them
As often as before

But still sometimes, he takes them down
(How militant they look!)
And sets them up
Like armies in
His favorite history book

Tin soldiers watch their general tie
The laces on his shoes
Sixteen today
He frowns a bit
And reads the morning news

Tin soldiers stand upon the shelf
And stare across the room
Where once they marched
And victories won
Now empty as a tomb

The general’s face they see again
A photo on the wall
So many medals
On his chest!
A handsome man, and tall

Tin soldiers live for thirty years
Inside a chest of pine
Their bayonets
Are duller now
Their faces lost their shine

Until the day the general comes
And gives a happy shout
As he kneels down
Beside the chest
And lifts his soldiers out

And one more time, he’s five years old
The soldiers march once more
The general gives
A fine salute
And sits down on the floor

~ © Andrea Grace

Train to the City

Boarded a train— left the prairie behind
Heard the wheels rumble over the train track
And I looked out the window at hills flashing by
And I vowed that I never would go back.

The city was busy. The cab drivers shouted
The sights and the sounds filled my mind
Beneath the skyscrapers, in all the confusion,
I forgot what I had left behind.

'Midst smells of the hot dogs and cigarette smoke
And the gum on the sidewalk below,
I wandered around, thinking what I should do
And where would I most like to go.

A museum of paintings was open that day,
So I bought me a pass and looked ‘round.
I saw the whole place, from the top to the bottom
From ceiling right down to the ground.

And it’s strange to report, but a thing that I found out
As through that museum I did roam:
Amongst all those paintings the ones I liked best
Were the ones that remind me of home.

Boarded a train— bade the city farewell
But told it one day I’d stop by.
And my heart sang a song as the train sped along
Toward my home ‘neath the wide prairie sky.

~ © Andrea Grace

Drawings on the Sidewalk

A cloudy day, and gloomy out
But I could see the sun
A little girl
With yellow chalk
Had drawn a smiling one

Her hand was painted rainbow hues
As she held tight the chalk
She drew her world
So brightly there
Upon the grey sidewalk

A princess in her tower room
With hair as dark as night
A dragon green
And breathing flame
Prince Charming there to fight

A river wound through all that land
And birds flew very high
The fluffy clouds
Hung lazily
Suspended in the sky

The little artist sitting there
And painting where I’d walk
The only tools
That she would use
Her box of colored chalk

I don’t know why I stayed right there
And watched that little girl
As flowers grew
Beneath her hands
Inside her little world

A drop of water fell on me
And on the smiling sun
And that small girl
Picked up her chalk
And she began to run

She disappeared inside her house
And left me standing there
A tear rolled down
The dragon’s cheek
And blurred the princess’ hair

The colors ran together
As the rain washed them away
And I just watched
The sidewalk turn
From rainbows back to grey


~ © Andrea Grace

Vigil

Twilight on a lonely pier
The silent skies of grey
A single gull
Stands motionless
And looks across the bay

Last night, as well the night before,
He kept her company
A little girl
Who waited there
And stared out to the sea

Expressionless and waiting
For a ship that never came
So many others
Landed there
But none was quite the same

So many nights spent silently
No sigh escaped her lips
She never spoke
A single word
But gazed upon the ships

Tonight the gull is all alone
For she will come no more
The memory of
Her silent watch
A ghost upon the shore

The seagull spreads his black-tipped wings
And soars into the sky
And disappears
Into the grey
A final mournful cry


~ © Andrea Grace

Lot's Wife

Run, my dear! Keep running!

Don’t stop to think or breathe!

Don’t wonder what it looks like, dear.

I know you want to see,

But squelch your curiosity!

We’re running for our lives!

And I tell you most emphatically

That looking is not wise!

Your home is burning up back there

A hail of fiery rain

Reduces it to just a pile

Of rubble on the plain.

My dear, I know your sister’s there

Your friends and all their wives

I’m sorry, love, but we’ve no choice.

We cannot save their lives.

I know you want to help them

I know you want to turn

I know it breaks your heart to hear

Your hometown-city burn.

Keep running now, and don’t look back

There’s nothing we can do

We tried our best to save our friends.

I know it hurts for you,

But they have made their choices, and

For them it’s far too late

We’ll look out for ourselves this time

And leave them to their fate.

I know it seems so cruel, my dear,

To leave our friends to die
It breaks my heart to flee like this,

To hear their children cry

But I hope you can see one day

We had no other choice

We heard the Lord tell us to run

And had to heed His voice.

You want to race back there and help,

But you’d just perish too!

So run with me, my own dear wife,

It’s all that we can do.

We can’t save everyone in life.

Most times it’s best to try

But sometimes, dear, the cause is lost!

And why, then, would you die?

So keep on running, darling!

And please, oh please, don’t turn!

Please, you do not have to watch

Our friends and city burn!

We cannot help, and that is that.

Aren’t we worth saving, too?

And we’re saving our two daughters!

That’s what we have to do.

But, oh, my wife! I cannot hear

Your footsteps on the ground!

What happened? Are you running still?

…Or did you turn around?

Oh, tell me that it isn’t so!

You didn’t turn or halt!

Oh, curse the day! My wife is now

A pillar made of salt!

Turned back to help her family

Or maybe just to see.

Run on, my girls. Your mother’s gone.

It’s now just you and me.

~ © Andrea Grace

     When the morning dawned, the angels urged Lot to hurry, saying, "Arise! Take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be consumed in the punishment of the city!"

     And while he lingered, the men took hold of his hand, his wife's hand, and the hands of his two daughters, the Lord being merciful to him, and they brought him out and set him outside the city. So it came to pass, when they had brought them outside that he said,

     "Escape for your life! Do not look behind you nor stay anywhere on the plain. Escape to the mountains, lest you be destroyed!"

     ... But his wife looked back behind them, and she became a pillar of salt.

      ~ Genesis 19: 15-17, 19

Coyotesong

A motley band of brothers are we
A scraggly, raggedy crew.
And we gather tonight
In the silver moonlight
Just to sing out our anthem to you!

The owls and mice are our audience
For conductor, we look to the breeze
The grass and the sage
Are our deserty stage
And for harmony we have the bees.

A song without words to write down here
A melody without a tune
And we lift up our cry
To the black velvet sky
As we sing out our hearts to the moon.

We’ve sung since those times long forgotten
And we’ll sing ’til forever has gone
This music unchanged,
And yet never the same
From sunset right up until dawn. 

So just shut your eyes tight and listen
Just breathe in and don’t say a word
Remember our song
And we’ll sing it as long
As we know that somebody has heard.

~ © Andrea Grace

In the Middle of December

Summer breezes in December carry scents of candy canes
For a moment there you wonder if it isn’t rather strange.
Lovely weather in the middle of what should be winter’s chill
Only here in Colorado have we summer breezes still!
Just a week ago the wind, it was completely different here
The frigid Arctic blasts that we should have this time of year
And I donned my fluffy socks, and much hot chocolate did I drink
And I looked outside the window, many gloomy thoughts to think.
I guess I’d just forgotten that the spring must come again
Guess I didn’t quite remember there’s an end to winter’s reign.
And the middle of December (who’d have thought it? who’d have known?)
Has conspired just to show me it’s got beauty of its own
So I won’t lose hope for springtime, and I won’t wish winter gone
Just remember to enjoy it as the year goes marching on
Summer breezes in December and the promises they make
Dancing winds that tell of springtime and the season Earth awakes
Fragrant zephyrs bringing sunshine and no hint of winter’s chillOnly here in Colorado have we summer breezes still!

~ © Andrea Grace

My Grandmother's Flowers

My grandmother’s flowers grow lush in her garden
And smile at me every time that I come
The big fluffy zinnias and small cheerful pansies.
Wave and they nod ‘neath the bright summer sun.


My grandmother’s hands touch her flowers so gently
She waters and digs and is busy all day
The flowers just love her, and she loves the flowers
She makes them so cute in her own special way.


My grandmother’s eyes gaze out over her flowers
And rest for a moment on blossoms of blue
The flowers she looks at are my special favorites
‘Cause my grandmother’s eyes are the very same hue.


My grandmother’s flowers are happy to see us
And Grandma’s big smile is wide, bright, and sunny
She’s clever and witty and makes me to giggle
Because my grandmother’s so terribly funny!


My grandmother’s flowers are strong just like she is
Every summer they’re taller; they smell sweeter, too.
My grandmother’s flowers get better and better
Their bright, vibrant colors quite spruce up the view.


My grandmother’s flowers won’t blossom forever
One summer I’ll come and they will not be there
The yard will be mournful and lonely and quiet
The garden not lively, but somber and bare.


My grandmother’s flowers, their faces will vanish
No more her soft hands the smooth petals caress
Her laughter, the ghost of a much-lovéd lady
Will linger and stay in the places she blessed.


I so love my grandma. The times that I see her
Are fleeting and fading; they’ll someday be spent
So I’ll be a good girl and help Grandma to garden
And always remember her flowers’ sweet scent.


My grandmother’s flowers are charming and lovely
Their faces and smells I will always remember
And even though she and her flowers will leave me
It’s only a while ‘fore we’re back together.


My grandmother’s flowers I know will go with her
When she leaves me to go to the Garden above
And her flowers will make Heaven smell all the better
When my grandmother rests in the LORD’s awesome love.


~ © Andrea Grace

Travelin'

I been walkin’ down this road
For eighty years or more
My shoes wore out long time ago
And boy, my feet is sore!

Just steppin’ steppin’ steppin’
For at least ten thousand miles
And it ain’t been no picnic!
Though I had my share o’ smiles.

This road I gotta travel,
Boy, I tell you somethin’ strange:
It seems you know what’s there ahead
And just like that comes change!

You’re walkin’ through some valley
Sure, it looks like Easy Street!
But boy, you pay attention,
‘Cause it sure won’t stay that sweet.

A mountain’s comin’ up ahead
And pretty soon you’ll see
You gotta climb up real, real high
Sure, this I guarantee!

Them mountains, it’s a funny thing
They take you by surprise
And when you see ‘em loomin’ there
You won’t believe your eyes!

You won’t think you can climb so far
Can’t even see the top
But, boy, you best start climbin’,
‘Cause you ain’t allowed to stop.

Won’t be easy, I tell you, boy.
Takes blood, sweat, and tears
And sometimes you are climbin’ up
For years and years and years.

You gon’ cry, I tell you that.
You’ll be exhausted, too.
It’s painful and it’s difficult
Takes strength right outta you.

But you know somethin’ that I’ve found?
Them mountains ain’t so bad
Every mountain’s got an end
And boy, that makes you glad!

‘Cause when you finally reach the top
Them climbin’ days is gone
You feel… ecstatic’s the only word!
(And you might burst into song!)

But you know, it still ain’t over
The road ain’t stoppin’ here
And if you wanna reach the end,
Boy, that’ll take you years!

So rest yourself a while
Then you keep on steppin’ on
And you know somethin that you’ll find?
That climbin’ made you strong!

But there ain’t no more climbin’
For at least a while yet
‘Cause now the road gets twisty
And it might get dark and wet

And now it gets confusin’
‘Cause it’s darker than the night
And on top o’ that you wonder
If you should turn left or right

The road splits off a lot here
And you don’t know where to go
And so you find that by this time
You’re goin’ pretty slow

But boy, you just be careful
That you know which turn to take
You might find that at this time
It’s best to just go straight

And keep your eye out, boy, I say
Keep lookin’ at your goal!
‘Cause if you don’t, I tell you this:
You gon’ fall down a hole.

Boy, you fall down one them holes
You best get yourself out!
If you can’t do it by yourself
Then fill your lungs and shout!

Call for help to anyone
Who’s passin’ by your way
If they’re on your same highway
Then they won’t just walk away.

They’ll help you out and dust you off
And shake your hand and then
You don’t know if they’ll go or stay
Until you reach the end.

And when you finally see a light
You’re outta that dark place
An’ the goin’ ain’t so difficult;
You best pick up your pace.

The hard times might be over,
But you got a ways to go
Before you reach your journey’s end
So don’t you walk too slow.

And just because it’s easy now
Don’t raise your hopes too high
You never know what’s round the bend
Them turns deceive the eye!

You’ll step on rocks as well, you know.
And thorns and prickles too.
Your feet get bruised and bloodied up,
But boy, it’s good for you.

It hurts a lot to walk this road
But there’s much more than pain!
Boy, I tell you somethin’ grand
About this long, hard lane:

Sometimes you’ll see such lovely things
Hear songs so pure and sweet
It makes you want to skip and dance
Despite your aching feet!

‘Cause boy, I tell you somethin’ now:
Ain’t nothin’ you can dream
Can be as great or beautiful
As things that you will see!

And as you walk that great long road
You’ll seldom be alone
I guarantee there’s someone
Who’ll make it feel like home.

You’ll meet some other travelers
And they’ll walk with you a ways
But most will split off pretty soon,
Though some of ‘em will stay.

Your friends may take a different road
Perhaps their thoroughfare
Is shorter than the one you’re on.
You’ll miss ‘em walkin’ there.

Can’t always have folks by your side
Enjoy it while it lasts!
Because the days you walk with ‘em
Will shoot by far too fast.

Yep. Steppin’, steppin’ steppin’.
It won’t be no piece o’ cake.
But you ain’t got a choice here, boy.
That’s the road you gotta take.

You best remember what I say
‘Cause boy, when it gets hard
You best be smart and watch your step
And boy, keep up your guard!

And don’t forget the lovely parts!
And don’t you walk too slow.
And most of all, remember
Where it is you want to go.

So boy, although it’s tough at times
You can’t see ‘round the bend,
Don’t you forget one minute
That you always got a Friend!

And He is with you always
And He’ll never leave your side
And He’ll be your strong Protector,
Your Provider and your Guide!

So boy, I’ll keep on steppin’
And you keep on steppin’ too.
I tell you what; you reach the end
And I’ll meet up with you.

~ © Andrea Grace

Smoke On The Wind

A fire once burned here; the smell is still lingering
It left naught but cinders and ashes of grey
The smoke curls up skyward and fades into nothing
Like memories I had of those long-ago days



Like smoke on the wind are the friends that I had once
Their memory is dimming, I don’t know their names
The words that they told me I barely recall now
The laughter we shared once is mostly the same


I thought it would last, though. I thought we would stay
Best buddies forever. I guess that’s not so.
Like smoke on the wind, like a ghost in the hallway
I thought it was friendship, but I didn’t know.


Like smoke on the wind, the harder you grasp it
The faster it slips through your fingers and fades
When you open your hands, there is nothing to see there
Was it even real in the very first place?


Like smoke on the wind are the friendships I had once
Or thought that I had; for perhaps they were dreams
The people existed. I know that for certain;
But if they were friends still remains to be seen


Like smoke on the wind, maybe real, maybe not
For awhile you see, but it soon disappears
A small puff of air dissolves those grey tendrils
The same way we friends couldn’t last through the years


 Perhaps it was time, or perhaps it was distance
Perhaps ‘twas the differing paths that we chose
Whatever it is, I can scarcely remember
The days we had once. Guess that’s just how it goes.


Only smoke on the wind… it looks real for a moment
But once it is gone, then you can comprehend
It never had substance or any real meaning
And maybe ‘twas good that it came to an end


Smoke on the wind, never real, never there
You think that it was, but you can’t really tell
And you watch it drift upward, are sure it’s a real thing
But maybe it just has you under its spell


Smoke on the wind, it sure muddles your head
You can’t quite think straight, cannot see through the mist
One blink and it’s gone, leaving you there, bewildered
Was it just a dream? Did it really exist?


Smoke on the wind isn’t real; you can’t feel it
Just an illusion, a beautiful sight
A memory of nothing, a moment of pleasure
But you know in the end just a passing delight


Smoke on the wind can’t torment me; it won’t.
Sometimes I admit that I want it to stay
But smoke cannot help me, won’t be what I’m needing
I guess I must just let the smoke drift away.


Just smoke on the wind, all those friendships now vanished
I thought that I knew them, but maybe I’m wrong
Smoke on the wind, only smoke in the ending
Smoke that was here but next moment was gone.


~ © Andrea Grace

The Man Who Could Not See

How do you tell of color
To a man whose eyes lack sight?
How can you tell of sunrise
If he cannot see the light?

How can you play him music
If he cannot hear the words?
How can he smile and sing along
If he has never heard?
If you let him have a Hershey’s bar
You know it’d go to waste—
He wouldn’t care for chocolate
If the fellow could not taste.
Why would he touch a rabbit’s fur
If he has never felt?
Does he know of cookies baking 
If the man has never smelt?
But even if he knew the world,
If he could see and hear:
If he could feel and smell and taste
And lived a hundred years,
If he heard every pretty tune
And saw all gorgeous things
He never could know happiness If he knew not the King.
~ © Andrea Grace

Butterflies and Moths

 A photogenic butterfly who very obligingly sat still on a rock and presented me with this charming view of itself in all its glory.

This is just some moth we found on our front door. It's really tiny, but I thought it was pretty.