Two Poems by Pamela Tyree Griffin

Blind Date

Stood in the rain and I debated
to stay, to go and so I waited,
'til the day became the night
and I realized with certain fright,
that you would not come.

I gripped my hands and I stifled
thoughts that with my heart you'd trifled;
that I the calm, the undemanding
would be left in the rain standing
and you would not come.

My hair became a matted mess
and glued to me became my dress.
Powerless was I to move my feet
as water spat out from the street.
But you did not come.

Afternoon and school children passed
and when heaving, I'd seen the last,
I knew then but could not mention
the cruelty of your intention--
that you would not come.

Now the city has gone to sleep
and my own company I keep.
But I will stay and man my post,
sleeping in a box at most.
Maybe then you'll come.

Then you'll come.

You'll come.

Please COME

For Your New Home

May this always be a place of peace
and each room a calming refuge. 

May this always be a place of happiness
and each room a joyous respite.

May this always be a place of love
and each room happy heart.

May this always be a place of rest
and each room a gentle welcome.

And may this always be a place of dreams
and each room the coming true.