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