Paint-stained
You do not notice
My frail paint-stained hands
You need to know this,
I do all I can
To paint your best portrait
With my brightest reds
To create your bold picture
With the colors I bled.
Every day I wake
Just to create
Lines, curves and shapes
Until my hands ache
It’ll never be done
Or enough for you
I’m here left with one
Instead of us two
Yet I cannot leave.
Turn the other cheek.
All I can be
Is strong when I’m weak
And shade to your snow
To keep you from melting.
The flowers we grow
Are already wilting
To keep you from tears
I go to sleep crying
I stay here for years
I’ve got good at lying
A little more paint
Has covered my hands
Now it is too late
To find me again
My very own skin
Concealed beneath you
I had let you in
My gold has turned blue
Our strokes are sent now
In different directions
I still wonder how
To gain your attention.
The ugliest hues
Mixing and dry
Still looking for you
I fall from the sky
Expensive supplies
The canvas of white
Do not catch your eyes
For I am chastised
I saw
I saw you whisper
I saw her smile
Said “she’s like a sister”
That lie ran for miles
I noticed your hands shake
As they brush her ear
Red eyed and wide awake
Pretend I don’t hear
Now neighbors are talking
They ask about you
“I saw them out walking”
“Oh dear, you look blue”
I shake off the feeling
The way you did, me
My world without meaning,
I walk to the sea
I wish I could jump in
Erase what you’ve done
Rewind time to back when
I was your sole one.
Nocturnal (A Haiku)
Midnight, be my bride
Caress me, please help me breathe
Moon, don’t leave my side
Breeze Of Spring (A Sonnet)
The breeze of spring, you visit me again
I yearn to hear your oath; don’t leave me here
Oh breeze of spring, tell, when will you descend?
Take me above where my vision is clear
I’ve lost my prized possessions long ago
I gambled all to gain nothing but time
Forever now my skin’s confined in snow
Punished to trek and pay for all my crime
Oh breeze of spring, you urge me to let go
Ashamed no more as I look at the sky
Just like the lake below I travel slow
Guilt abandons me; finally I cry
The wind reports its safe to travel now
My gratitude spring breeze, you’ve taught me how
Ode to Books, Stories and Words
Pages forever stained, coffee and ink.
Tainted with amorous wonder
Air filled with petrichor
Earl gray in the kettle.
Flames in the fireplace;
Outside there are storms, inside there are stories.
A galaxy you can travel to, though you don’t move an inch.
Logophile.
Ensconce oneself in the comfort of a cover.
Something visceral
Dreams painted across paper
Lives that never end
Immortals.
When everything must end
Stories do not.
Life is found even in death
Legacies are shared even through scandal
You cannot erase what’s written
In stone, or on page
Immersive.
Enemies ostracized, villages saved.
Lovers reunited, children found.
Cheaters vilified, heroes adored.
This, so surreal. Real, but not reality.
Laconic.
Vivacious in expression, pretentious in appearance.
Even when worlds are incongruous, they find a way to collide.
Even when words are ephemeral, they find a way to persevere.
Sune Hamilton is a songwriter, singer and poet currently studying English at the University of Georgia. As the daughter to an author, preacher and literature teacher, Sune had grown up appreciating the gift of words. She explored her fascination with storytelling through songwriting, which she began around the age of 14. Since then, Sune has written over 130 songs and has delved into poetry and short story writing as well. She finds inspiration in the novels she reads, in the nature of the world around her, and in her personal life as well. Sune plans to continue pushing her own boundaries when it comes to her artistic creations.