Old Poetry, Pt Trois

NEVER MORE

In a cage,
  My heart restlessly paces,
  trying to escape.
  It screams, it cries, it pleads,
  It makes promises it cannot keep.

    I turn a deaf ear,
    ignoring its implorings,
    for the last time I surrendered,
      it paid a terrible price
      and the wallet now lies empty.

©2013, Trina High

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WHICH WAY?

In the forest of my mind,

 A strong oak stands 

  on one path,

   its branches braided together

   in a massive crowning glory.
 There also stands,

  on another path,
   A weeping willow,
   bent over, as if under
   a great weight.
Here stand I,
 at the fork in the road;
  which way shall I proceed?

©2013, Trina High

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SYMPHONIC FOREST

Quietly you walk through the forest of my love, 
    Tapping into the songs of my heart
      wrapped in the tendrils rooting deep into the soft earth,
      releasing a melody of adoration, 

      fertilizing the soil with a chorus done in
        fortissimo

©2013, Trina High