Two Poems by Ann Christine Tabaka
Dying Embers
We don’t make love any more, nor greet each other at the door. Years laid rusty, corroded dreams. Age deals romance a mortal blow. Time can be so cruel, draining life from lives. A thief that robs passion, erasing it from the slate. Whispered words of love, now left at the doorway of an empty room. While a cold bed cries out to lonely blankets on the floor. No more looks of ardor, nor soft engaging smiles. Gifts of flowers long decayed, only memories prevail. Anguish-bit lips fight back tears. Flames of the heart extinguished, leaving only lukewarm ashes choking for oxygen, as glowing embers die. |
She Tucks Away Her Charms
Worry, is what she does, as she tucks away her charms. There is no time left between her and the sky. They have become one and the same. Always asking for more, she slips away. You search, but will not find her. The tempo has grown too slow. Her heart beat echoes among the lost. She plays with her trinkets, then sets them aside. You have lost her forever. Yet, she is always right there. The mind plays tricks on the heart. Love is just an illusion. One step at a time, we fall deeper into the chasm of our own desire. Then suddenly, at some final outcome, we lay all our cards on the table, and slowly walk away. The worry still there, she takes out her charms once more. |
Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review,The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.