I swing like a kid
and fall like an adult;
cry tears of gratitude
and pray in smiles;
hug and love, and later
hide under the covers—
wildly and humbly living
from dawn to the stars,
and ever back again
—Terri Guillemets
poems
Plexus
we feel poetry and art
in the sensitive veins
that run through soul and
carry not blood but spirit
—Terri Guillemets
Humble warrior
Success is a shell — don’t let it harden around your ego.
Failure is a shell — don’t let it harden around your determination.
—Terri Guillemets
Nineteen eighty-seven
Been collecting quotes
since nineteen eighty-seven,
Be collecting them ’til
the day I go to Heaven.
And if by chance
it’s to the contrary,
Here’s hoping Hell
has a great library!
—Terri Guillemets
P.S. I had this on the “about me” page of The Quote Garden until I was going through the memory box my mom made for me and came across the essay I wrote in school about The Scarlet Letter, which was the book that really got me seriously hooked on collecting quotations. And this essay was dated October 1986. I had only taken a best guess about the 1987 date. So now with dated proof, I had to ‘eighty-six’ this silly little autobio poem. But I’m keeping it anyway as a scrapbook memory for myself. I’ve yet to attempt a rewrite rhyming the proper year, although ‘Styx’ has great literary potential.
Agony of anxious
Fear —
not running-from-bear
but running-from-life
Courage —
not getting-up-the-nerve
but getting-up-every-day
—Terri Guillemets
@Risk
Life is like running with scissors
naked through freezing blizzards…
—Terri Guillemets
Petals & leaves
i love to
smell the flowers
and sniff the books
sitting in gardens
and library nooks
—Terri Guillemets
Campfire
campfire flames kiss the night
stars in distant skies blaze bright
ghost story whispers all affright
rustling sounds just out of sight
—Terri Guillemets
Excite
Lightning dances —
Thunder applauds her!
—Terri Guillemets
Close quarters & distant dreams
in good times and in bad
’til death do us part
isn’t just for marriage —
but family too — lifelong vows
coursing through our blood
—Terri Guillemets
Cracked
her head was cracked —
not tragically, just poetically
it’s how the poems got in —
and out
—Terri Guillemets
Inkdreaming
the smell of ink is
intoxicating to me —
others may have wine
but I have poetry
—Terri Guillemets