By: Katrenia M. Busch

In loving memory

When someone’s life
Is taken too soon
Leaving much strife
Leaving—open wounds

It’s hard to find
The right words to express
To often describe
What’s here—when you left

Leaving this world
By far—too soon to go
As I’m left behind,
Filled with grief and sorrow

Left behind,
Still praying— your okay
Unable to fully conceive
That you have gone away

As I say whole-heartedly
With every ounce I possess
That I cherish you in memory
As it’s hard for me to express

How much I love you
Eternally—bound
That if you ever knew
What it is that I found

That from the day we met
To the day you died
That my love for you has yet—
Began to diminish or subside

###

The Archer

Time—standing still
Confined and held
Hostage to his will
Wherever, his arrows dwell

Immovable, fixed
Unable to flee
Bound to be mixed
To that skill of archery

Arrows of time, often held there
With that bow of reason to enjoy
Holding time itself back—where
His archery skills would be employed

With time at rest
He often sought peace
Being—blessed
That time would cease

Timeless, archer—skilled
Indeed—
Often—filled,
And did succeed

Far-shooting, timeless—sure
Hasting toward the end
Of time itself- as he lured
Each to moment he did bend

###

“An Incomplete Song”

Thou art thy greatest feeling
Thou art thy greatest treasure
Thou art thy greatest yearning
Thou art thy greatest pleasure

Thou art thy souls desire
Thou art thy souls craving
Thou art thy souls admirer
Thou art thy souls longing

A song without an artist
A song without a theme
A song that goes unnoticed
A song with no one to sing

A sky without clouds above
A sky with no sun to shine
A sky never ending as thy love
A sky I can’t hold, as thou aren’t mine

A song with an unfinished end
A storm with no rainbow after its gone
A book with blank pages within
A clock that ticks along

A king without a queen
A crown without a head
Beauty that goes unseen
A body alive, a soul that’s dead

Time, if I must wait instead
Please keep thoughts of me in his head
This request I ask, as I make it today
Please don’t let him forget me, please don’t let me fade away

Time, I wish you would hurry along
As my soul keeps crying an unheard song

###

Katrenia Busch from Bay City, MI is a published poet and mother of two. Her work can be found in the screech owl, literature today, Riverrun, Literary Yard and Super poetry-highway. She has also published essays on psychoanalysis and spends time as a “peer reviewer” for journals concerning psychological studies and research. She has an established background in healthcare and law enforcement and has contributed articles on leadership and the healthcare system for senior care quest.