JUST FOR THEM

There are two people
I’d really like to show
Just how much I love them,
Even though they know.

They've been there in my troubled times,
Forever by my side,
Putting all their trust in me
Even though I've lied.

No matter what the problem was
They were always there,
And though they might not always agree,
They were always fair.

One of the people is my Mom,
The other one is my Dad,
They've been there through all I've done
No matter good or bad.

To tell them that I love them
Doesn't seem enough,
Because of all I've done,
They've had it kind of rough.

I know right and I know wrong,
I owe it all to them,
Because of how they raised me
I'm the person that I am.

If I were rich I'd buy for them
The things they've never had,
I'd buy the world of luxuries,
Just for my Mom and Dad.

But no money can buy the things
My parents have given to me,
I’m proud of them and who I am
And how they've taught me to be.

And so I sit and think, and think and write,
To find the perfect way,
To tell them that I love them
Each and every day.

So here’s my poem I dedicate
To the greatest people I know,
This is for you, Mom and Dad
To say I Love You so.

HILLSIDE DREAM

Flowers on a hillside,
Small trickling stream;
This is where my journey lies,
In among my dreams.

Soft swaying tree,
With swing hung tight,
Everything in its place
Everything is right.

Lone dog howls;
Cool, bright, sunshine;
This is how it all would be
If everything were mine.

CIRCLES

I’m just a weary wanderer
Looking for my mind,
Round in circles endlessly
Talking to mankind.

As I traveled
On my way,
I met a man
Who had nothing to say.

The more he talked
The less he said,
Running circles
Round my head.

So I left
Searching again,
And met a man
Who had never been.

He’d never lived
He had never died,
He never laughed
He’d never cried.

And so I left
What wasn’t there,
And met a man
Who didn’t care.

Nothing mattered
No decisions to make,
His lack of concern
I could not take.

I had to leave
Had to move along,
And saw a man
Who was never wrong.

He stood on a pedestal
And talked all day,
To all those people
Who had nothing to say.

The more I’ve searched
The less I’ve found,
And all those circles
Keep spinning round.

Being Depressed

Assignment done for Business Machines class in High School, circa 1972.

HAUNTING EYES

Behold the eyes that cast mental shadows in the pit of darkness. They look into you but show no expression of what they see. The image of doom you feel follow you everywhere, as do the empty mystery cast from the depth of the eyes. You can find no escape, no place to hide, for you know not what it is you fear. And yet you know, that, even in death the eyes will follow you. Fear surrounds you and blinds you by its darkness. Those eyes, those tormenting eyes! You can't find any reasoning in them, no understanding spark coming from them. The fear grows unbearable, the heart grows weak, finally death comes. But in death the eyes still linger on eternally. Where do they come from? What do they want? Think, think hard, maybe there is an answer deep in the empty black pits of those eyes. Maybe they aren’t so empty.

OH MY GOD!

What have I done? those eyes....They were my own!

Introduction - A Note From the Author

(This is the Introduction from my poetry book. I will be posting my poems randomly as opposed to how I arranged them in my book.)

I believe that my “love affair” with words has been going on since I first began to talk, I think the notes from my teachers on my early report cards will attest to this, “Leann is a good student, but she talks to much.” In the 2nd grade my teacher, Mrs. Meister, found that she could keep me quiet so everyone else could finish their work by having me write short stories. She would tell me how very nice my stories were and that someday I might have one of my books in that very school library. Years later I read one of those stories that managed to survive time, it was terrible, but I guess it was good for a 2nd grader. Then in the 4th grade, I think it was, I had an assignment to write a poem for English. My poem received an A+ and it was placed on display in the main hallway with a few chosen others. This poem was “Hillside Dream”. From that point on I found pleasure in writing poetry. Most of my poems were written during my teenage years, but a few were written later. I have not composed a poem in many years now.
I have placed the more upbeat poetry towards the front and the sillier and more depressing ones towards the back. The artwork throughout the book are things that I have done and hung onto for some reason. Some of my favorite pieces have been lost or misplaced though.
Everyone seems to read something a little bit different into works of art, that also includes poetry. So read what you will into these, choose to like or dislike according to your own tastes. No offense was meant towards anyone, they were merely written to express a thought or feeling at the time that I wrote them. Have fun and I hope you enjoy some of them at least.

Leann (Heinrichs) Strobel
1/21/95